The morning sun filtered through the trees like stained glass. I barely slept.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw him.
Ravon.
His voice still echoed in my mind. His crimson eyes. The smoke around him. The way he said I was his like it was both a warning… and a promise.
I stared at my wrist where the mark had appeared. It was gone now—or at least, hidden. But I could feel it under my skin. Like heat rising from inside me. Like something sacred… or cursed.
I thought I was going mad. Maybe I was.
---
I snuck back into the temple before the other acolytes woke. I scrubbed the blood from my fingers, brushed the leaves from my robes, and tried to act normal.
But I wasn't normal anymore.
And everything around me felt… different.
Even the candles flickered when I walked past.
Even the statues turned cold.
I prayed at the altar, trying to center myself. But my heart refused to still.
And then—pain.
It hit me out of nowhere. A sharp twist in my chest. I gasped, clutching my ribs. It wasn't mine. I knew that instinctively.
It's him.
I closed my eyes—and I saw it.
A dark place.
Ravon surrounded by shadows.
Blades flashing. A wound opening in his side.
Blood—black as fire.
> "No," I whispered. "Ravon…"
---
💫 Later that day
I found her waiting for me in the sacred garden—the one they say only the chosen can enter.
Lady Maeve. The blind priestess. Her white eyes were clouded, but they saw through everything.
> "You summoned him," she said, before I even opened my mouth.
I froze. "How did you—?"
> "The air changed. The wards cracked. The old powers stirred. I've felt it before."
Her voice was soft. Ancient.
"The Demon Lord walks among us again."
I didn't deny it.
I couldn't.
> "I didn't mean to," I said quietly. "I didn't know the spell would work."
> "Intent means little when prophecy is at play."
She turned her face to the wind. "You carry the Crimson Bond now."
> "I don't know what that means."
> "It means," she said, "that your soul has been tied to a creature of ruin. His pain will be your pain. His blood… your curse."
I swallowed hard. "Can it be broken?"
She turned to me slowly.
> "Only by death. Or devotion."
My breath caught. "Devotion?"
> "A bond like this cannot be severed—it can only be completed. If you choose to walk with him, protect him… love him, even… the curse may shift."
"But if your heart turns against him—if fear wins—he'll consume you."
---
🌌 That night…
I couldn't sleep.
His pain still pulsed in my chest like thunder.
Something inside me needed to find him.
And before I knew it, I was running through the forest again, barefoot, guided by something deeper than instinct.
That's when I found him.
Slumped against a tree. Wings drooped. His chest rising shallowly. Blood soaked through his dark robes.
"Ravon!" I gasped, falling to my knees beside him.
His eyes fluttered open—slowly. Weakly.
> "You felt it," he murmured. "You shouldn't have come."
> "I had to."
I reached for him, but he stopped me with a weak hand.
> "I'm not safe."
> "I don't care."
He let out a bitter laugh. "Foolish girl."
But his fingers tightened around mine.
He was cold. Burning on the outside… cold on the inside.
> "Why do you care?" he asked, voice barely audible.
> "I don't know," I whispered. "But I do."
He stared at me.
And for the first time—I saw fear in his eyes.
Not for himself.
For me.
> "If you stay close to me…" he said slowly, "you'll be dragged into fire. I destroy everything I touch."
I looked at him—and didn't look away.
> "Then burn me."
---