What He Chose

The silence between them hurt more than the screaming outside.

Eleanor stared at Alaric as rain poured through the ruined manor around them. Spirits moved in the shadows beyond the kitchen doorway, pacing like wolves waiting for weakness.

But all she could hear was:

You knew.

Alaric’s jaw tightened.

“Yes.”

The word nearly broke her.

The Hollow King laughed softly beneath the mountain.

“There it is.”

“Silence,” Alaric snarled.

The entire manor shook violently in response.

But Eleanor stepped backward from him before he could reach for her again.

“You knew marrying me could weaken the seal.”

His silver eyes flashed with pain. “I believed I could hold it.”

“You believed?” Her voice cracked sharply. “That was your plan?”

Another chain groaned somewhere beneath the mountain.

Louder now.

Closer.

Father Matthias wisely remained silent near the doorway, though Eleanor could feel his gaze shifting uneasily between them.

Alaric stepped toward her carefully.

“Eleanor—”

“No.”

The word came instantly.

The shadows around him recoiled slightly at the sharpness in her voice.

For the first time since she’d met him, uncertainty crossed his face.

Not because she feared him.

Because she was angry with him.

And somehow that wounded him more.

“You had no right to decide that for me.”

“I know.”

Again with the honesty.

No excuses.

No lies.

That somehow made it worse.

The Hollow King hummed beneath the house like someone enjoying a play.

“He loved you enough to doom kingdoms.”

Alaric’s expression turned murderous again.

But Eleanor finally understood.

All this time she had believed Blackwood Manor was a prison Alaric endured alone.

She’d been wrong.

He had chosen her anyway.

Knowing what it might cost.

The realization hurt so badly it became difficult to breathe.

Another violent crash echoed from deeper inside the manor.

A spirit screamed.

Then abruptly stopped.

Eleanor’s pulse quickened.

Something else was inside the house now.

Something hunting the spirits.

Father Matthias went pale.

“We need to leave.”

Alaric ignored him entirely.

His gaze never left Eleanor.

“I would do it again.”

The confession landed like a blade between her ribs.

The Hollow King laughed louder beneath the mountain.

“Oh, you are your father’s son after all.”

Darkness twisted violently around Alaric.

But Eleanor barely noticed.

Because she saw it now.

Not manipulation.

Not cruelty.

Love.

Terrible, obsessive, world-ending love.

The kind that chose one person over everyone else.

Over logic.

Over duty.

Over entire kingdoms if necessary.

Alaric took another careful step toward her.

“I spent thirty years alone in that house,” he said quietly. “Thirty years listening to it beneath the mountain. Thirty years believing I was nothing except a lock on a cage.”

His voice roughened slightly.

“Then you smiled at me in the Blackwood market while buying herbs.”

Eleanor’s chest tightened painfully.

“You looked at me like I was a man.”

Not a monster.

Not an heir to something buried by gods.

Just a man.

The bond between them pulsed hard enough to ache.

Love.

Grief.

Devotion.

Fear.

All tangled together.

“And I became selfish.”

Outside, something enormous moved through the forest.

Trees cracked.

The surviving villagers screamed again in the distance.

Father Matthias gripped his relic tightly. “It’s coming closer.”

The Hollow King sighed contentedly.

“Yes.”

Then suddenly every shadow in the manor froze.

Alaric’s expression changed instantly.

Not anger.

Alarm.

The thing moving through the forest was not a spirit.

Eleanor felt it too now.

Heavy footsteps shook the mountain outside.

Slow.

Massive.

Approaching Blackwood House.

Father Matthias whispered a prayer.

Then the enormous silhouette emerged through the storm beyond the ruined windows.

Antlers.

Too many eyes.

A body stitched from bark, bone, and shadow.

And wrapped around its throat—

Broken chains.