Callan

The forest was alive with secrets. Shadows drifted between the trees, and a cool breeze rustled through the leaves, whispering things only Callan could hear. He moved carefully, keeping his steps silent on the soft earth, but there was no real need for stealth. Here, he was surrounded by his own kingdom-a kingdom built on ancient traditions, bound by nature, and ruled by his family for generations.

He should have been at the palace tonight, listening to yet another lecture on duty and legacy. Instead, he was here, drawn to the quiet and the solitude of the forest, a place that seemed to breathe with him, where he didn't feel the relentless gaze of his family. You cannot lead alone, Callan, his father had said, his tone thick with the kind of authority that rarely allowed room for argument. A leader must have a soulmate beside him. It's time.his family wanted him to choose a wife. No, they didn't just want him to choose-they demanded it. It had been a tradition, passed down through generations, for the leader of their people to marry young, to find a soulmate and cement his place as their ruler.

Time. As if he wasn't reminded of it every day, every moment. But what they didn't understand-what no one seemed to understand-was that Callan couldn't simply force himself into a bond as pure as marriage. In his world, marriage was sacred, a connection meant to unite two souls in a way that could not be undone. It was supposed to be timeless, undeniable.

But he'd never felt that spark with anyone. Not yet. And maybe, he feared, he never would.
He should have gone back. The city was calling him, his responsibilities pulling at him like an invisible weight. But he didn't.

He couldn't.

There were times when the pressure of the crown felt too much, when the expectations of his family, his people, and the history of his bloodline pressed down on him so hard that he couldn't breathe. Tonight was one of those nights.

He stopped walking and looked up at the dark canopy of leaves above him, where the sky barely peeked through. The shadows made the world feel even older, a reminder of the weight of his bloodline, and the unbroken line of leaders who had ruled before him. They'd all found their soulmates. They'd all fulfilled their duty. And now, it was his turn.

Only he wasn't ready.

Soulmates. It sounded so easy when it was talked about in the stories, in the songs sung by the elders.........

A distant sound pulled him from his thoughts-a faint rustling somewhere deeper in the trees. Callan stilled, listening. The forest was usually calm at this hour, undisturbed by anything other than the occasional call of an owl or the soft rustle of animals in the underbrush. But this was different, sharper, like the unmistakable crack of a branch underfoot.

His senses sharpened, his body alert as he searched the darkened forest around him. For a brief moment, he considered turning back, but something held him in place. Curiosity, maybe. Or perhaps a sense of foreboding he couldn't quite shake.

Then he saw her.

At first, she was nothing more than a blur of movement between the trees. He squinted, watching as the figure moved closer, breaking through the shadows into a patch of moonlight. A woman, her form outlined by the silver glow. She was stumbling slightly, her steps uncertain, as though she were lost. Her clothes were torn, her hair tangled, and she looked completely out of place here, like she'd stepped out of another world entirely.

Callan held his breath, every muscle in his body tensing. She was a stranger-an intruder, by all rights. No one from his kingdom wandered this deep into the forest, and yet here she was, as if she'd been pulled here by something beyond her control.

He took a step forward, his gaze locked on her, trying to understand what he was seeing. But before he could say a word, her head whipped toward him, her eyes wide and panicked, her body going rigid as if she expected him to strike.

"Stay back," she breathed, her voice low and edged with fear.

The words caught him off guard. There was a desperation in her voice that was foreign, raw, and it sent a strange, electric pulse through him. She didn't know who he was, didn't know that he was the one who kept this kingdom safe. She didn't know that he had no intention of harming her.

But the fear in her eyes-it was real. So real he could feel it seeping into him, her vulnerability clashing...

"I'm not going to hurt you," he said softly, lifting his hands to show he meant no harm.

She didn't move. Her gaze remained fixed on him, unblinking, as if she was caught in some waking nightmare she couldn't escape.

"you are...you are not going to kill me, right?" she stammered, voice trembling.

The stranger's lips twitched. Then i shook my head, i try my voice a low, calm reassurance. "If I wanted to hurt you, you would already be hurt."