All Chapters of Bound to the Enemy’s Bed: Chapter 141 - Chapter 150

Darkness did not swallow Elaria.It exhaled her.She rose into it like a breath the world had forgotten it was holding—weightless, untethered, suspended in something softer than shadow but deeper than any night she’d ever known. A kind of pre-existence. A hush before a thought.The last thing she remembered from the collapsing light was Kael-Draven’s voice—splitting, reforming, cracking like an old spell peeling apart under its own age.“Something is waking behind you.”And then the world had blinked… and she had slipped between the lashes.Now—A sound pulsed through the dark. Slow. Immense. Too large to belong to any living being. Too patient to belong to something dead.A heartbeat.But not hers.Not theirs.Not one.Not two.All of them.The heartbeat of a reality that shouldn’t exist.Elaria opened her eyes.At first she thought she was floating in a void.But then—shapes began to form in the distance. Not silhouettes. Not memories. Not even ghosts.Echoes.Living scenes made of

White.Not the gentle kind of white—not snow, not sky, not dawn.This was the kind of white that erased.That replaced.That unmade.Elaria’s body spun inside it like a loose thread caught in a storm. Her scream never shaped itself; the light stole the sound before it could exist. Every thought she reached for dissolved into a smear of gold and pressure. Every memory she tried to cling to slid out of her hands like smoke.Only one thing remained fixed:Kael’s silhouette inside the throne-light.But it wasn’t her Kael.Not the fractured, desperate man she had followed through worlds.Not the merged, impossible being born from Draven’s sacrifice.And not the broken Kael she once loved with a bruise under her ribs.This Kael—This one was a perfect lie.The throne’s imagining of him.Ideal.Unflawed.Radiant.A Kael untouched by the merge.Untouched by tragedy.Untouched by her.He lifted his head slowly, the white flaring around his form as though the world bowed to him.His eyes—blue

The rupture did not stop.It should have collapsed inward, burned itself out, or sealed the wound it tore through the world—but instead it kept opening, widening like a mouth learning how to scream for the first time. Light peeled backward into darkness, darkness peeled backward into light, and both spun into a shape that made no sense, a geometry that breathed, trembling like something alive and breaking.And through the center of it—Elaria fell.Not physically. There was no falling here. There was no up or down or direction or air. But she felt the sensation all the same: the vertigo of being untethered, unmade, ripped out of one version of herself and not yet allowed to become another.Her breath—if she still had lungs—shuddered.Her skin—if she still had skin—burned.Her heart—if she still had a heart at all—ached with the memory of something she was losing too fast to name.Kael.Draven.Their names echoed through her mind like bells struck underwater—distorted, bending, fading

The world did not snap back.It wavered—as if deciding whether it wanted to exist at all.The last thing Elaria remembered was the sensation of fingers—her own fingers, but wrong—closing around her wrist, dragging her toward a tear in the air that screamed without sound. The light had been too bright, too white, too sharp to belong to any sky she knew.Now that same light beat against her eyelids.When she opened them, the glow had cooled, settling into a pale luminescence that painted everything in a sickly half-dawn. The ground beneath her was not ground at all, but a trembling surface like stretched glass. Her reflection blinked up at her—delayed, fractured, confused.Her chest rose and fell.She was still herself.For now.Her first breath came ragged. “Kael… Draven…?”Silence.Then the soft crackle of shifting reality.The sky overhead rippled like something alive and uncertain. Colors bled from one side of the horizon to the other—pink to ash to gold to nothing. At the edges of

The light did not explode.It claimed.It rose like a living thing — a pillar of brilliance that felt less like illumination and more like revelation, a wound in the world tearing itself wider to let something ancient breathe again. The web beneath Elaria surged into it, threads snapping upward and weaving themselves around her limbs, her throat, her ribs. It wasn’t binding her.It was absorbing her.She couldn’t scream. The light swallowed sound first, then sensation, then the notion of space itself. Everything became a single, trembling point of pressure inside her chest — a star too small for its own fire.Kael’s hand reached toward her.Draven’s reached through her.And then both dissolved into the rising brilliance.Elaria felt herself lifted — her body weightless, her heart weightless, her memories suddenly too heavy to carry. The threads wrapped around her spine, her lungs, her thoughts, pulling her upward as if she were nothing more than a pulse of information being retrieved