Hello Elena

Being with her makes everything quiet.

Especially Leka.

For the first time in twenty years, the voice in my head is nothing but a dull echo.

Not screaming.

Not clawing.

Just… distant.

Because of her.

Yesterday in the garden, when I stood close to her (soft body against mine, her scent flooding every corner of my mind), the silence was absolute.

No rage.

No darkness.

Only her.

And that almost-kiss.

One more inch and I would have tasted her.

Would have felt those lips part under mine.

Would have drowned in vanilla and warmth and the sound of her little gasp.

I could touch it over and over again in my memory and it still wouldn’t be enough.

I didn’t think she’d say yes when I asked her to dinner.

I’d braced for the no.

For the fear in her eyes.

For the reminder that I’m the monster who almost killed her.

But she said yes.

Soft.

Shocked.

Real.

Now the sun is crawling across the sky and I’m useless.

I’ve stood at this window for hours, counting minutes like a lovesick boy instead of a king.

Council papers? Ignored.

Training? Skipped.

Food? Untouched.

All I can do is wait until evening,

until I can sit across from my mate again,

watch her try to be proper while her mind screams about cake,

feel the bond hum between us like it’s the only thing keeping me sane.

Leka is quiet.

The kingdom can wait.

She is the only thing that matters.

Tonight she’ll be in the dining hall.

In candlelight.

Close enough to touch.

And this time,

if the world dares interrupt us again,

I will burn it down myself.

The clock chimed for the eighteenth time today.

Six in the evening.

Finally.

I was out of the throne room before the last note faded, cloak half-forgotten on the chair, crown abandoned somewhere on a table.

I didn’t care.

I reached the grand dining hall doors just as the maids stepped aside.

And she was there.

Silver gown like moonlight made liquid, poured over her skin.

It caught every candle flame and threw it back twice as bright.

Her hair (wine-red fire) spilled loose over one shoulder, the rose I’d tucked behind her ear yesterday replaced by tiny diamonds that looked like stars caught in silk.

She looked like a queen.

My queen.

Her eyes found mine across the hall.

The bond slammed into me so hard I almost staggered.

(Oh god he’s already here why is he staring he’s staring abort abort abort—)

I couldn’t stop staring.

She walked forward, slow, careful steps, like she was scared the floor would vanish.

I met her halfway.

No words at first.

Just the two of us, violet on violet, the air between us humming like a live wire.

“You’re beautiful,” I said.

My voice came out rough, cracked, like I hadn’t used it in years.

Her thoughts went haywire.

(He said beautiful he said beautiful is this real life am I dying—Bree)

I smiled.

Couldn’t help it.

She smiled back—small, shaky, real.

And for one perfect second, the entire palace, the crown, the darkness, the world—

everything fell away.

There was only her.

Silver gown.

Wine-red hair.

Heartbeat racing so loud I felt it in my own chest.

Dinner could wait.

I wanted this moment to last forever.

But of course I couldn’t let my mate stand there a second longer.

I offered my arm (old habit, court manners), and when her fingers settled on it, light as a bird, the bond hummed so loud I almost staggered.

I led her to the table, pulled out her chair myself.

She sat.

Careful.

Like she was scared the chair might bite.

I took my seat across from her.

The servants had outdone themselves: tiny plates, glittering silver, more courses than sense.

She stared at the first dish like it had personally offended her.

Then she grabbed a pastry and bit into it with zero elegance.

Her eyes went wide.

(OH MY GOD THIS IS ILLEGAL.)

I smiled so hard my face hurt.

We ate.

We talked.

She told me about “ramen experiments” and something called “midnight snack rankings.”

Every time she laughed (real, loud, a little snorty), it felt like someone was stitching the broken parts of me back together.

Her shoulders dropped.

Her guard slipped.

She leaned forward when she talked, hands moving, frosting on her thumb she didn’t notice.

Normal.

She was normal with me.

No fear.

No stiff “Your Majesty.”

Just her.

I couldn’t stop staring.

She caught me.

“What?” she asked, mouth half-full of chocolate thing.

“You’re laughing,” I said, voice rough.

She blinked.

Then grinned, cheeks pink.

“Yeah, well… the food’s good.”

I leaned forward, elbows on the table like a savage who’d forgotten every rule.

“I like when you laugh.”

Her thoughts went soft.

(He likes when you laugh Elena)

The bond sang.

For the first time in years, Leka was silent.

For the first time in years, I was happy.

Just her, me, and a table full of desserts.

I never wanted the night to end.

And that’s when I heard the thought I wished would never exist.

(This iced drink reminds me of the fact that my third name is Ice s—)

Ice.

My mate is Ice.

The Lycan assassin with dark powers.

The one the council swore was coming to kill me.

The one who left bodies frozen from the inside out.

The one whose name alone made my guards flinch.

Ice.

I felt the world tilt.

The fork slipped from my fingers, clattered against the plate.

She was still smiling, licking frosting off her thumb, completely unaware that the bond had just turned to poison in my veins.

No.

No no no no no.

Then the darkness stirred.

Leka.

Rising like smoke after years of silence.

I clawed at the inside of my own mind.

Fought.

Screamed.

But he was stronger tonight.

Stronger because she was close.

Stronger because I’d let myself hope.

I watched, helpless, as my body stood.

As my legs carried me around the table.

As my hand reached out.

She saw it first in my eyes.

The warmth drained from her face.

She backed away, chair scraping, voice small.

“Kael?”

Leka smiled with my mouth.

“Hello, Elena.”

Her thoughts vanished.

The bond went cold.

Run, I begged inside the cage of my own skull.

Run, please, gods, run—

But my hand was already reaching for her throat.

And I couldn’t stop it.

Her eyes met mine one last time.

And I watched the fear fade, turning to something cold.

Lifeless.

Ice.