Chapter 3

CALYX'S POV 

The cold air feels like it's biting me. I gasp as my back hits the hard stone altar. The rough surface scratches my bare arms. Chains rattle and cold metal digs into my wrists, holding me captive. I pull on them, but they won't budge. The weight of the chains makes me feel sick with fear. I am trapped.

The air is thick with the smell of burning herbs, a strong and earthy scent that makes my throat feel blocked. Torches line the walls of the cave, their flames flickering and casting spooky shadows that look like they're moving. I feel a chill, but it isn't because of the cold - it's because of the man standing in front of me. Iskander.

He stands over me, his sharp face hard to read, his golden eyes shining bright in the dim light. He wears dark robes with fancy stitching that shows off his kingdom's symbols. He stands tall, like a man who owns everything. And right now, that includes me. "You're mine now," he says, his voice low and firm. I grit my teeth. "No way."

His lips curl up in a mix of amusement and warning. He reaches into his robe and pulls out a blade that catches the firelight. I catch my breath as he shows me a ritual dagger - its curved edge is very sharp, and its silver surface has old symbols etched into it that glow eerily. As soon as I see it, my body reacts before I can think. I struggle against the chains, breathing in rough gasps. The chains dig into my wrists, burning me as if they have magic in them.

"Don't bother trying to escape," Iskander says quietly, taking a step closer. "You can't." His voice is too calm for someone about to do something terrible. My heart is racing in my chest as he raises the blade. It hangs in the air between us, the symbols on it glowing brighter and faster, matching the frantic beat of my heart. "What are you doing?" I ask, my voice rough but full of anger.

Iskander looks at me, his face firm. "I'm sealing your fate." Before I could do anything, he turns the blade on himself. He quickly and deliberately cut his palm with the sharp edge. 

I jump back. Blood came out right away, dark and thick, dripping down his fingers. My stomach turned.

The smell of his blood hits me like a punch to the gut, thick and metallic, mixing with the burning herbs. But before I can even process the horror of what he's done, he reaches out - his bleeding hand hovering over my bare arm. 

"No," I gasp, trying to jerk away. It's useless. The first drop of blood hits my skin. Pain explodes through me. I scream.

It feels like fire, like liquid pain spreading into my bones. The blood doesn't just touch my skin - it sinks in, moving through my veins like hot sparks. Something locks inside my soul, something I can feel but not see, sinking deep into my core. 

I struggle against the chains, my body lifting off the altar, but the magic holds me down. My vision gets blurry, my ears ringing with a loud hum that vibrates in my head. 

Every part of my body fights against it, but the blood - his blood - is stronger. It takes control of me.

He's branded me. Bound me. Iskander watches silently as I twist and turn under the force of the magic. His bleeding hand hovers just above me, blood still dripping, sealing our bond with every red drop. 

It feels like it's going on forever. I'm burning, my body is being changed into something I don't understand. But finally, the pain starts to fade, leaving behind something even worse - a deep, unnatural calmness.

Unable to control the sensation anymore, I suddenly slump, my body crumpling against the gloomy looking altar. 

I part my lips, trying to draw in enough air into my lungs but at this point, it feels almost impossible. With each painful breath I take, my body trembles violently as the pain spreads across. 

A tear fell down my cheeks, what did I do to deserve this? Curse the day I went into that forest and had in mind to save that stranger, I should have listened to my gut, but I didn't. At this moment, it felt as though my heart is being pierced by a thousand arrows. 

Slowly, I close my eyes, my tears still falling freely, is this how I would end my life? Suffering at the hands of the devil? 

Just then, I suddenly feel something inside of me; something I've never felt before and it seems so strange and heavy. 

With my last strength, open my eyes, tilting my head towards Iskander and with the last bit of strength I have left, I manage to speak up. “What….what is happening?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper but I know he can hear me. “What the hell did you do to me?” I want to scream at the top of my lungs but unfortunately, my voice is as faint as the droplets of water on leaves. 

I watched as a smug smirk formed on the corner of his lips, my heart breaking into a million pieces as my enemy triumphed over my pain. 

He then stride towards a cloth, using it to wipe his bloody palm, he didn't give me a reply; not yet. 

Finally, after what feels like an eternity of moments, he speaks up. 

“You would bear my heir” he replies as though it's the most casual thing to say. “And your opinion is irrelevant” 

As he says those words, my eyes widen, my blood growing cold. What? 

The words echo in my mind, making their way through my thoughts which causes a splitting headache just thinking of it. What did he mean? That I would bear his heir? 

I grit my teeth with anger, the urge to curse and spit on his face growing within me but unfortunately, my body is too weak to make any movements.

The rage I feel within me bubbles, clouding my sense of thoughts. 

I take a deep breath, trying to gather my remnant of strength. 

“Fuck you!!” I curse at the top of my lungs and spat at him. 

The saliva landed just beside his lips but he didn't flinch, that smirk that never seemed to reach his emotionless eyes still dancing on his lips as though what I have done was amusing rather than insulting. 

“I would take my own life than for that to happen” I grit my teeth. 

He grinned, flashing me a deadly expression as he lean in close to me, wiping the saliva with the back of his palm. “I suggest you wouldn't, little lamb” 

His words sends shivers down my spine, they are threatening but I know it's more than that; he means every word he says. 

My lips tremble, I want to burst into tears once again. Staring into his face, anger grows within me. He is this close to me and I want to hurt him so bad, but unfortunately, I can't. 

A sudden feeling of exhaustion washes over me, I feel as though I'm being suffocated by an invisible force. I gasp, my whole body falling flat onto the altar, my head bobbing back and forth as though I have no control over it. 

What the hell is happening to me? It feels as though my vision is being clouded by a sudden darkness. 

Something is terribly wrong, I've never experienced something like this, what's going on? Is this how death feels like? Or something even more deadly than that? 

The bond is pulsing inside me, beating in time with my heart. I feel it spreading deeper, taking root in places I can't touch, can't remove. 

It's now a part of me. Panic is choking me, but it's overwhelmed by the magic pulling me down. My eyelids are getting heavy. The last thing I see is Iskander staring at me, his face impossible to read. 

The last thing I feel is the bond getting tighter, trapping me in a fate I can't get away from. 

Just as I'm about to give in to the darkness, I hear his voice. 

“Sleep well, little runt,” he murmurs, his breath ghosting over my skin like a curse. “You belong to me… until you take your last breath.” And then, darkness takes over.