Mira's POV
I never figured out how to activate the binding ritual.
The guards came for me while I was still clutching the key, still desperately trying to remember something—anything—from Seraphina's memories about how binding magic worked.
But her memories were fragmented, incomplete. Like trying to read a book with half the pages torn out.
Now I was being dragged through the prison corridors in chains, the key hidden against my skin, burning like a brand.
"Move faster," one guard snarled, shoving me forward so hard I stumbled.
My bare feet scraped against the cold stone. They'd taken my shoes. Taken everything except the thin dress I wore. I looked exactly like what I was supposed to be: a condemned villainess being led to her death.
The corridor opened into blinding sunlight.
I squeezed my eyes shut, but the guards didn't slow down. They hauled me forward, and when I finally forced my eyes open, my breath stopped.
Thousands of people packed the capital square. Thousands. All of them screaming, cheering, throwing things. The hatred in their voices hit me like a physical wave.
"Death to the villainess!"
"Burn her!"
"Monster!"
They didn't know me. Didn't know that I was just a girl from another world who'd been pulled here against my will. To them, I was Seraphina Blackwood—the woman who'd tried to poison their prince, who'd practiced dark magic, who'd earned every bit of the death sentence.
They're going to watch me die, I thought numbly. Thousands of people are going to cheer while I'm murdered for crimes I didn't commit.
The guards shoved me up wooden steps onto a raised platform. A execution platform.
In the center stood a chopping block, dark with old bloodstains.
Beside it stood a massive man in a black hood, holding an axe that gleamed in the morning sun.
My legs gave out.
The guards caught me before I fell, forcing me to stand. One of them laughed. "Not so proud now, are you?"
I wasn't proud. I was terrified.
The binding ritual, I thought desperately, pressing my hand against where the key was hidden. Please, please let it work. Let him feel it. Let him come.
But I didn't know if I'd done it right. Didn't know if holding the key and wishing desperately was enough to activate ancient magic I barely understood.
What if he didn't come? What if he couldn't feel it? What if—
"People of Aethermoor!"
The voice cut through the crowd's noise like a blade. Everyone went quiet.
Crown Prince Aldric stood at the front of the platform, golden and perfect in the sunlight. He looked every inch the noble hero—handsome, confident, righteous.
I'd read his character in the novel. He was supposed to be brave and kind.
But Evangeline had said he helped frame Caspian. Had said he was a coward who sacrificed his best friend to save himself.
"Today we execute justice!" Aldric continued, his voice ringing across the square. "Seraphina Blackwood stands convicted of treason, attempted murder, and trafficking with dark forces. Her crimes cannot be forgiven!"
The crowd roared approval.
Aldric turned to look at me, and for just a second, something cold flickered in his eyes. Something that looked almost like fear.
He was afraid of me. But why?
Then I understood.
He's afraid I'll talk. Afraid I'll tell everyone the truth about what he did to Caspian.
But the real Seraphina was already dead. She couldn't expose him.
And I—I didn't know enough to be dangerous.
So why did he still look scared?
"Bring the prisoner forward!" Aldric commanded.
The guards dragged me to the chopping block. My knees hit the platform hard. Someone grabbed my hair and shoved my head down, forcing my neck onto the bloodstained wood.
The crowd's screaming got louder.
I couldn't see anything except the platform beneath me. Couldn't move with the guard's hand in my hair, holding me down.
This is it, I thought, tears streaming down my face. This is how I die. Again.
The executioner's footsteps were heavy as he moved into position.
I heard the axe being raised. Heard the crowd chanting for my death.
Heard High Priestess Evangeline's voice, sweet and pleased: "May the goddess have mercy on your soul."
No mercy, I thought bitterly. There's no mercy in this world. No heroes. No salvation.
The axe began its descent.
I closed my eyes.
I'm sorry, Seraphina. I'm sorry I couldn't save either of us.
And then—
The world went black.
Not the darkness of death, but something else entirely. A darkness that felt alive, angry, powerful.
The crowd's cheering turned to screams of terror.
The hand in my hair released abruptly. I heard the guard stumble backward, heard him yelling something I couldn't understand.
The pressure of the axe above my neck vanished.
I lifted my head carefully, my heart pounding so hard I thought it might explode.
The sky had turned completely black, even though seconds ago it had been bright morning. Not clouds—this was something else. Something wrong. Like someone had draped a curtain of pure darkness over the sun.
And through that darkness came a wave of power that made every hair on my body stand up.
Dark magic. Raw and overwhelming and terrifying.
The crowd was panicking now, people trampling each other to escape. Guards ran in all directions, their weapons forgotten.
Even Prince Aldric had stumbled backward, his perfect composure cracked.
Only Evangeline stood still, her face twisted with fury. "No," she hissed. "He shouldn't be able to—the binding was incomplete—"
A sound cut through the chaos.
Hoofbeats.
Heavy, rhythmic, impossibly loud.
From the darkness at the edge of the square, a figure emerged.
A man on a massive black horse, wrapped in shadows that moved like living things around him. His presence was so overwhelming, so absolute, that even in the panic, people froze to watch.
The Dark Lord had arrived.
He rode through the scattering crowd like they didn't exist, his silver eyes fixed on the execution platform. On me.
The horse stopped at the base of the platform. The man dismounted in one fluid motion.
And then he looked at me.
I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Could only stare back at those silver eyes that seemed to see straight through me, straight into my soul.
He was beautiful in the way a sword was beautiful—sharp, dangerous, designed to kill.
But there was something else in his eyes. Something that looked almost like... confusion?
He took a step toward me, his head tilting slightly. Studying my face.
"You're not her," he said quietly. His voice was deep, rough, like he didn't use it often.
My throat closed up. He knew. Somehow, he knew immediately that I wasn't Seraphina.
"I—" I started, but the words stuck.
His eyes narrowed. Then widened. "You activated the binding ceremony."
It wasn't a question.
I nodded, unable to speak.
Something flickered across his face—surprise, anger, and something else I couldn't identify.
"Impossible," he muttered, more to himself than to me. "The binding only works between fated mates. You can't be—"
"CASPIAN NYX!"
Evangeline's scream cut through everything. She stood at the edge of the platform, her hands glowing with white magic. "You dare interrupt a holy execution?"
Caspian—the Dark Lord—didn't even look at her. His eyes stayed locked on mine.
"Who are you?" he asked softly.
"Mira," I whispered. "My name is Mira Chen. I'm not from this world. Evangeline summoned me here to die in Seraphina's place. Your Seraphina—she's already dead. I'm so sorry."
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then dark magic exploded from Caspian like a shockwave, so powerful it knocked people off their feet. The execution platform cracked under the pressure.
When he spoke again, his voice was cold enough to freeze blood.
"Already dead," he repeated. "Seraphina is already dead."
"Three days ago," I said quickly, tears streaming down my face. "Celestine poisoned her. I swear I'm telling the truth. I swear—"
"I know you are," he interrupted. His silver eyes bored into mine. "I can see souls, remember? I can see that you're not her."
He took another step closer. Close enough that I could feel the dark magic radiating from him like heat.
"But I can also see something else," he continued, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Something that shouldn't be possible."
He reached out and touched the place where I'd hidden the key—pressed his hand flat against my chest, right over my frantically beating heart.
The key burned hot beneath my skin.
And suddenly, I felt it. A connection, snapping into place like a lock clicking shut. A binding that hadn't been there before, tying my soul to his.
Caspian's eyes went wide with shock.
"You completed it," he breathed. "The binding ceremony. But that's impossible unless—"
He stopped. Stared at me like he was seeing something that broke every rule he knew.
"Unless what?" I asked desperately.
He smiled then, and it was the most terrifying thing I'd ever seen. Not cruel, but wild. Dangerous. Free.
"Unless," he said quietly, "the Moon Goddess decided to give me a second fated mate."
The square went dead silent.
Everyone—Evangeline, Aldric, the guards, the crowd—everyone stared in shock.
Because what Caspian had just said was impossible. Fated mates were once in a lifetime. You couldn't have two.
Except apparently, I could.
Caspian's smile widened. "This woman is mine," he announced, his voice carrying across the entire square. "My bride. My fated mate. And anyone who tries to harm her—" His eyes found Evangeline. "—will answer to me."
He cut through my chains with a flick of dark magic, then wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me against him.
"Hold on," he whispered in my ear.
"Wait, what—"
Shadows exploded around us.
The last thing I saw before the world dissolved into darkness was Evangeline's face, twisted with absolute rage, screaming something I couldn't hear.
Then we were gone, pulled through shadow and space and impossible distances.
When the world came back, we were somewhere else entirely.
And I was wrapped in the arms of the Dark Lord, bound to him by magic I didn't understand, in a world that wanted me dead.
His silver eyes met mine.
"Now," he said softly, "you're going to tell me everything."