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Dark AcademiaRomance

Chapter 3 of 32

The Prince's Cage

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"Get in."

I didn't move. Just stood there on the sidewalk outside the clinic, staring at the black SUV like it might eat me alive.

Dorian was already at the door, one hand on the handle. Waiting.

"I'm not going."

He turned his head. Slow. Like he had all the time in the world and I had none.

"You are."

"You can't just—" My hand went to my stomach. Thirteen weeks. There was a person in there. Half me, half him. Half human, half something that shouldn't exist. "You can't make me."

His eyes dropped to where my hand was. Then back up.

"The blood bond already did."

I hated how calm he sounded. Like I was a problem he'd already solved.

"I have a life. I have a job. I have an apartment."

"You have a lease Edwin paid off this morning." He opened the car door. "Your supervisor received notice you're taking medical leave. Your things will be packed and delivered by tonight. Get in, Iris."

My throat closed.

He'd already erased me.

"I didn't agree to any of this."

"You triggered a blood ritual in my family's crypt. You bound yourself to me. You conceived an heir to the Night Court." His voice dropped. Still even, but colder. "Agreement stopped mattering three months ago."

I wanted to scream. I wanted to run. But Edwin's words were still in my head. *The bond will kill you both if you try to sever it.*

I got in the car.

Dorian slid in beside me. The door shut with a heavy click that sounded too much like a lock. The driver didn't look back. Didn't speak. We pulled into traffic and I watched my neighborhood blur past the tinted glass.

The café where I got morning coffee. The bookstore that stayed open late. The park where I used to sketch.

Gone.

"How long."

Dorian was looking at his phone. He didn't glance up.

"How long what."

"How long do I have to stay in your palace."

He typed something. Sent it. Then finally looked at me.

"Five years."

I laughed. I couldn't help it. It came out sharp and broken.

"Five years."

"Standard contract for royal consorts bearing heirs. You'll deliver at Thornveil. You'll remain in residence until the child is weaned and assessed by the Court physicians." He said it like he was reading a grocery list. "Then we'll revisit terms."

Consort. Like I was some kind of medieval concubine.

"What if I say no."

"You won't."

"You don't know that."

He leaned back, eyes still on me. There was something too still about the way he looked at people. Like a predator deciding whether you were prey or just boring.

"You're carrying my child. Royal law is absolute. If you run, I'll find you. If you fight, you'll lose. If you harm the bond or the child, you'll die." He tilted his head. "So no, Iris. You won't say no."

I turned toward the window and tried not to cry.

We drove for an hour. The city gave way to forest, thick and dark even in late afternoon. The road got narrower. Private. No signs, no other cars. Just trees and shadows and the hum of the engine.

Then the road curved and I saw it.

Thornveil Court.

It wasn't a palace. It was a fortress. Black stone walls rising out of the hillside like something that had grown there instead of being built. Towers with narrow windows. Iron gates that looked like they could hold back an army.

Everything about it screamed *you don't belong here.*

The gates opened as we approached. No guard, no checkpoint. Just smooth, silent movement like the place recognized him.

We pulled into a courtyard paved in dark slate. Torches burning in sconces even though it wasn't night yet. The air smelled like rain and stone and something else.

Magic, maybe. Or blood.

Dorian got out first. I stayed in the car, staring up at the walls.

"This isn't protection," I said. "This is a cage."

He leaned down, one hand on the open door.

"Call it what you want. You're staying."

I climbed out because I didn't have a choice. My legs felt shaky. I pressed one hand to my stomach again, like I could shield the baby from all this.

A servant appeared from a side door. Young, pale, human. She bowed.

"This way, my lady."

My lady. I wasn't anyone's lady. I was a fucking art restorer who'd made one mistake and lost her entire life.

But I followed.

The inside was worse. Vaulted ceilings that swallowed sound. Tapestries on the walls showing battles I didn't recognize. Candelabras dripping wax onto stone floors that looked like they'd been walked on for centuries.

Everything was cold and beautiful and so far from human it made my skin crawl.

Dorian walked ahead of me, his coat swirling as he moved. He didn't look back to see if I was keeping up.

We passed a hallway lined with portraits. Pale faces, dark eyes, elegant clothes from every century. His family, probably. Every single one of them looked like they could kill you and not lose sleep.

Then I saw movement at the end of the hall.

Someone was coming toward us. Fast.

Dorian stopped. His posture changed. Tighter. Ready.

"Stay behind me."

I didn't argue.

A man rounded the corner. Tall, built like a soldier, with scars running down one side of his face. His eyes locked on me and his lips pulled back.

Fangs.

"That's her?" His voice was a growl. "That's the human carrying your bastard?"

Dorian stepped in front of me. Completely. I couldn't see past his shoulders.

"Careful, Marcus."

"She doesn't belong here. She's polluting the bloodline. The Council—"

"The Council will accept my heir or they'll answer to me."

Marcus took another step forward. The air shifted. Colder. Heavier. My pulse spiked and I realized with a sick lurch that I could feel Dorian's heartbeat.

Faster now. Angry.

The bond.

"She's not one of us," Marcus said. "She's food. She's—"

Dorian moved.

I didn't see it happen. One second he was standing in front of me, the next his hand was at Marcus's throat, claws out, black and sharp and pressed against skin.

Marcus froze.

But Dorian's other hand—

His other hand was behind him. Palm flat against my stomach. Shielding.

I couldn't breathe.

"She's under my protection," Dorian said softly. "She carries my child. If you threaten her again, I'll remove your tongue and feed it to the hounds. Do you understand me."

Marcus's eyes flicked to me. Hatred. Pure, burning hatred.

But he nodded.

Dorian let him go and stepped back. His hand dropped from my stomach but I could still feel the heat of it. The weight.

Marcus backed away, then turned and disappeared down the hall.

I was shaking.

Dorian glanced at me. His claws retracted slowly, sliding back under his nails like they'd never been there.

"You'll have enemies here," he said. "Stay close to your assigned rooms. Don't wander. Don't trust anyone."

"Except you?"

The words came out bitter.

He looked at me for a long moment.

"No," he said finally. "Not even me."

Then he turned and kept walking.

I followed because I didn't know what else to do.

We climbed a staircase that seemed to go on forever. My calves burned. My head was spinning. I wanted to sit down. I wanted to go home.

I wanted to wake up and find out the last three months were just a nightmare.

Finally we stopped in front of a heavy wooden door. Dorian pushed it open.

"Your room."

I stepped inside.

It was huge. Four-poster bed with dark curtains. A fireplace already burning. Tall windows overlooking the forest. Furniture that looked like it cost more than my entire apartment.

A cage with silk sheets.

"Someone will bring your things tonight. Meals are delivered. Edwin will visit tomorrow to check on you and the child." He paused in the doorway. "Don't try to leave, Iris. The wards won't let you."

Then he was gone.

I stood there in the middle of that beautiful, suffocating room and tried not to scream.

I don't know how long I stood there. Long enough for the light outside to start fading. Long enough for my feet to ache and my eyes to burn.

Then I heard footsteps in the hall.

I turned.

A woman stepped into the doorway.

She was stunning. Silver-blonde hair pulled back in a perfect twist. Pale skin, sharp cheekbones, ice-blue eyes. She wore a gown that looked like it cost more than I'd make in a year, deep crimson with black embroidery.

She looked at me like I was a stain on her carpet.

Then she smiled.

"So," she said, "you're the little mistake."

My stomach dropped.

"I'm sorry?"

"Don't be. It's not your fault you don't know how things work here." She stepped into the room, heels clicking on stone. Her smile didn't reach her eyes. "I'm Seraphine Voss. Dorian's intended. His equal. His future queen."

She stopped a few feet away, looking me up and down. Taking in my jeans, my wrinkled shirt, my unbrushed hair.

"And you," she said softly, "are the human broodmare who'll warm his bed until you deliver. Then you'll disappear."

I opened my mouth but nothing came out.

Seraphine tilted her head, studying me like I was an insect.

"Did he tell you about me?"

"No."

"Of course not." She laughed. It sounded like glass breaking. "He wouldn't. That would complicate things. Make you feel like the other woman." She stepped closer. Close enough that I could smell her perfume. Something cold and floral. "But you are, darling. You're the accident. I'm the plan."

"I didn't ask for this."

"None of us did." Her eyes went to my stomach. Something flickered across her face. Rage, maybe. Or pain. "But here we are. You, carrying his bastard. Me, waiting for him to remember who he's actually bound to."

She reached out. Fast. Her hand closed around my wrist before I could pull away.

Her skin was cold. Ice cold.

"Let me make something very clear," she said. Her voice dropped, still sweet but with something sharp underneath. "You don't belong here. You're human. Fragile. Temporary. The only reason you're still breathing is because of what's inside you." Her grip tightened. "So stay in your room. Stay quiet. And when this is over, go back to whatever little life you crawled out of. Because if you try to keep him—"

She leaned in. Her breath was cold against my ear.

"I'll make sure you regret it."

Then she let go and stepped back, her smile returning like nothing had happened.

"Welcome to Thornveil, Iris."

She turned and walked out, her gown trailing behind her like blood.

I stood there, shaking, staring at the empty doorway.

My wrist throbbed where she'd grabbed me. I looked down.

There were marks. Pale. Almost like frostbite.

And I realized something that made my blood run cold.

Dorian had enemies here.

But I had something worse.

I had

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