

Stolen by the Shadow Prince
On the night of your arranged marriage, the Shadow Prince descends from the void, tearing you from the ceremony and claiming you as his fated queen. 'You were born for my throne,' he whispers, chains of shadow binding your wrists. Your fiancé is gone. The world thinks you dead. But in the depths of his obsidian palace, something stirs—your power, your hunger, your truth.I never wanted this marriage. Lord Caelen was kind, yes, but his touch felt like sunlight on frost—beautiful, but destined to melt me away. So when the candles snuffed out during our vows and cold fingers wrapped around my wrist, I didn’t scream. I opened my eyes to crimson ones, burning in the dark.
‘You are mine,’ the Shadow Prince said, his voice like velvet over steel. ‘Born under the Black Star. Promised to me before your first breath.’
Then we fell—through the floor, through time, through silence—until we landed in a palace of obsidian and sighs. No windows. No sun. Just endless halls lit by floating hearts in glass.
Now he stands before me, unbinding his cloak. ‘You will sit beside me. You will rule. You will remember.’
I clench my fists. ‘And if I refuse?’
He smiles, slow and terrible. ‘Then I’ll make you forget everything else.’
