Caged By the Lich

25. Astrid

25

ASTRID

I stand in the lush gardens of Olvaar's home, my heart racing with anticipation. The vibrant foliage and exotic flowers seem more vivid today, as if nature itself is celebrating this moment. I spot Athena approaching, her golden curls bouncing with each step. For once, there's no need to hide or whisper.

"Thena!" I call out, waving.

She breaks into a run, and we collide in a tangle of limbs and laughter. I bury my face in her hair, and this time there's no tangles from coming through the bushes. She walked right in through the front door.

"I can't believe this," Athena says, pulling back to look at me. Her eyes are wide with wonder. "They really did just let me walk right in. He trusts you that much?"

I grin, spreading my arms wide. "Welcome to my new reality."

We settle on a nearby bench, our shoulders touching. Athena's gaze roams over me, taking in every detail.

"You look... different," she says, tilting her head. "Good different. You're glowing."

I feel heat rise to my cheeks. "Am I?"

"Definitely. There's this confidence about you now. Like you've found your place." Athena's eyes narrow playfully. "It wouldn't have anything to do with a certain demon lord, would it?"

I laugh, shoving her lightly. "Maybe." Then I look at her, fighting back some of my excitement. "You don't mind?"

"I don't think it matters what I think of him." Athena's voice softens. "You're happy here, aren't you?"

I pause, considering her words. "I am. It's complicated, but... yes. I'm happy."

Athena takes my hand, squeezing it gently. "Then I'm happy for you, sis. You deserve this."

We spend the next hour catching up, our conversation flowing freely without the fear of being overheard. As we talk, I realize how much I've changed. I tell Athena that I don't want to come, that I want to be here with Olvaar, and she seems to understand.

As the sun begins to dip lower in the crimson sky, Athena and I share a tight embrace. The scent of her familiar perfume brings a wave of nostalgia, but it no longer feels like home. This place, with its dark beauty and dangerous allure, has become my new reality.

"We can make this a weekly thing," I tell her, pulling back to meet her eyes. "Same time, same place?"

Athena nods, a mix of relief and lingering concern in her expression. "I'd like that. Just... be careful, Astrid. You know how Father feels about?—"

"I know," I cut her off gently. "But this is my choice. I'm not a prisoner anymore."

Olvaar asked me not to leave because it's not safe, but guards don't stand outside my door or follow me around the halls. I really do believe he trusts me.

With a final squeeze of my hand, Athena turns and walks away, her golden curls catching the fading light. I watch until she disappears from view, a bittersweet ache in my chest.

Needing to clear my head, I decide to take a walk through the gardens. The air is heavy with the scent of night-blooming flowers, their dark petals unfurling in the twilight. As I round a corner, I hear low voices and instinctively slow my steps.

There, in a small clearing, stands Olvaar. He's surrounded by his advisors, his tall frame radiating authority. The sight of him hits me like a physical force, my breath catching in my throat.

My heart leaps unexpectedly, and no part of it is from fear. It's because I can't deny the way I feel about him, nor the way I love the power he exudes, the way his presence commands respect and fear in equal measure. It's intoxicating.

I lean against a nearby tree, drinking in the sight of him. This is Olvaar in his element – the feared demon lord, the master strategist. And yet, I know a side of him that these advisors will never see. The thought sends a thrill through me.

As I lean against the tree, lost in thought, Olvaar's gaze suddenly locks onto mine. Without missing a beat, he dismisses his advisors with a curt nod. They scatter like leaves in the wind, leaving us alone in the clearing.

My breath catches as he strides towards me, his presence filling the space between us. "Enjoying the view?" he asks, a hint of amusement in his voice.

I straighten up, meeting his eyes. "Just admiring your leadership skills," I quip, feeling a rush of warmth at our easy banter.

Olvaar's lips quirk into a half-smile. "Care to join me for a walk?" He offers his arm, a gesture that still surprises me with its gentleness.

I slip my hand into the crook of his elbow, savoring the warmth of his skin against mine. "Lead the way."

We set off down a winding path, the garden's nocturnal beauty unfolding around us. Night-blooming flowers release their heady scent, and the soft rustle of leaves creates a soothing backdrop.

"How was your meeting with Athena?" Olvaar asks, his tone carefully neutral.

I glance up at him, touched by his effort to broach the subject. "It was good. Really good, actually. Thank you for arranging it."

He nods, his eyes softening. "I'm glad. Your happiness is... important to me."

The admission hangs in the air between us, weighty with unspoken emotions. We walk in companionable silence for a while, the rhythm of our steps in perfect sync.

I decide it's time for me to offer him a truth. Since he's given me so many.

"I never thought I'd feel so at home here," I admit softly, gesturing to the garden around us.

Olvaar's gaze is intense as he looks at me. "And I never thought I'd want someone to feel at home here," he replies.

We continue our stroll through the moonlit garden, and I find myself stealing glances at Olvaar. The way he moves is mesmerizing - fluid and powerful, like a predator at ease. His eyes scan our surroundings, ever vigilant, yet his posture remains relaxed. It strikes me how natural this feels, walking arm in arm with him through his domain.

As we pause near a trickling fountain, the realization hits me like a bolt of lightning. My heart races, and I can barely breathe. I don't just think that I love him.

I do love him.

I'm absolutely in love with him.

I want to be anywhere he is. I want those beautiful gray eyes on me, swirling with the gold and purple that seem to be reserved only for me. I want his hands on me, his kisses, his laughter and dry wit and anger. I want everything there is.

I want all of Olvaar.

The thought is terrifying and exhilarating all at once. How did this happen? When did he become the person I can't imagine living without?

I struggle to process this flood of emotions, and the part of me that has always kept my emotions at bay flares. It can't be real, can it? This man who struck fear into the hearts of demons, who took me from my home - how could I possibly love him?

Desperate for something to ground me, I turn to Olvaar. "Tell me something real," I blurt out, my voice barely above a whisper.

He looks at me, his eyes unreadable in the dim light. For a moment, I think he might not answer.

Then, his voice low and serious, he asks, "Do you want to know how I really got my nickname?"

I nod. I thought I knew, but the way he said…It makes me think that maybe there's more to it. Olvaar's eyes meet mine, and I see a flicker of vulnerability there that makes my heart ache.

"It wasn't because of vengeance, not at first," he begins, his gaze drifting to the fountain. "I had a little brother once. Oriax."

My eyes widen at this revelation. Olvaar, with a family? It's hard to imagine, and yet the pain in his voice is unmistakable.

"He couldn't pronounce my full name when he was young," Olvaar continues, a ghost of a smile touching his lips. "So he called me V. It was... our thing."

I lean into him, hoping I can give him some strength. "What happened to him?"

Olvaar's jaw tightens. "Our bloodline is strong, Astrid. Too strong, sometimes. When Oriax came into his major magic, it... it consumed him. Killed him."

My breath catches in my throat. "Oh, Olvaar..."

"It's a fear in our family," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "That a child might be killed by their own magic. Just like my brother."

I can see the weight of this memory in the set of his shoulders, the tension in his jaw. Without thinking, I wrap an arm around his waist, wanting to offer comfort as I nudge under his arm and burrow into his side.

"After that, I did become vengeful," Olvaar admits, the word pained and yet, it sounds like he's never told anyone this. Like he needs to say it. "I hated the nickname at first. Then... I clung to it. Like it kept him around somehow."

"And your parents?" I ask gently.

Olvaar's eyes close briefly. "My mother... she died of heartbreak. And my father, he fell in battle. Though he'd never admit it, the fight started from the rage of losing a wife and son." He sighs. "Oriax's death killed us all…in different ways."

My heart breaks for him. For the boy he must have been, losing everything in such quick succession. For losing a brother he clearly loved. And now I see why he's so fierce, so protective, so afraid to let anyone in or near.

He's scarred by loss.

I pull him toward me, reaching up to cup his face. His eyes, those beautiful gray orbs with swirls of purple and orange, lock onto mine.

"I am so, so sorry, Olvaar."

He leans forward, pressing his forehead to mine. "I'll give you another real thing," he whispers. "It had been so long since someone just called me Olvaar. I'd forgotten what it was to hear my name and not feel pain."

I can't bear it any longer. I lean in, pressing my lips to his in a desperate kiss. I pour everything into it - my understanding, my compassion, my love. I want to erase all his pain, to show him that he's not alone anymore.

When we finally break apart, both breathless, I don't release him. I keep him pressed firmly against me, wanting him to feel how true my words are.

"Olvaar," I whisper, savoring the way his name feels on my lips. "You're not alone anymore. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."