These threads that bind and tear *A dark fae fantasy- romance*

Chapter 3: The king that came from the veil

Present day

Aveline's heart thrummed in her chest, erratic heartbeats so loud they almost drowned out the cries around her.  The cold night air bit at her skin as she ran, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. Aveline searched for her mother, her wide eyes dashing frantically over the scene before her. Large figures towered from dark horse like creatures, grabbing at villagers, dragging a few women by their arm. She saw a man she knew, a farmer fending off at attacker, the dark metal glinting in the moon light. She watched as his dark silver sword cut a large gash through the farmers chest.

She continued onwards, her own feet managing to trip her as she stumbled towards the forest that loomed ahead, dark and foreboding, but it was her only chance. She didn't dare look back—she couldn't. The echo of footfalls behind her was too close, too heavy, a constant reminder of the danger she was trying to escape.

Branches scraped at her arms, snagging her nightdress as she pushed through the thick underbrush. Her heart pounded in her chest, louder than the wind howling through the trees. She had no idea where she was going, only that she had to keep moving, to put as much distance between herself and the Rider.

Her legs burned with the effort, her muscles screaming for her to stop, but fear won the battle. She stumbled, nearly falling, but caught herself on a low-hanging branch. For a moment, she slowed, listening to the sounds of the forest—of pursuit. Then she felt a large hand encompass the back of her head, pulling it back to meet burning embers. Panic surged through her, a wildfire that consumed every rational thought. She reached for her knife, tucked into her boot, her arm simultaneously flying back to hit him somewhere anywhere. He pressed her against his chest, his hand circling to the front and down her side, the cold metal grating against her skin. Her heart lurched. She wrapped her hand around the wooden handle, the blade catching the light of moon, she brought it down aiming for his stomach, but he grabbed her hand effortlessly throwing the knife to the ground.

Spinning her around he slammed her so her back hit a tree with a heavy thud. The hilt of his sword pressed firmly under of her jaw, he tilted his head his cold eyes calculating. A faint smirk played on his full lips, a shadow of a scar above his lip. Aveline met his gaze unflinching, watching the embers swirl in his eyes, the movement was almost hypnotic and she had to remind herself of the danger.

"The one who can read fate" he murmured. Aveline could feel his eyes travel down her body his other hand tucking a small strand of hair behind her pink frosted ears "what do they call you?"

She remained silent, inching imperceptibly closer to the tree, her chin raised in defiance. His smile broadened, an action that might have seemed charming if he wasn't covered in black metal and a sword wasn't pressed into her neck.

"No?" He asked, his voice like smooth and rich like warm honey.

Aveline swallowed, feeling the cool steel under her chin. She could sense the weight of his question hanging between them, his gaze remained unwaveringly focused on her eyes. The forest around them seemed to hold its breath, the wind stilling, leaves frozen in the air as if even nature feared what might happen next.

His fingers brushed against her ear again, lingering for a moment before pulling back as if scorched by something hot and Aveline wondered if he could feel the tug of the thread the way she was so very aware of the glimmering string of lights. She watched that sheer gold thread swirl around them, twinkling faintly. Starting around her wrist and wrapping around their centre pulling them ever closer. "You must have a name," he mused, his voice a low murmur. He leaned in slightly, the heat of his presence oppressive, like standing too close to a fire. His large hand gripped the rough bark of the tree by her head caging her in. She could she the black leather gloves wrinkle and smell his scent wafting in the wind. Fresh pine, mint and burnt leather.