A King’s Vow

The ride back to the Underworld was silent.

Evelyne sat rigidly atop her black stallion, her thoughts tangled like a storm she couldn't quiet. The weight of the god's words still pressed against her ribs.

A vessel. A key. A mortal chain.

She gritted her teeth. The pact was never about stopping a war. It was about her.

The truth felt like a betrayal carved into her bones.

Azrael rode beside her, his presence steady and unshaken. Unlike her, he seemed unaffected by what had just transpired. But she knew better.

His silence wasn't ignorance. It was calculation.

Finally, she couldn't take it anymore. "You knew, didn't you?"

Azrael didn't turn to her. "Knew what?"

Evelyne clenched her jaw. "That I was… part of something bigger. That this was never just about marriage."

Azrael's golden eyes flicked toward her, unreadable. "I suspected."

Her fingers tightened around the reins. "And you never thought to tell me?"