The Mad Ҡìղց

Contract

Ayana stood back, her arms crossed, observing Wang with a calm detachment, though her sharp eyes missed nothing. The rage that bubbled beneath the surface of Wang's calm exterior was exactly what she needed. There was no way anyone in this forsaken realm could control the fury of a wolf whose mate was being held captive. She had played her cards well.

The air was heavy with tension. Ayana could feel it pressing down on her, wrapping itself around her throat like a suffocating vine. She stole a glance at Duan Dan, who had her arms crossed, her face impassive. Yet, Ayana knew her well enough to catch the subtle fire burning in her eyes—Duan Dan was angry too, but Ayana couldn't allow her to act out here.

"We've come this far," Ayana thought, her fingers drumming rhythmically against her thigh. She wasn't about to let this escalate into a full-blown war with the Coral Waters. Yet she could see it in Wang's eyes, the silent threat of a storm he was barely holding back. The mention of his mate—Zhan—had broken whatever fragile control he had left.

Footsteps echoed from a distant corridor. The sound was faint at first, almost lost in the symphony of bubbling coral fountains and the soft humming of the ocean magic that permeated the palace. But Wang's ears perked, his wolf senses tuning into the noise. His eyes shifted from Filavandrel to the corridor. His heart pounded with anticipation.

"Zhan..." The name was a whisper, barely audible, but it was filled with a longing so raw that Ayana felt a twinge in her chest. This was no longer about power or pride. It was about love—about the bond between two souls who had been ripped apart.

The footsteps grew louder. A figure emerged from the shadows, tall and lean, with silver cuffs clamped around his wrists, leading to chains that dragged across the marble floor. His hair, once the color of midnight, was streaked with gray. His eyes—once full of life—were dull, as though they'd been drained of all hope, his clothes tattered and soiled from weeks of labor on the coral farm. He looked nothing like the proud king he once was.
He looked broken, a shell of the man Wang remembered.

"Zhan..." Wang breathed again, louder this time.

Zhan's head lifted slowly, his gaze locking onto Wang. His body tensed as recognition flickered in his eyes. There was a moment—just a second—where time seemed to stop. Then, without warning, Zhan broke into a run, his chains clattering behind him. Wang met him halfway, catching him in a bone-crushing embrace.

Ayana stepped back, allowing the reunion to unfold before her. She was not one for sentimental moments, but even she couldn't deny the intensity of the love between the two men. She could feel the raw energy pulsing between them, a force that transcended everything happening in this cursed kingdom.

Zhan was trembling in Wang's arms, his voice choked with emotion. "I thought... I thought I'd never see you again."

Wang pressed his face into Zhan's neck, inhaling his scent as though it was the only thing keeping him grounded. "I'm here now. I'm never letting you go again."

I miss you. Zhan breathe.

"And I you," Wang replied pulling away from the hug, his voice fierce but soft, eyes burning as he scanned Zhan's bruised and battered form. His anger, already simmering, began to rise once more. He turned to face Filavandrel. "You'll pay for this."

Filavandrel, despite her injuries, managed to summon enough dignity to straighten herself. "He was a fair exchange," she spat. "Do you think my kingdom runs on goodwill? I had no choice."

Wang stepped forward, his eyes blazing with renewed fury, but Ayana held up a hand, stopping him. "Enough," she said, her voice a cold whisper. "You have what you came for. Let's not waste any more time here."