I push myself up on one elbow, looking down at him. His face is half in shadow, but I can see the hardness returning to his jaw, the walls rebuilding behind his eyes.

"Please," I whisper. "After everything—after tonight—"

"My answer will not change." His voice is cold now, all traces of tenderness gone. "The chains stay."

Something breaks inside me. "Do you truly think I would run? Now?"

He sits up, the sheets pooling around his waist. In the faint firelight, I can see the scars that map his chest—evidence of all the battles he's fought, all the pain he's endured.

“I don’t wish to argue with you, Calliope.”

I pull away from his touch. "So instead you'll keep me prisoner forever? Is that what love means to you?"

"Love?" He laughs, but there's no humor in it. "The chains stay."

He lies back down, turning away from me. Within minutes, his breathing evens out again, but I remain awake, staring up at the shadowed ceiling.

There is a singular moment when it happens. I know as soon as it does that I will never forget it.

The truth settles over me like frost, clear and cold and absolute: Nothing will ever change.

Not really. He will never trust me, never truly love me—not in any way that matters. The chains around my ankles seem to grow heavier with each passing moment, their weight suddenly unbearable.

I think of the note, lying somewhere on the floor beside the bed. Linus, whoever he truly is, doesn't matter now. It doesn’t matter what he wants, what he says, how he lies. None of them matter. Not this kingdom, not its king, not its lords. What matters is the chance they offer. The possibility of freedom. The world I can build for myself beyond this place.

Because I know now, with a clarity that steals my breath, that I must leave this castle.

If I stay, these chains will become more than physical bonds—they'll become who I am. I'll forget what it means to be free, to be truly myself. I'll become nothing more than an extension of his will, his power, his fear.

I cannot let that happen.

Beside me, Arvoren sleeps on, unaware of the resolution crystallizing in my heart. I study his face one last time, memorizing the strong line of his jaw, the sweep of his dark lashes against his cheeks. Part of me still loves him, I think. Part of me always will.

But love isn't enough. Not when it comes at the cost of everything I am.

A beast screams in the distance, its cry carrying on the wind like a promise. Or perhaps a warning. Tomorrow night, everything will change. Tomorrow night, I'll either find my freedom or die trying.

For now, I lie in the darkness beside my captor, my lover, my enemy, and wait for dawn.

I know now what I must do.

Chapter 31 - Arvoren

"Seven more dead in the night. Three children among them."

Darian's voice echoes off the black stone walls of the underchamber. Blood drips from a fresh cut above his eye—evidence of his latest encounter with the beasts that now prowl our streets.

I grip the arms of my throne, feeling the metal bend beneath my fingers. The green torchlight casts strange shadows across the chamber floor, making the bloodstains from previous audiences appear almost black. Around us, my commanders and councilmen shift uneasily, armor creaking in the tense silence.

"Where?"

"The western quarter, near the forges." Darian's expression is grim. "The beasts are growing bolder. This one broke through a stone wall to reach them."

As if in answer, a distant roar echoes through the castle, so powerful it makes the torches gutter. Several of my commanders flinch. Weaklings, all of them.

"My King." A new voice joins the chorus—one of my scouts, practically stumbling down the steps into the underchamber, his face pale with fear. "White dragons approach from the north, from Eldran. Of House Draven's forces, three of them. They've been spotted scaling the outer peaks."

Of course. Of course they would come now, when our defenses are stretched thin, when these godsforsaken beasts tear through my city like paper.