Prologue:

The night air was thick with the scent of burning parchment and spilled wine. In the heart of the royal palace, beneath the towering stained-glass windows depicting long-dead heroes, a thief stood before the empire’s most feared general with a smirk that could start wars.

“You look angry,” the thief purred, twirling a golden dagger between their fingers. “Missed me?”

Across the grand hall, General Lucian Vale did not move, though the shadows of the flickering torches carved sharp lines into his cold, unreadable expression. His gloved hand rested lightly on the hilt of his sword, but his patience was far thinner than his composure.

“You stole from the empire,” Lucian said, voice like tempered steel. “And you think this is amusing?”

The thief, known to some as Raven, to others as an absolute menace, tilted their head. “In my defense, I didn’t think I’d get caught.”

Lucian exhaled slowly, the only sign of his growing frustration. “And yet, here you are.”

“Here I am,” Raven agreed cheerfully, as if this weren’t a situation that could end with their head on a spike. “Which means either I’m very unlucky or you’ve been waiting for this moment.” Their grin widened. “You have been waiting for me, haven’t you?”

Lucian’s grip tightened around his sword. He was not a man who indulged in petty games. But gods help him, there was something about this thief that made restraint feel like an impossible thing.

“I should have you executed,” Lucian stated matter-of-factly. “Save the empire the trouble of dealing with you again.”

Raven gave a dramatic sigh, placing a hand over their heart. “So cruel. And after all the fun we’ve had?” They took a step closer, knowing full well they were testing their luck. “I think you’d miss me.”

Lucian’s glare remained impassive, but there was a flicker of something beneath it—annoyance, intrigue, maybe something more dangerous. “You mistake patience for leniency,” he said coldly.

Before Raven could craft a witty reply, the air shifted. A heavy pressure settled in the room, and the torches lining the walls flickered wildly. The golden dagger in Raven’s hand suddenly felt too warm, and an unsettling energy crawled up their spine. The relic.

And then the pain struck.

It was sharp and searing, burning through their veins like molten fire. Raven stumbled, gripping their wrist where an intricate mark—glowing gold and crimson—began to carve itself into their skin. Across the room, Lucian’s reaction was identical. He hissed as the same mark seared its way onto his forearm, binding them with an ancient, merciless magic.

A bond. A curse. A fate neither of them had chosen.

Raven groaned. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

Lucian lifted his gaze, his eyes dark and dangerous. “Tell me what you did.”

“For once,” Raven muttered, looking at the glowing brand with growing horror, “I actually have no idea.”

The magic pulsed again, tightening around them like an invisible chain. Raven could feel it now—a pull, an undeniable connection thrumming between them. They took an instinctive step back, and a sharp jolt of pain sent them reeling forward again.

Lucian, ever composed, tested it as well. He took a slow, measured step in the opposite direction. The magic snapped tight, yanking Raven forward so forcefully that they nearly crashed into him. Only his quick reflexes stopped them, a strong arm grasping theirs before they collided.

“Well,” Raven breathed, a little breathless. “This is awkward.”

Lucian released them instantly, jaw tight. “This bond must be broken.”

Raven rubbed their wrist, wincing as the mark pulsed again. “Agreed. Not really my style, being tied to someone else.”

Lucian’s expression darkened. “Then let’s hope we find a way to undo it before it’s too late.”

Raven raised an eyebrow. “Too late for what?”

Lucian hesitated. “This is no ordinary bond. If it is what I suspect… it will change everything.”

A slow chill crept over Raven’s spine, but they covered it with another smirk. “Oh, great. More cryptic warnings. You generals do love your dramatic statements.”

Lucian ignored the comment, already moving toward the door. “Come. We need answers.”

Raven sighed, throwing one last glance at the golden dagger still clutched in their hand. Whatever had happened, whatever magic had been awakened, they had no choice now.

Because for better or worse, they were bound together.

And judging by the fire in Lucian’s glare, he liked it even less than they did.

The torches along the corridor flickered as they walked in tense silence. Raven felt the weight of the bond pressing against them, a constant presence neither could ignore.

“You walk too fast,” Raven muttered, breaking the silence.

Lucian didn’t glance at them. “You fall behind too easily.”

“I prefer to call it pacing myself.” Raven grinned, but Lucian was unimpressed.

They reached the palace’s underground archives, where the empire’s most dangerous and ancient records were kept. A locked door stood before them, inscribed with runes that glowed faintly. Lucian pressed a hand against it, murmuring something under his breath. The runes flared before fading, and the door creaked open.

Inside, rows upon rows of ancient tomes lined the walls. Dust floated in the dim candlelight, and the scent of old parchment filled the air.

Lucian immediately moved toward a specific section, pulling down a heavy, leather-bound book. Raven watched with curiosity as he flipped through the pages with practiced ease.

After a moment, Lucian stopped and read aloud, “The Binding of Souls… an unbreakable magical tether formed by the relics of old. Once sealed, the fates of the bound are entwined forever.”

Raven stiffened. “Forever?”

Lucian’s fingers tightened around the book. “There has to be a way to undo it.”

Raven let out a slow breath. “Well, General, looks like you’re stuck with me.”

Lucian closed the book with a snap. “Don’t remind me.”

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