Betrayed at The Alter

Smith.

The cathedral bells rang across the kingdom—

deep… heavy… final.

Each toll vibrated through the marble pillars and stained‑glass windows, shaking the silence sitting heavy in my chest. Outside, golden banners rippled in the wind as if the entire kingdom was celebrating. To everyone else, this day sparkled with promise.

To me, it felt like a funeral.

Rose petals covered the aisle—soft under noble feet, but sharp as thorns under mine. Every stare in the grand cathedral pinned me in place. The prince. The heir. The sacrifice. The one expected to “secure peace” by marrying a woman I did not love.

Royal silk wrapped around my body like armor I never asked for.

The crown sat on my head like iron chains.

And my heart… my heart felt trapped in a cage made by people who claimed to love me.

This was not love.

It wasn’t even duty.

This was control—carefully arranged, deliberately tightened.

The heavy cathedral doors groaned open.

Light spilled in, and Princess Helena stepped inside. Perfect posture. Perfect hair. Perfect smile crafted by years of knowing she would one day become queen. Her golden gown glittered like stars trapped in fabric. The crowd gasped, soaking her in admiration.

But nothing inside me shifted.

No spark.

No warmth.

Just dread twisting deeper and deeper.

My father’s old warning echoed in my skull:

“Smith, love is weakness. A ruler sacrifices his heart.”

He had sacrificed mine long before I even knew what love truly was.

Helena reached the altar, standing beside me with a smile that didn’t touch her eyes. The priest lifted his book, his voice echoing through the cathedral.

“Do you, Prince Smith—”

“I can’t.”

The words slipped out before I even tasted them.

They sliced through the air like a blade.

Silence crashed down.

Helena’s smile froze.

My father’s jaw hardened into stone.

“What did you say, Smith?” Helena whispered, her voice trembling with disbelief and fury beneath the surface.

I lifted my chin, feeling thousands of eyes burn into me.

“My heart belongs to someone else,” I said.

The hall erupted into gasps—sharp, scandalized, horrified.

I breathed once. Steady. Sure.

“I choose her.”

Time stopped. Even the sun filtering through the stained glass seemed to halt.

“Smith!” my father thundered, rising from his throne. “Enough!”

But for the first time in my life, I didn’t bow. I didn’t break. I didn’t swallow my truth.

“I love Elara,” I continued. “And I choose her. Not this. Not you. Not your throne.”

Helena’s hand flew across my face—

CRACK.

The slap echoed like a whip.

“You will regret this,” she hissed, eyes burning.

“Seize him!” my father roared.

Guards lunged forward. Steel flashed. Chaos exploded in an instant.

And I ran.

Through the crowd. Past marble pillars. Out the cathedral doors—

into the blinding sunlight and pure panic.

And there she was.

Elara.

Standing by the palace gates, dark hair whipping wildly in the wind. Her simple gown clung to her legs, her eyes glowing with fear and hope all at once. She looked so out of place among the jewels and gold—but so right to me.

“Smith?” she breathed when she saw me sprinting toward her.

I grabbed her hand. “We have to go. Now.”

We tore through the gardens. Horns blared behind us. Guards spilled out like angry shadows, boots pounding the paths. The palace hounds growled from their kennels, their chains rattling.

Elara stumbled on a loose stone. I caught her, her body pressing against mine—warm, trembling, real.

“Don’t leave me,” she whispered.

“Never,” I said. “Stay with me. Please.”

That was when I saw it—the pendant around her neck.

A small silver charm shaped like a falling star. It glowed faintly, pulsing… like a heartbeat.

“Elara… what is that?”

“I—I don’t know,” she whispered. “It was my mother’s. But tonight… it feels alive.”

Before I could respond, the hounds’ howls ripped through the air.

We ducked beneath a fallen pine, crouching close. When our hands touched, the pendant glowed brighter—like it recognized me.

“We’ll survive this,” I whispered.

Her eyes searched mine. “Do you really mean that?”

“I do.”

Her lips brushed my shoulder—soft, accidental—and fire shot through me.

A hound lunged. I grabbed a broken branch and swung with everything I had. The beast yelped and retreated, but more shadows closed in.

“They’re close!” a guard shouted.

We sprinted across the abandoned courtyard toward the old tower—dusty, cracked, forgotten. Shadows swallowed us as we slipped inside.

“You shouldn’t have chosen me,” Elara whispered. “You gave up everything.”

“You are everything,” I said, lifting her chin with my fingers.

Her breath hitched. “Do you… think I’m cursed?”

The pendant pulsed again—stronger, hotter.

Before I could answer, boots thundered outside.

“There’s only one way out,” I murmured.

Her eyes widened. “Smith—”

I pulled her tightly against me.

“Jump with me.”

We leaped.

The river swallowed us—icy, violent, ruthless.

Underwater, her lips brushed mine—accidental—but electric enough to shake my bones.

We surfaced, gasping for air. Elara coughed, then gave a weak smile. “We survived.”

“For now,” I breathed.

We crawled onto the muddy bank, soaked and trembling. Ahead, the northern forest loomed—dark, ancient, unpredictable.

“We need Rowan,” I said. “He’ll hide us.”

Elara touched the pendant again. The glow dimmed… then brightened… then flickered weakly.

“Smith,” she whispered, voice cracking. “Will you still choose me after tonight?”

I pressed my forehead to hers.

“I choose you in every life.”

Hand in hand, we stepped into the forest’s shadow.

The wind hissed through the towering pines. Branches creaked like old bones. A strange chill swept through the air, wrapping around us like a warning.

Elara’s grip tightened—then loosened suddenly.

Her breath hitched.

Her steps faltered.

Her body swayed.

“Smith… wait…”

I turned instantly.

Her eyes fluttered, drowning in something unseen. The pendant blazed—too bright, too hot, like molten silver.

“Elara?” I whispered, fear slicing through me.

“Something’s wrong…” she breathed.

Her knees buckled.

“ELARA!”

I caught her before she hit the ground, but her body sagged in my arms—heavy, lifeless, terrifying.

“Elara, look at me. Stay with me. Please.”

Her fingers twitched weakly. Her lips parted, trying to speak my name, but no sound came out.

Then—

Her body went still.

Limp.

Cold.

Terrifyingly still.

The pendant flared once—blinding white

then died.

“Elara?” My voice cracked. “Elara, please… stay with me. Elara!”

No answer.

Not even a whisper of breath.

Panic crushed my chest.

Something was happening to her.

Something ancient… dangerous… beyond anything I could fight.

And then I heard it—

A whisper rolling through the trees, cold and ancient:

“The chosen star has awakened.”

I froze.

Because that whisper…

didn’t come from a human throat.

And in that moment, I realized—

This was only the beginning.

‎

‎

‎

Smith.

Elara collapsed before I could even understand the strange words she whispered.

One second she was standing beside me—breathing fast, eyes wide, fingers trembling. The next, her knees buckled, and she fell straight into my arms as if all the strength had been pulled from her body. Her hair brushed my jaw—cold, soft, almost weightless. Her shallow, hurried breaths tickled my neck, fragile as the flutter of a dying bird’s wings.

“Elara—hey, look at me.”

I cupped her face gently, panic coiling in my chest.

“Stay with me. Don’t slip away now.”

Her eyelids twitched like she was fighting sleep—or something darker. The pendant on her neck flickered. At first, a soft, weak pulse like a dying spark. Then stronger. Again. And again. A silver heartbeat, alive and insistent, thrumming beneath my fingers. Not natural. Not human.

Every flicker sent warmth racing into my hands, traveling up my arms like it was trying to