Chapter 3 - The Cage of a King

Selene’s mind raced as she yanked at the golden cuff around her wrist. Her breathing was fast, erratic, her chest rising and falling as she struggled against the delicate-looking chain that held her captive. But despite its thin appearance, it was unyielding, as if woven from something stronger than mere metal.

This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real.

And yet, every sensation—the warmth of the sheets beneath her, the scent of burning incense lingering in the air, and most of all, the piercing silver gaze of the man before her—felt terrifyingly real.

Valerian Draven, the ruthless king, the dead king, stood only inches away, watching her with an unreadable expression.

Selene forced herself to breathe. Think. Find a way out.

Her voice trembled as she spoke. "This is a mistake. I don’t belong here. I need to go back."

Valerian tilted his head slightly, as if considering her words. His silver eyes gleamed with something dark, something almost… amused. "Go back?" he repeated, his voice smooth, patient. "And where would that be, my love?"

Selene’s throat tightened.

"My world," she whispered, gripping the silk sheets beneath her fingers. "My time. I— I don’t know how I got here, but I don’t belong in this place. I don’t belong to you."

Something in Valerian’s expression shifted.

For a moment, silence stretched between them.

Then, he sighed—a slow, measured sound, as if she were testing his patience. "You speak as though this is the first time we have stood like this. As though I have not heard these same words fall from your lips before."

Her stomach twisted. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Valerian reached for something beside the bed. Selene flinched, her body tensing in anticipation of an attack.

But he didn’t strike her.

Instead, he lifted something into her view—a golden locket, old, its surface slightly worn.

Selene frowned, confusion flickering across her face. "What is that?"

His fingers brushed over the locket with reverence, before he extended it toward her. "Open it."

Her instincts screamed not to trust him, but her curiosity won out.

With shaky hands, she took the locket and pried it open.

Her breath caught.

Inside was a tiny painting—of her.

It wasn’t a perfect match—her hair was styled differently, her dress was old-fashioned—but the face staring back at her was unmistakably her own.

Selene’s entire body went cold.

She snapped the locket shut, throwing it away from her. "No. No, that’s not possible."

Valerian sighed again, as if her resistance truly exhausted him. "You do not believe me. You never do, at first."

Selene shook her head violently. "You’re lying. That’s just a coincidence. That’s not me!"

A slow, predatory smile curled on Valerian’s lips. "Then tell me, Selene," he murmured, stepping forward until he was towering over her, "why do you remember my name?"

Her breath hitched.

Her mind reeled.

She had known his name before he introduced himself.

Her throat went dry. No. That— that had to be a mistake.

Valerian leaned down, caging her between his arms, his voice dropping to a whisper. "There is a reason your soul has found its way back to me. Over and over again, no matter how many lifetimes pass, you always return."

Selene’s heart hammered. "That’s not true," she choked out.

He smiled—a slow, knowing smirk that sent a shiver down her spine.

"It is. And this time," he whispered, "I will not let you slip away."

She tried to push him away, but he grabbed her wrist, his grip firm yet careful. His thumb brushed over her pulse, feeling the rapid beat beneath her skin.

"You always fight me at first," he murmured. "But fate has already decided."

Selene trembled. "You can’t keep me here," she whispered. "I will find a way back."

Valerian’s silver eyes darkened, his grip tightening ever so slightly.

"You can try, little one," he murmured, his voice like velvet and steel. "But I will always bring you back to me."

Her stomach twisted. She believed him.

And for the first time since waking in this strange world, Selene felt a terror deeper than anything she had ever known.

Because if this was true—if she really had been here before—then escaping King Valerian Draven was impossible.

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