LOGINAuthor’s POVEthan arrived at the restaurant quietly, like a shadow slipping into a crowded room.He chose a seat far from the entrance, half-hidden behind a decorative pillar, where no one would look twice at him. From there, his eyes locked onto one person and never moved again.Alex.Alex sat at a small table near the window, the soft light from outside touching his face. He looked thinner. Tired. Different. But still unmistakably Alex. Still the man Ethan had lost sleep over. Still the man who had disappeared without warning and shattered something deep inside Ethan’s chest.Ethan’s fingers tightened around the edge of the table.He had found him.Right there.Alive.Breathing.Unaware.Ethan didn’t dare move closer. Not yet. Fear wrapped around his heart, not fear of danger, but fear of loss. If Alex saw him, he might panic. He might run. He had already vanished once. Ethan couldn’t survive that again.“I missed you,” Ethan whispered under his breath, his voice barely audible eve
Ethan’s POVFLASHBACKA message.From Alex.My heart stops for the second time today. I swipe the screen open with shaking hands.Alex: I think we should break up. I’m getting married.I stare at the text for a long time, not blinking. My vision blurs, my throat tightens.Wait.What?Getting married?To who?Who dares claim what’s mine.FLASHBACK ENDS (Present Day)Present DayIt has been one week.Seven long, suffocating days since that message appeared on my screen and ripped my chest open like a knife I never saw coming.One week since Alex vanished.No goodbye.No explanation.No closure.Just silence.At first, I thought it was a joke. A bad one. I reread the message over and over, waiting for another text to follow. Something like “I’m kidding” or “We need to talk.” But nothing came.I called him.Once.Twice.A hundred times.Straight to voicemail.I texted him until my thumbs hurt, until my phone battery died, until the words stopped making sense.No reply.By the third day,
Author’s POVThe storm did not come by accident.The sky above the palace twisted violently, clouds folding into each other like wounded beasts. Thunder roared, not as sound, but as warning. The moon dimmed, its light flickering as if even it feared what was about to happen.The king stood alone in the deepest chamber of the palace.A place no one entered.A place no one spoke of.The ancient room was carved entirely from black stone, walls etched with runes older than the kingdom itself. Symbols of life. Symbols of death. Symbols scratched so deep into the stone that time itself had failed to erase them.Amelia lay at the center of the chamber, placed gently on a raised altar of obsidian. Candles surrounded her, dozens of them, burning with silver flames instead of fire.The air smelled heavy. Charged. Alive.The king stood before her, his shoulders squared, his face stripped of all softness.This was not the king the world knew.This was a man willing to burn the world for one woman
Author’s POVThe king reappeared in his chambers, laying Amelia gently on the bed as if she were made of glass. He stayed close, hovering, one hand gripping hers tightly, refusing to let go.Moments later, the doctor rushed in, bowing deeply the instant he entered.“Your Majesty—”The king ignored him.His entire world was reduced to the woman lying before him.“Save her,” he said, his voice low, shaking. “Do whatever you have to do. I don’t care what it costs.”The doctor stepped forward, hands trembling as he checked Amelia, her pulse, her breathing, her responsiveness.The second his fingers touched her wrist, his face drained of color.His hands froze.He stopped breathing for a moment.The king noticed immediately.“Do something,” the king said, rising slowly to his feet.The doctor’s lips parted, but no sound came out.“DO SOMETHING,” the king roared, his control slipping.The doctor staggered back, shaking violently. “Y–Your Majesty…” he stammered. “I’m… I’m sorry…”The words
Author’s POVThe door burst open.“AMELIA!”His voice ripped through the room, raw and shattered. He crossed the distance in seconds, strong arms hauling her from the floor, gripping her as if sheer force could keep her there.“No, no, no, look at me!” he begged, shaking her gently, desperately. “Amelia, please. Open your eyes.”A faint smile touched her lips.He was too late.Or maybe, just in time.She wanted him to know it was okay. That the fear was gone. That she was going to their baby. But her body no longer obeyed her, and the words never came.The darkness closed in, soft and final.“Please… wake up.”“Please…wake up…please.”“Please don’t do this to me”“Say something”The king’s voice was no longer the voice of a ruler.It was broken. Hoarse. Barely holding together.He knelt on the cold floor, Amelia’s limp body held tightly against his chest as if sheer strength alone could force life back into her. Her head rested against his shoulder, her dark hair clinging to her pale
Author’s Note: This chapter touches on suicide. If this topic is difficult for you, consider skipping this chapter or reading when you feel ready.Amelia’s POV The room smelled like blood.He was still there.Lying on the bed. Still. Lifeless.For a moment, I just stared.. I didn’t feel triumph. I didn’t feel victory.I felt empty.Hollow.Like something essential had been ripped out of me, leaving only a shell behind.“I hope you’re happy,” I whispered, my voice calm and broken at the same time. “You took everything from me.”I looked away.I couldn’t look at him anymore.I sat on the floor, my back against the bed, and pulled my knees to my chest. My body felt heavy. Exhausted. Like I had been fighting a war alone for too long.I reached into my pocket and closed my fingers around the small bottle of poison.I didn’t hesitate, I drank itNot because I was brave.But because I was tired.So tired.Before the darkness came, I spoke, not to anyone in the room, but to the people who h







