That night, alone in his hospital room, Rhys cried.
He cried for Kai. For his lost future. For the wedding that would never happen and the life they'd never build together.
He cried for himself—trapped in a nightmare no one else could see.
And he cried because, despite everything, a small traitorous part of his mind whispered:
What if she's right? What if you did kill him?
"I didn't," Rhys whispered to the darkness. "I didn't, I didn't, I didn't—"
"I know you didn't."
Rhys froze.
Pryce stood at the foot of his bed, luminous in the dark room. He looked... sad. Genuinely sad.
"Don't," Rhys choked out. "Don't you dare pretend to comfort me. You did this. You destroyed everything."
"I saved you," Pryce corrected softly. "From a life of mediocrity with someone who could never understand you the way I do."
"Kai understood me perfectly!"
"Did he?" Pryce moved around the bed, slow and graceful. "Did he believe you about me? Did he think you were sane?"
Rhys said nothing.
Because the truth was... no. Kai had been supportive, loving, but he'd also gently encouraged Rhys to "let go" of his childhood hallucinations. To accept they weren't real.
"You see?" Pryce sat on the edge of the bed. The mattress didn't dip under his weight. "Only I truly see you. Only I believe you. Because only I have loved you for three hundred years."
"That's not love," Rhys said. "That's obsession."
"What's the difference?"
Rhys had no answer.
Pryce reached out, and this time Rhys didn't pull away when those cold fingers brushed through his hair.
"Come to me," Pryce whispered. "Come home. The palace is waiting. I'm waiting.
We can finally be together, without interruption, without anyone trying to take you away."
"What palace?"
"Ashbourne. My home. Our home." Pryce's eyes gleamed. "It still stands, you know.
They moved it stone by stone across the ocean. It's been waiting for you to return."
"I'm in a psychiatric hospital waiting to be charged with murder. I can't exactly go house-hunting."
"Details." Pryce waved a hand dismissively. "I can arrange your release. I've had three hundred years to learn how to manipulate the mortal world."
"Why would I go anywhere with you? You killed Kai!"
"And I'd kill anyone else who tried to take you from me." Pryce said it so simply, so matter-of-factly. "That's what love means, Rhys. Protecting what's yours. Fighting for it. Destroying anything that threatens it."
"That's not—"
"Come to Ashbourne," Pryce interrupted. "Face the truth of who you were, who we were. Remember our first life together. And then..." His smile turned sharp. "Then you can decide if you still want to run from me."
"And if I refuse?"
Pryce's expression darkened. "Then I'll keep eliminating everyone you try to love until you have no choice but to turn to me. I have eternity, beloved. Do you?"
With that, he vanished.
Leaving Rhys alone with a terrible choice:
Stay here, be labeled insane, possibly go to prison for a murder he didn't commit...
Or follow a ghost to a cursed palace and confront a past life he wasn't sure he believed in.
Neither option felt like freedom.
Both felt like different types of prison.
To be continued..