The days seemed to stretch endlessly for Hazel, each one heavier than the last. She had no choice but to prepare for the inevitable—her first meeting with Prince Azrael, the man whispered about in every corner of the kingdom, feared by some and revered by others. He was no longer a mere legend in her mind, but a very real force that was about to enter her life. The thought of it twisted her stomach into knots, but there was no escape from it. She had been born into a cage, and now, that cage was slowly beginning to tighten.
The palace, though grand and full of splendor, had started to feel more like a prison. Hazel had been trained, groomed, and prepared for this moment for years, but none of the lessons in etiquette or royal decorum could have prepared her for what was to come. Every mirror she passed in the hallway seemed to reflect a girl who was no longer just a princess but a pawn in a game much bigger than herself.
Her first meeting with Azrael was set for the evening, just after dusk. She was instructed to wear her finest gown—emerald silk with delicate golden embroidery that shimmered faintly in the low light of the palace halls. But no matter how beautiful the dress, how much it accentuated her form, it did little to calm the storm churning inside her. She felt as though every moment of her life had led to this one, and the weight of her destiny hung like a dark cloud above her head.
When the time arrived, she was led through the grand corridors by a servant, the silence heavy with anticipation. Hazel's heart thudded in her chest as they approached the private wing where Prince Azrael awaited her. The servant knocked on the door, and at the sound, her heart skipped a beat. The moment had arrived.
The door opened, revealing a grand, dimly lit room. It was unlike any room she had ever seen in the palace—darker, more intimate. The walls were adorned with rich tapestries depicting scenes of battles and shadows, the flickering candlelight casting an eerie glow. And there, standing in the center of the room, was Azrael.
For a moment, Hazel froze.
Azrael was everything she had heard about and more. Tall and imposing, he stood in stark contrast to the gentle, polite princes she had been raised to expect. His gaze was intense, like molten lava, burning through her with an unsettling familiarity. His dark hair fell in loose waves around his face, and his clothing—a deep crimson and black ensemble—clung to his powerful frame, accentuating his muscular build. It was clear he was a man who was not only accustomed to power but commanded it effortlessly.
His eyes met hers, and Hazel felt her breath catch in her throat. There was something otherworldly about him, a presence so heavy that it seemed to fill the entire room. His expression, though composed, was unreadable, and yet, she couldn't help but feel as though he was studying her with an intensity that both terrified and fascinated her.
"Princess Hazel," Azrael's voice was deep, smooth, and low. It seemed to vibrate through her very bones, like a dark melody she couldn't escape from. "It is an honor to finally meet you."
Hazel managed to collect herself and curtsy, her movements stiff and formal. "The honor is mine, Your Highness," she replied, her voice betraying none of the uncertainty she felt.
Azrael studied her for a long moment, his eyes narrowing slightly, as though weighing her every word, every breath. "I've heard much about you, Princess," he said, his lips curling into a faint, almost imperceptible smile. "But I must admit, I am intrigued. The rumors say you are a woman of great strength, despite the cage you've been kept in. I wonder if they are true."
The words hit her harder than she expected. They stung, as if they were meant to poke at the raw vulnerability she had spent years concealing. She lifted her chin, meeting his gaze. "Rumors often say much about people they've never met," she said, her voice firmer than she had intended.
Azrael's smile widened, though it remained cold, distant. "You are not what I expected," he mused, taking a slow step toward her. His presence seemed to darken the room even further. "You are more... alive than I imagined. More defiant."
Hazel's heart beat faster as he closed the space between them, though she remained perfectly still. He was dangerous—she knew that instinctively—but there was something compelling about him, something that tugged at her very soul, something dark and intoxicating.
Azrael stopped just a few feet away from her, his eyes never leaving hers. The air between them was thick with tension, and for the first time in her life, Hazel felt a strange pull—an undeniable magnetism that she couldn't explain. She tried to shake off the feeling, to remind herself of who she was and the role she had to play. She was a princess, and this man was nothing more than a pawn in the twisted game of fate.
But when Azrael reached out, his fingers brushing against her cheek with a touch so light, it felt as though he was leaving a brand of fire in his wake. Hazel's breath caught in her throat, her body freezing at the contact.
"I see the fear in your eyes, Princess," Azrael whispered, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down her spine. "But it is not fear of me that you feel, is it?"
Hazel opened her mouth to speak, but her voice faltered. There was something about him that unnerved her, something deep within her that responded to his presence in a way she couldn't control.
Azrael tilted his head slightly, as if reading her thoughts, before withdrawing his hand. "No matter," he said softly. "You will learn. And in time, you will see the truth of what I am. And what you are."
Hazel's heart raced as she struggled to regain control of her thoughts. She wanted to speak, to demand answers, but the words wouldn't come. There was an intensity in his gaze that held her captive, a force that seemed to tie her to him in ways she couldn't understand.
"I believe," Azrael said, stepping back slightly, "that our journey together has only just begun, Princess."
As he turned away, Hazel's mind raced. What had just happened? What had he meant by what he said? The questions swirled around her, but one thing was clear—this was no ordinary man she was to marry. Azrael was something far more dangerous, and far more powerful, than she had ever imagined.
But was she ready to face it? Was she ready to face the darkness that seemed to follow him, that seemed to already be creeping into her life?
The door closed behind her, and Hazel was left alone with her thoughts. But she knew that the moment she had just witnessed would haunt her for the rest of her life. There was no turning back now. She was bound to him, just as the prophecy had said.
And with that bond came the darkness that neither of them could escape.