Bound by ice, marked by fire

Blood dripped from Kaelith's mouth. Not fast—just one slow trail, curling along his jaw like a final, dying promise.

I pressed my palm to his chest. Cold.

Too cold.

I wasn't supposed to care.

But here I was, on my knees in a salt-soaked cave at the edge of the world, whispering into the half-breath of a dying Emberclaw prince.

The Moriban poison had settled into him like royalty—liquid gold threading his veins, bright and unforgiving.

"Wake up, Emberclaw."

My voice cracked.

He didn't move.

"I didn't drag your stubborn, arrogant body across half the continent just to have you die in a puddle."

Still—nothing.

Then a voice, sharp as sleet, echoed through the cavern:

"A life touched by House Moriba is rarely returned."

I spun, hand already on the hilt of my dagger.

A figure emerged from the shadows, cloaked in deep blue, eyes like winter ice. The sigil of House Azzuri shimmered on their chest.

"Princess Zetulah," the voice greeted—formal and cold—"you came to the right place. But the cure you seek?"

He stepped forward, lowering his hood.

Lord Serevan Azzuri. Ice Lord of the North. He looked exactly like I remembered—like a man carved from the same glacier his house was born under.

"It will cost you more than you are willing to give."

"I didn't come here to bargain," I said.

"You came to beg," he corrected. "There's a difference."

He was right. I hated that.

Kaelith groaned—a sound barely there, like wind beneath stone. I dropped beside him, cradling his face.

His skin was colder now, lips tinged blue.

He didn't have hours—maybe not even minutes.

"Name your price."

Serevan looked me over—calculated, slow.

"House Azzuri does not deal in coin, Princess."

His eyes drifted to Kaelith.

"We deal in oaths. And sacrifices."

I stood, fists clenched.

"Then take mine. I'll owe you a debt. Anything."

He tilted his head. That slow, dangerous smile spread across his face.

"No, Princess. Not your oath."

He stepped past me, knelt beside Kaelith, and pressed a hand to his chest. The air shimmered blue.

"His."

"What?" I snapped.

"You want him to live?" Serevan's voice was velvet and ice. "Then he must serve us. Body and soul."

"He's dying."

"And I can save him."

I stared at Kaelith. I thought of fire. Of battles. Of the night he dragged me out of the burning ruins—the same man who should've been my enemy, who now lay dying because he chose to save me.

"Do it," I said.

Serevan's hand flared bright blue. Kaelith arched. Air surged through him.

And the deal was struck.

I should have felt relief.

But all I felt was guilt.

He didn't choose this.

I did.

And when he woke, he'd hate me for it.

The sound of the cave faded into my pulse. I couldn't look away from him—from the way his chest now rose, slowly, with breath again; from the blue thread of magic that now tethered him to House Azzuri like a leash.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I didn't know any other way."

Serevan stood.

"You've done what few would, Princess. You made the cruelest choice—the one that saves a life but shatters a soul."

I looked at him.

"You think I'm proud of that?"

"I think you understand power. And its price."

His eyes flicked to Kaelith.

"And so will he."

"Prepare him," Serevan said to the guards. "He'll need binding. The poison will fight back."

"Wait—binding?"

They moved toward Kaelith with silver chains etched in runes.

I stepped in front of them. "What are you doing?"

"He is Azzuri property now," Serevan said smoothly. "And the poison will rage through him as it dies. You wouldn't want him ripping you apart, would you?"

I froze.

Because deep down, I knew he was right.

But it still felt like betrayal.

"You never said chains," I hissed.

"You never asked," Serevan replied.

"You manipulated me."

"I offered you a solution. You accepted. Don't confuse desperation with deception."

Kaelith coughed behind me. His eyes fluttered open.

For a second—just a second—he looked at me.

And in that second, I saw something break.

"Zetulah?"

"I'm here," I whispered, dropping to my knees.

His eyes were cloudy. Confused. "What… what did you do?"

I couldn't answer.

The chains clinked. His gaze moved. And when he saw them—

"No," he rasped. "Not them. Not Azzuri."

"You'll die without them," I said.

"Then let me die."

Tears burned hot in my eyes.

"I couldn't."

"You should've."

He looked at me like I'd betrayed him worse than any blade ever could.

Then the magic hit him.

His body jerked. A scream tore from his throat.

Blue light poured from his chest, his mouth, his eyes.

The chains glowed. The guards held him down.

And I watched the man I saved become something else.

Something bound.

Something broken.

Behind me, Serevan whispered:

"The war has begun. And he will be our weapon."