Chapter-118. Unshackled pawn

I froze.

Not because of fear. Not because of pain.

But because my mind refused to process what I had just heard.

Betrothed mate bond.

A bond decided before I even existed.

My heartbeat thundered in my ears, drowning out the world. The ground beneath my feet felt unreal, as if I were standing on the edge of something vast and bottomless.

Slowly, I lifted my head and looked straight at the Celestial Prince.

“…What did you just say?”

My voice sounded hollow, stripped of warmth and disbelief alike.

The prince did not avert his gaze. Beneath his silver mask, something tense flickered—hesitation, perhaps even guilt. That alone made my chest tighten.

“Say it again,” I demanded quietly. “Every word.”

He took a measured breath.

“Your mother bound your soul to mine,” he said. “A betrothed mate bond. An ancient celestial contract. Not a completed mate bond—but one powerful enough to shape fate.”

The air left my lungs in a sharp, humorless laugh.

“How poetic,” I muttered. “She planned my life before I ever drew breath.”

My hands trembled at my sides.

“So that’s it?” I continued, my voice rising despite myself. “I was never meant to choose. Not my suffering. Not my path. Not even who I belong to.”

The prince stepped forward instinctively, then stopped, as if realizing how dangerous that would be.

“It was meant as protection,” he said carefully. “The bond ensured the Celestials would never reject you. With me by your side, no realm could claim you as an enemy.”

I snapped my gaze to him.

“Protection?” I echoed. “You call condemning me to Hell protection?”

Silence stretched between us, heavy and suffocating.

Behind me, Asher lay unmoving in my arms—his weight the only thing anchoring me to reality. I tightened my grip slightly, grounding myself in his presence.

“My entire life,” I said slowly, each word cutting deeper than the last, “has been a carefully written tragedy. Every pain justified. Every betrayal excused. All in the name of some grand design I never agreed to.”

The prince lowered his voice.

“You were never meant to be broken, Xanthea.”

I laughed again—this time sharper, almost feral.

“And yet here I am.”

I lifted my chin, fury blazing through the tears threatening to spill.

“Tell me, Crown Prince,” I said coldly, “does that bond still exist… even after Hell, demons, blood, and madness?”

His answer came without hesitation.

“Yes.”

Something inside me snapped—not shattered, not collapsed—but hardened.

“Then listen carefully,” I said. “Whatever my mother planned, whatever fate thinks it owns—I will decide how this story ends.”

I looked down at Asher, at the demon prince who had suffered beside me, bled beside me, fallen for me without destiny forcing his hand.

“And no bond,” I whispered, “will take that away from me.”