Bound by Duty, Torn by Desire

The night sky stretched endlessly above the royal palace, stars twinkling like distant promises that seemed out of reach. Thomas lay in his quarters, staring at the ceiling, his mind churning with anger, confusion, and sorrow. His body felt like it had been through a war, though he hadn't lifted a sword in days. The weight of the wedding ring on his finger burned, a constant reminder of the prison he now lived in—a marriage to a man he despised.

He had avoided Alexander since the ceremony, retreating to his chambers as soon as the opportunity presented itself. He had no desire to face the king or pretend to play the role of a devoted husband. This wasn’t a marriage; it was a farce. A twisted joke that fate had played on him.

The door to his room creaked open, and Thomas’s body stiffened as he sat up quickly, his hand instinctively reaching for the dagger he kept by the bed. His heart pounded as he watched the figure step into the room, the flickering candlelight illuminating Alexander’s cold features.

“What do you want?” Thomas’s voice was sharp, laced with bitterness.

Alexander closed the door behind him, his movements slow, deliberate. His presence seemed to fill the room, as if he had brought the very tension that hung between them. He didn’t answer right away, his blue eyes studying Thomas with a look that made the knight feel both exposed and defiant.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Alexander finally said, his voice low and commanding.

Thomas scoffed, rising to his feet. “What did you expect? That I’d come running into your arms after the ceremony?”

The king’s gaze darkened, but he didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, he took a step closer, his eyes never leaving Thomas’s. “This is our reality now, Thomas. Whether you like it or not, we are bound to each other.”

“Bound by a promise I never wanted to make,” Thomas snapped, taking a step back. “Julie’s gone. She’s the only reason I agreed to this madness.”

A flicker of something—pain, perhaps—crossed Alexander’s face at the mention of Julie’s name. It was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by the familiar cold mask that the king wore so well.

“You think I don’t know that?” Alexander’s voice was calm, but there was an edge to it. “I know you hate me, Thomas. I’ve known it for years. But this… this is bigger than either of us.”

Thomas felt his anger flare again. “Bigger? This is about control, Alexander. You’ve always wanted to control everything—your kingdom, your people, even your wife. Now, you want to control me.”

The king’s jaw clenched, his eyes flashing with a dangerous intensity. “I don’t need to control you, Thomas. You’ve always been bound by duty. You will do what’s right, no matter how much you hate it.”

Thomas’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. Alexander wasn’t wrong. Duty had always driven him. It was why he had agreed to this cursed marriage in the first place—because he had made a promise to his dying sister, and no matter how much he loathed the king, he couldn’t break that promise.

“I don’t care about duty anymore,” Thomas growled, his voice thick with frustration. “I can’t live like this, pretending to be your husband.”

Alexander took another step closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “No one said you had to pretend.”

Thomas’s breath caught in his throat, and he took another step back, only to feel the edge of the bed against the back of his legs. There was something in the way Alexander was looking at him, something dark and intense that made his skin prickle with a mix of fear and something else—something he didn’t want to acknowledge.

“You can hate me all you want, Thomas,” Alexander continued, his voice low and steady. “But that doesn’t change what we are now. You’re mine. And I won’t let you run from it.”

The words sent a shiver down Thomas’s spine, but he forced himself to hold his ground. “I will never be yours.”

The king’s lips curved into a cold smile as he closed the distance between them. “We’ll see.”

Before Thomas could react, Alexander reached out and grabbed his wrist, pulling him close with a force that took the knight by surprise. Thomas’s breath hitched as his chest collided with the king’s, his heart racing as he felt the strength of Alexander’s grip.

There was a moment—brief but undeniable—where something shifted between them. The air seemed to crackle with tension, the space between their bodies disappearing as Alexander’s gaze locked with Thomas’s, intense and unyielding.

Thomas’s mind screamed at him to push the king away, to break free from the closeness that was suffocating him. But his body betrayed him, frozen in place as the weight of Alexander’s presence pressed against him.

“You can fight this all you want,” Alexander murmured, his breath warm against Thomas’s skin. “But it won’t change what we are now. You can’t escape it.”

Thomas swallowed hard, his pulse quickening as he stared into the king’s eyes, feeling something stir deep inside him—a mixture of fury, desire, and fear.

“I don’t want this,” Thomas whispered, though his voice lacked the conviction he wished it had.

Alexander’s grip on his wrist tightened, and he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against Thomas’s ear as he whispered, “Maybe not. But you’ll learn to.”

The words sent a shock of heat through Thomas’s body, and he jerked back, breaking free from Alexander’s hold. His heart pounded in his chest as he took a step away, his hands trembling with a mix of rage and something else he couldn’t quite name.

“You’re wrong,” Thomas said, his voice low but firm. “I’ll never be yours, Alexander. Not in the way you want.”

Alexander’s eyes darkened, but he didn’t move to close the distance again. Instead, he watched Thomas with an intensity that made the knight’s skin prickle with unease.

“We’ll see,” the king repeated, his voice a quiet promise.

Without another word, Alexander turned and left the room, leaving Thomas standing there, his heart racing, his mind a whirlwind of confusion and anger.

As the door closed behind the king, Thomas collapsed onto the bed, his body shaking as he tried to process what had just happened. He hated Alexander—he had always hated him. But there was something in the king’s touch, something in his gaze, that made Thomas feel things he didn’t want to feel.

The chains of duty had bound him to this man, but Thomas couldn’t shake the growing fear that there was something more pulling him toward Alexander—something he couldn’t fight, no matter how much he wanted to.

And deep down, that terrified him more than anything.

To Be Continued...

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