CROWN OF FORBIDDEN HEARTS
Chapter 38: HE CLAIMED HER!

Chapter 38: 38: HE CLAIMED HER!

The air inside the palace had never felt more suffocating. Zara sat in her chambers, fingers clenching the edge of the table, her heart racing. Lady Vaelor’s words rang in her mind, a brutal truth she couldn’t shake.

"Erythian’s body has been found." The words echoed like a thunderclap in her ears, but they were followed by something far more chilling.

"Brace yourself, Your Majesty. It is not a sight you will ever forget. It is not the Erythian you once knew."

The news hit Zara like a physical blow, and for a moment, she couldn’t breathe. Erythian. Her one true love. The man she had mourned and grieved for so long, whose body had never been returned to her.

Now, they had found him, but the sight of him... was it as cruel and twisted as Lady Vaelor made it sound?

Zara couldn’t let herself linger on that thought. She had no time to wallow in grief. Not now. Not when she was so close to something bigger, something that could change everything. She couldn’t allow herself the luxury of mourning just yet.

She had to act quickly, before Alaric realized what was happening.

She stood abruptly, pacing the length of her room. Her thoughts spun wildly as her mind worked in overdrive. She needed to get to Erythian’s body. She needed to see him, to hold him one last time, even if it meant defying the man who had become her jailer.

Alaric. That monster.

Zara’s hands clenched into fists at her sides. She had to do this. She had to break free of the chains he had wrapped around her, the ones that tightened with each passing day.

The love bind spell made everything so much worse. She could feel his presence in the air around her, like a constant weight on her chest, a reminder that no matter how much she hated him, she was bound to him.

"Lady Vaelor," Zara muttered under her breath. "She’s my only chance. She has to help me."

Her pulse quickened as she heard the soft knock at her door. Without waiting for her to respond, Lady Vaelor slipped inside, her face unreadable. Zara’s heart skipped at the sight of her, but she quickly masked her emotions.

"Your Majesty," Lady Vaelor said softly, lowering her voice. "There is something you need to know." She stepped forward, pulling a small piece of parchment from the folds of her dress. Zara immediately recognized the urgency in her eyes.

"What is it?" Zara asked, her voice tight with anticipation.

"Where is he?" she asked, her voice hoarse but determined. "I need to retrieve him. Now."

Lady Vaelor’s face darkened. "It’s too dangerous, Your Majesty. You must understand, if Alaric catches wind of your plans—"

"I don’t care." Zara’s words were sharp and final. "I need to see him. I need to see Erythian. I owe him that much. Alaric can’t stop me."

Lady Vaelor’s eyes softened as though with understanding, she didn’t argue. She simply nodded. "I’ll help you. I’ll gather the guards who are loyal to the old regime. We must move quickly. The sooner you leave, the better."

Zara took a deep breath, pushing aside the flood of grief threatening to drown her. She was used to grief. She had lived with it long enough. But now, she had something to fight for. She had a purpose. Alaric had no idea what was coming. But he would soon.

I will not be his pawn any longer.

she thought to herself.

That night, Zara worked quickly in secret, gathering the resources she needed. She bribed guards, sent messages through coded letters, and set her plans into motion. Each step was calculated, precise—she couldn’t afford a single misstep. Every decision had to be perfect, or Alaric would find out, and he would crush her.

As the days passed, Zara felt the weight of Alaric’s watchful gaze on her, ever present and unyielding. He became more controlling, demanding her presence at all times, questioning her movements, her words. His suspicion grew with each passing day, and Zara felt her every action under a microscope.

But still, she pushed on.

She had to.

The palace was a maze of secrets, whispers in every corner, eyes watching her every move. But Zara refused to let fear control her. She couldn’t let Alaric dictate her life any longer. She needed to get to Erythian, to lay him to rest properly, and to make sure his memory lived on. She would fight for it, fight for herself and for her kingdom.

Alaric was growing suspicious. Zara could feel it in the way he spoke to her, in the way his eyes lingered just a moment too long. He knew something was off. But he still trusted her, at least, for now. Zara had manipulated him, seduced him—played the role of the perfect, devoted wife, all while plotting her escape. The love bind might pull her toward him, but Zara refused to let it control her.

The palace was suffocating, but she had to stay in it. For now.

One evening, Zara stood by the grand staircase, her gaze fixed on the flickering candlelight that cast long, eerie shadows across the marble floors. The flicker seemed to mimic the turmoil in her chest, the wavering hope and dread of what was to come. Every inch of the palace felt like a prison to her, and as the night deepened, she could almost taste freedom on the horizon. Her plan was ready, meticulously crafted in silence. Lady Vaelor had provided her with the means—connections, resources, and a carefully laid path. Every detail was in place. All she had to do was slip away unnoticed.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she turned, a quiet determination in her eyes. The door to the hallway was just a few steps away, a fleeting moment of escape. She could already feel the rush of air, the weight lifting from her shoulders. The thought of Erythian, of a life beyond Alaric’s reach, pulled her forward.

But just as her foot grazed the doorframe, a voice sliced through the stillness of the air, sharp and commanding.

"Where do you think you’re going?"

The coldness of Alaric’s voice froze her in place, sending a shiver of fear through her spine.

Zara froze, her heart thudding painfully in her chest. Slowly, she turned to face Alaric. His eyes were dark with suspicion, his jaw set in a grim line. His presence was overwhelming, a storm contained in human form.

"I—" Zara swallowed, trying to steady her breathing. "I was just—"

"You were just what, My queen??" Alaric stepped closer, his gaze piercing. "Trying to leave the palace? Trying to sneak off behind my back?"

Zara’s blood ran cold. The game was up. He knew.

"I wasn’t trying to leave," she lied smoothly, her voice steady despite the panic rising in her chest. "I was just walking. Alone. I—I needed some air."

Alaric wasn’t fooled. His lips twisted into a cruel smile, but there was something darker in his eyes, something far more sinister than she had ever seen.

"You think I’m a fool?" he growled. He reached out, grabbing a fistful of her hair, yanking her close. "You’ve been planning something, haven’t you? Something I should know about?."

Zara gasped, her scalp burning with the harshness of his grip. "Alaric, please—"

"No!" He shook his head, his voice low and deadly. "Don’t think you can deceive me, Lysandra. I own you. And you will learn that there is no escape."

Before Zara could react, he dragged her back toward their chambers, her feet stumbling behind him, her body pulled harshly by her hair. The sound of her heartbeat thudded in her ears, but it wasn’t fear that gripped her heart. No, it was something much darker, anger, betrayal, and something far colder than mere hatred.

In the privacy of their chambers, Alaric slammed the door shut, locking it behind him. His eyes glinted with a wicked satisfaction as he turned toward Zara, pinning her against the wall.

"Do you know what happens to those who try to escape?" His voice was low, filled with cruel promise. "They get broken."

Zara stood tall, her chin lifted, her body trembling with defiance. "I am not yours to break," she spat, even as the terror clawed at her chest.

Without warning, Alaric slammed his lips onto hers in a forceful kiss, dominating her with the raw power of his need. His hands were everywhere, rough, possessive, and desperate.

Zara fought against him, but her body betrayed her. The love bind pulled her closer, but her resolve remained.

"You will never be free of me," Alaric whispered, his voice dark and full of malice. "You belong to me. And I will remind you of that every day until you learn your place."

Zara could feel the tears welling in her eyes as she struggled against him, but they weren’t tears of submission.

No, they were tears of rage, of frustration, and of the hopelessness she couldn’t shake.