Chapter 6: Into the Frozen Abyss

​"A tracking spell?" I repeated, looking down at the heavy black diamond resting on my finger. Instead of the cold grip of terror that Kaelen likely expected, a genuine, dark laugh bubbled up from my throat.

​In my past life, Crown Prince Arthur had used spies and royal informants to track my every move, ultimately leading me to a snowy execution. Now, the most dangerous man in the empire was binding my soul to his, ensuring that no one could ever take me from him.

​I looked up to meet Kaelen’s glowing violet eyes. "If I wanted to run away, Duke Blackwood, I wouldn't have walked into your training pavilion in the dead of night. If binding my soul to the North is the price for my revenge, then consider it paid."

​Kaelen’s expression shifted. The wicked, mocking smirk vanished, replaced by a look of intense, predatory fascination. He leaned back against the plush velvet seat, his massive frame radiating a suffocating but strangely comforting heat.

​"You are a very strange creature, Aurelia," he murmured, his deep voice vibrating over the steady rumble of the carriage wheels. "Most women would be screaming to be let out by now. Or crying for their fathers."

​"My father watched the Emperor strip me of my inheritance and didn't say a single word," I replied coldly, leaning my head against the frosty window. "I have no family left in the capital. The only thing I left behind is a grave I refuse to be buried in."

​Silence fell between us, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It was the quiet understanding of two monsters who had finally found each other in the dark.

​The journey to the Northern border took three grueling days. As we left the lush, golden plains of the capital behind, the landscape transformed into a harsh, unforgiving wasteland of jagged black rocks and eternal snow. The temperature plummeted so drastically that ice formed on the inside of the carriage windows. Yet, I never felt the cold. Kaelen’s raw magical aura acted like a burning hearth, wrapping around me protectively.

​On the evening of the third day, the carriage finally ground to a halt.

​"Welcome to your new cage, little bird," Kaelen said, pushing the heavy iron door open.

​I stepped out into the freezing blizzard and gasped. The Blackwood Estate in the capital was a mere vacation home compared to this. The Northern Fortress was a terrifying, colossal structure carved directly into the side of a frozen mountain. Its towering spires pierced the stormy sky like jagged teeth, and the massive walls were stained with the ancient blood of countless beast invasions.

​Rows of heavily armed, terrifyingly silent soldiers lined the courtyard. They didn't kneel. They just stared at me with hardened, calculating eyes. This wasn't a noble court; this was a war camp.

​Suddenly, a sharp, ragged hiss escaped Kaelen’s lips.

​I turned sharply. He was gripping the side of the carriage, his knuckles turning stark white. The temporary suppression my blood had provided three days ago was fading. Fast.

​Before my eyes, the horrific, glowing black veins violently erupted up his neck, crawling toward his jawline. His violet eyes flickered ominously, threatening to drown in that abyssal, cursed black. The temperature in the courtyard plummeted further as his dark magic began to violently leak out.

​The soldiers around us immediately took a step back, their hands flying to their weapons. They knew what was happening. The 'Mad Blood' was waking up.

​"Kaelen!" I rushed forward, grabbing his burning, heavily muscled arm.

​"Don't touch me," he snarled, a guttural, beastly sound that didn't sound human at all. He violently shoved me back, panting heavily as he fought to retain his sanity. "Get her inside! Now!"

​A massive knight in silver armor stepped forward, grabbing my shoulder to pull me away. "My Lady, we must go. When the Commander loses control—"

​"No!" I snapped, shaking off the knight's grip. I pulled the silver dagger from my boot, the exact one I had used in the capital.

​I looked at Kaelen, whose eyes were completely black, his massive body trembling with lethal, uncontrolled power. He was seconds away from a violent rampage that would slaughter his own men.

​"Take me to his chambers," I ordered the knight, my voice ringing with absolute, unyielding authority. "And bring me a mortar, pestle, and the Northern Wolfsbane flower. The political games are over. It's time to cure the monster."