The Firebound

The forest had never seemed so alive, so hostile. Branches clawed at her gown, dragging at the white tulle as if the trees themselves wanted to keep her from escaping. Breath ragged, heart pounding, she ran faster. The runaway princess.

Behind her lay the gilded prison she had once called home, and ahead-unknown freedom. Or so she thought.

Far beyond the forest, nestled against the cliffs where sunlight dared not linger, stood an ancient cursed kingdom. Its walls bled with ivy, its spires broken yet unyielding. Legends whispered that no soul entered its gates and lived unchanged. Some said shadows ruled there. Others claimed the land itself was alive, waiting for its chosen queen.

It was there he waited-the man feared across kingdoms. A ruthless dark king, his armor a thing of black steel and intricate carvings, his presence commanding silence, even from the winds. He had built his reign upon fire and fear, yet his hunger was not for power alone. His hunger was for her.

"You carry fire in your veins, little one-fire that was always meant to be mine."

And when battle raged around them, when swords clashed and fire lit the skies, he fell-not as king, but as a man whispering his final truth against her lips:

"I was yours from the beginning... and I'll be yours until the end."

The world seemed to crumble that night. And yet, in the ruins, in the ashes, in the silence that followed-she felt his presence, watching, waiting.

"He chose you long before you were born."

The runaway princess was never meant to be free. She was meant to reign beside him. Not as his captive. Not even as his queen.

But as his fire.
As his fate.
As his undoing.