All Chapters of The Forgotten Vow (MM Romance): Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Avelin POVThe first morning back at the inn feels different. Not because anything has changed, but because everything has. I wake up slowly, the soft light of morning stretching across the room. I don’t move. I just lie there, feeling it, the bond, a steady warmth at the back of my mind. Alive. Constant. Real.Then I turn my head. Shen is beside me, still asleep, one arm wrapped around me as if it stayed there all night without ever loosening. His face is calmer than I’ve ever seen it, no tension, no shadows, just peace. My husband. The word settles deep in my chest.I reach up slowly, brushing my fingers along his jaw. “Shen,” I whisper.His eyes open almost immediately, sharp, alert, then soften when he sees me. “Morning, baby,” he murmurs, his voice rough with sleep.I smile. “Morning.”He pulls me closer without hesitation, pressing his face into my neck as if he needs to make sure I’m still there, like I might disappear if he lets go. I don’t pull away; I never do.The kitchen s

Avelin POVIt starts with the first scream. I wake up disoriented, heart racing, not understanding where I am or what I’m hearing. Then I realize, it’s Shen. “—No!” His voice breaks through the darkness, raw and sharp, as if something inside him is being torn apart. I sit up immediately. “Shen!” I call, rushing to his side. He’s thrashing violently, body rigid, breath uneven, sweat soaking through his shirt. His hands are clenched so tightly that his knuckles look pale even in the dim light. The moonlight filtering through the gap in the curtains casts heavy shadows across the bed. I see the sheer panic etched on his face, a look of pure terror that cuts through me like a physical blow. I have never seen him look so helpless, so utterly consumed by a force I cannot protect him from. It makes my own chest constrict with sudden, suffocating fear. “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” I say quickly, grabbing his shoulders. He gasps suddenly, eyes flying open. But he’s not seeing me. Not yet.

Shen POV A year begins without me noticing, and somehow I find myself wishing it would never end. The seasons change quietly, summer fading into gold and amber, leaves gathering along the paths near the inn. The air cools, crisp and clean, carrying the scent of salt and woodsmoke. Then winter arrives, bringing cold mornings and warm fires. Avelin is wrapped in soft layers, cheeks flushed pink from the chill. I learn the rhythm of it, the way he warms his hands around a cup before speaking, the way he leans closer to me without thinking. I find myself mesmerized by the simple beauty of his existence in the dead of winter. Watching him pull an oversized knit sweater over his frame, his breath forming small white clouds in the freezing morning air, fills me with a fierce, protective warmth that defies the cold. I learn to anticipate his needs before he voices them, stoking the fireplace higher before he enters the room, preparing his tea exactly as he likes it when he wakes. This dom

Avelin POVIt starts small, so small I almost miss it. Father pauses halfway up the stairs one morning, just for a second, one hand gripping the railing tighter than usual, his breath slightly uneven.“Father?” I ask, frowning.He waves it off immediately. “I’m fine,” he says. “Just tired.”I don’t believe him, not completely, but I let it go because he has always been strong, always steady, the kind of man who doesn’t break. But then it happens again, and again. By evening, he is sitting more often, resting longer, his shoulders heavier, his movements slower. Still controlled. Still proud. But different.“Something’s wrong,” I tell Shen quietly one night. We’re in the kitchen, cleaning after dinner. Father has already gone to bed too early.Shen doesn’t answer right away. He watches the doorway, then looks back at me. “I know,” he says. That simple, that certain.The next morning, Shen doesn’t give him a choice. “You’re seeing Dr. Len,” he says firmly.Father frowns. “I said I’m fine

Avelin POVEverything becomes noise. Then nothing. Then chaos.“Father!” My voice breaks as I drop to my knees beside him. He’s on the floor, not sitting, not resting, collapsed. His hand claws at his chest as if something inside him is trying to tear its way out. His breathing feels wrong, too fast, too shallow, like he’s drowning without water.The sound of his struggle fills the small room, a wet, jagged rasp that tears through the inn's silence. I can see the frantic pulse in his neck, the skin there grey and slick with cold sweat. It feels as if the very air has been sucked out of the hallway, leaving me lightheaded and trembling. I reach for him, my hands hovering for a second because he looks so fragile, so unlike the man who raised me. The strength that once defined his every move has vanished, replaced by a terrifying, animalistic fight for air.“Stay with me,” I whisper, gripping his hand. It’s cold.“No, no, no—this isn’t happening.” I try to remember. First aid, breathing