CHAPTER 2: A CURSED KING AND BRIDE'S DESIRE

The doors to the grand hall swung open with a groan, revealing an immense space that seemed to stretch into eternity. Evelynn stepped across the threshold, her breath catching at the sight before her. The hall was dimly lit by flickering candles in golden sconces, their flames casting dancing shadows against the high stone walls. Long, red velvet tapestries hung from the ceiling, adorned with images of dragons in flight—symbols of the curse that bound King Darius's bloodline.

Her heart pounded harder, the weight of the curse pressing on her chest like a physical force. She had heard the stories. He was no mere king. He was a dragon, both cursed and powerful, capable of turning the world to ashes with a single act of love. A love bound to destruction. A love that had already torn through the ages, leaving only the remnants of its ruin.

Her gaze drifted back to him. King Darius stood in the center of the room, his tall form cloaked in shadow, eyes glowing like smoldering embers. The cold air around him seemed to ripple, charged with the power he couldn't contain. His presence was intoxicating, a dangerous allure that tangled with the very essence of her being.

"You are here," his voice rumbled again, pulling her from her thoughts. It was rich, deep, like a low growl that seemed to vibrate in her chest, a sound that promised destruction and desire in equal measure.

Evelynn swallowed, trying to steady herself. "I'm here," she replied, her voice betraying none of the storm that was churning inside of her. Fear. Anger. Desire. The emotions coiled together like a serpent, waiting for the right moment to strike.

He tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing as he assessed her. "I see no fear in your eyes. I would have expected more trembling from a princess about to be wed to a cursed king."

"I'm no trembling fool," she shot back, meeting his gaze without flinching. "If I am to marry you, then I will do so with my eyes wide open."

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, but it was not one of kindness. It was dark, as if he were savoring the challenge she presented. His gaze swept over her slowly, making her skin crawl with a mixture of tension and something more—a raw, undeniable hunger that she could almost taste in the air.

"I admire your courage, Princess," he murmured, his voice smooth like silk, but there was something in his tone that made her skin prickle with awareness. "But it will not be enough to save you."

She raised an eyebrow, standing her ground. "Save me from what?"

He took a step toward her, his tall, imposing figure moving like a predator circling its prey. His eyes never left hers, and the intensity of his gaze made her breath hitch in her throat. "From the beast within me," he whispered, his lips brushing against her ear. The warmth of his breath sent a shock of heat straight to her core.

Evelynn forced herself not to react, but it was difficult. His presence was overwhelming, magnetic, drawing her in with a power that she both feared and craved. It wasn't just the curse that made him dangerous. It was the man behind it—the dragon king who had been alone for far too long, whose every move was calculated and deadly.

And now she was to be his bride.

She took a slow, steadying breath and met his eyes again. "If the curse is so strong, then why did you agree to marry me? Why not take another?"

The question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken implications. She had heard rumors that he had chosen her because of her bloodline, but no one truly knew what drove him. All she knew was that she had been sacrificed for the kingdom's peace—and that Darius had chosen her to save them all.

His lips parted slightly, a dark chuckle escaping them. "I did not choose you. The curse did." His fingers brushed lightly across her wrist again, and the sensation was like fire meeting ice—intense, scorching, yet forbidden.

She shivered, but her mind raced. "What does that mean?" she asked, trying to mask the confusion that twisted her insides.

He stepped back, finally releasing her wrist, but the air between them remained thick with tension. "It means that my blood has chosen you, Evelynn. And when you marry me, the curse will begin. The power I have kept at bay will awaken, and you will either break me or..." His gaze flickered to her lips before he trailed off, leaving the sentence unfinished.

Her pulse quickened as she looked up at him, trying to read his expression. What was he saying? That the moment she said her vows, everything would change? That the curse would ignite—and she would be the one to set it free?

She was no fool. She had to resist. She had to keep her heart locked away, away from the dangerous king who seemed determined to unravel her with each passing moment.

"I will not break," she finally said, her voice firmer than she felt. "I will survive you."

A smile tugged at the edges of his lips once more, but this time, it was colder—like the calm before a storm. He reached forward again, but this time, his touch was different. It wasn't the burning caress from earlier. It was a claiming touch—dominant and possessive.

"Ah, but you will break, Evelynn," he whispered, the words lingering in the air. "I will make you wish you had never set foot in my kingdom."

For a moment, the world seemed to stop. The air between them crackled, filled with the promise of passion, power, and something more. Dangerous, forbidden desire.

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against her ear as he spoke again, his voice dark and filled with intent. "You'll learn, my bride. That when you are bound to me, there is no escape."

Her breath caught, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she held her ground, eyes locking with his. She wasn't sure if she was afraid or aroused by the power of his words, but a deep part of her yearned for more.

Her heart pounded wildly in her chest, caught between fear and longing. The pull of the cursed king was undeniable, his power, his aura, the way he could make her feel so small and insignificant with a mere glance—it was magnetic, dangerous.

But Evelynn wasn't some helpless maiden waiting to be swept away. She was a princess. A sacrifice, yes, but a woman of strength. Her bloodline, too, had power. And though she feared what lay ahead, she would not bow. Not easily, at least.

She was his bride. But the question was—Would she submit to the curse... or fight to the bitter end?

To be continued…