Chapter 2

A Cold Reality

Groaning in frustration, I left the coffee shop, my feet carrying me back home despite the storm of thoughts racing through my head. One of the guards had undoubtedly seen me talking to the strange man, and that would surely mean trouble.

As I walked through the door of my apartment, my eyes were drawn to the answering machine. The blinking red light caught my attention, almost as if it was beckoning me to listen. But no one had ever called me here. Hesitantly, I pressed play.

“Lisa, honey, it’s your mother calling. I know I never call, but this year marks five years since your father passed. I would like to see you at his gravestone this year. I know it’s been tough with him gone, but I think your father would like to see you again. I know I would like to. There isn’t much time left, you really should come home.”

The words hit me like a physical blow, and I fumbled for a moment, trying to process what I had just heard. Come home? I didn’t even know where home was anymore. The tower I had been locked in for so long had started to feel more like home than the farm cottage where I grew up.

Tears pricked at my eyes, and before I knew it, I was pressing play on the machine again. Then again. And again. I couldn’t stop myself, the desperate need to hear my mother’s voice over and over, like a lifeline in the dark, pulling me back to a time I could barely remember. The voice that had once been a comfort now felt so distant, so unreachable.

I sank to the floor, the coldness of the tiles beneath me grounding me, even as my world spun out of control. My hands trembled as I touched the cold ground, a faint echo of the earth beneath the farmhouse I had once called home. The memory of the trees, the soft rustle of the leaves, the smell of fresh earth—it all came flooding back, and for the first time in years, I smiled a real smile.

I slowly pushed myself off the floor, my hands still gripping the edge of the table for support. Standing, I walked to the window and stared out at the city that stretched endlessly beneath me. The apartment I lived in was miles high, with no trees or grass in sight, just the cold, gray buildings that seemed to trap me in their concrete embrace.

It felt wrong. This place—the glass and concrete towers—were never meant to be my home. The city wasn’t just cold and lifeless; it was wrong. The energy here was stifling, heavy. I could almost feel it in my bones, the magic struggling to breathe beneath the weight of human greed and technology.

It was time now.

I wiped the tears from my face, took a deep breath, and grabbed my car keys. Without another moment’s hesitation, I left. The drive to the apartment felt like a blur, my thoughts consumed by the need to escape, to do something—anything—that might bring me back to myself.

When I arrived, I could barely stand. The doorman looked at me with a mix of concern and uncertainty.

“Are you alright, Mrs. Portsmith?” he asked, his voice tinged with worry.

“I’m unsure how I managed to drive here without causing an accident,” I admitted, my voice hoarse. “Can you store my car for me? I don’t have the strength to drive anymore.”

“Of course. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“My husband will call for me,” I muttered, trying to steady my shaking hands. “But you mustn’t let him into my apartment—or let him into the building.”

The doorman hesitated for only a moment before nodding, a small smile crossing his face. “Of course. Keys?”

I didn’t miss the look he gave me when I handed over my keys. Something about it felt… reassuring, as though he knew exactly what I was going through. Unsure on my feet, I waited for him to return so he could walk me to the elevator. Once he left, I slammed the door shut and latched the three locks I had prepared in advance. Closing the curtains on all the windows, I dimmed the lights and let out a breath I didn’t even realize I had been holding. Finally, I collapsed into bed, my body exhausted from the emotional weight of it all.

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The sound of my alarm blared through my nightmare. The same nightmare I had been having for the past week—the feeling of being trapped, of being watched, of knowing that something was coming, but not knowing how to stop it. The fear was suffocating, and no matter how much I tried to wake myself, I always found myself trapped in the same loop.

I blinked blearily at the clock. Ten-thirty. My body felt like lead, and I could hardly remember falling asleep. It was as if the night had simply passed by, taking me with it, leaving me drained.

Rubbing my eyes, I zombie-walked to the bathroom, grimacing when I caught sight of myself in the mirror. My bloodshot eyes, the deep bags under my eyes—they told the story of sleepless nights, of long-term exhaustion. I didn’t even look like myself anymore. I looked like I was thirty-five, when in reality, I was only twenty-four. The toll Kai had taken on me was evident in the silver threads creeping through my hairline, in the wrinkles that had appeared around my eyes. Maybe it was him. Or maybe it was the drugs. Either way, I had aged far too quickly.

I dropped to the bathroom floor, pulling my knees to my chest as the tears came once again.

“You’re safe now. You’re safe now.”

The words repeated in my mind, a mantra of reassurance that didn’t quite sink in. I wiped the last of the tears from my face, washing them away with cool water, but the emptiness remained. I smiled at my pale reflection, but it was hollow, just like everything else in my life.

Without bothering to change, I trudged to the kitchen, fully aware that there would be no food. The emptiness mirrored the hollow ache in my chest, the gnawing hunger for something I couldn’t name. My thoughts were interrupted by the shrill ring of the landline.

It felt like a cruel reminder that I had rid myself of my cell phone, hoping to avoid the constant reminders of the past, of the life I used to have. But now, the landline seemed just as threatening. I picked it up with shaking hands, hoping it wasn’t another call from Kai.

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

“Ma’am, there’s a lawyer here to see you,” the voice on the other end said.

Fear froze my body. He’s here. He’s finally here. There’s no way he’ll let me go without a fight. This is where I die.

“It’s not your husband, Lisa. It’s another lawyer from his firm. She says he has papers you need to sign.”

“Okay,” I said, my voice a mere whisper, “if you think she is safe, you can send her up.”

I stood by the door, waiting, listening for the telltale sounds of expensive, steel-capped boots that had been burned into my memory. But when the sharp click of high heels echoed in the hall, I let out the breath I had been holding. I peered through the peephole and saw the red hair of a woman standing at my door.

When I opened the door, she made an ever-so-subtle noise before walking into the apartment. I offered her a cup of coffee, my hands trembling as I watched her spread documents on the coffee table.

“What’s this?” I asked, my voice hoarse.

“Divorce papers,” she replied flatly. “Mr. Portsmith has already signed them and agreed to the prenup you both signed on your wedding day.”

I blinked. “I wasn’t aware we even had a prenup.”

I couldn’t remember much these days. My mind felt fractured, pieces of my past slipping away with each passing day. But something in me knew that Kai wouldn’t have insisted on a prenup. It must have been my father. My father had always been the one to make those decisions.

Gina handed me the prenup, and I read through the papers slowly, my fingers tracing my father’s signature as if the touch could bring back the past. I motioned for a pen and signed the papers without hesitation. Gina gathered the documents and stood up to leave.

“Why is he giving in?” I asked, the question slipping from my lips before I could stop it.

“You’ve been locked up in this apartment for nearly three months, Lisa,” she said, her tone soft but matter-of-fact. “He thought this would make you happy.”

Three months?

“Take a shower, Lisa. You stink. And smile. You’re finally free.”

The words hit me like a cold slap, and I froze. Three months? I hadn’t even realized how much time had passed. It felt like a blur—days blending into each other, nothing but the heavy weight of the city and the constant watchful eyes of Kai’s men surrounding me. I hadn’t seen a way out. I hadn’t thought there was a way out.

Free. The word felt foreign, as if it didn’t belong to me.

But Gina’s words echoed in my mind. You’re finally free.

Was I? Or was this just another cage, a different shape, but still a prison? Without Kai, I was supposed to be liberated, yet all I felt was… lost. The emptiness had been my constant companion for so long that I wasn’t sure how to function without it.

Gina had already left, the door clicking shut behind her, but I stood there, staring at the papers she had left on the table. The divorce papers. The prenup. It all felt so clinical, so impersonal. As if everything that had once been mine—the life, the marriage, the memories—was now being boiled down to cold legalities.

The sharp sting of my father’s signature still lingered on my fingers. I had barely known him when he was alive, and now even his mark was just a ghost—fading away, slipping through my grasp.

Is this what freedom feels like? I thought, walking slowly to the window. Outside, the world continued on, indifferent to my existence. The city was as cold and imposing as ever, its steel and glass structures towering over me, offering no comfort. I pressed my palm against the cool glass, my reflection barely visible through the fogged surface.

“Lisa…”

The soft voice that called my name sent a shiver down my spine. I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. The air around me seemed to thicken, as if the very space I occupied had become charged with some unseen presence.

I spun around, and there he was—Erin. Standing just inside the doorway, his face bathed in a soft, almost ethereal light. His expression was pained, but determined.

“You… you came?” I barely managed to whisper, my voice cracked with confusion and disbelief.

Erin nodded, his eyes never leaving mine. “I wasn’t sure you would believe me, but I couldn’t leave you like this. Not when it’s getting worse.”

I wanted to ask him what was getting worse. I wanted to demand answers—about the dark wizards, about my past, about the life I was supposed to have, about all of this. But the words felt trapped in my throat, tangled with the fear and uncertainty that clung to me like a second skin.

“You’re not safe here, Lisa,” Erin said, his voice low, urgent. “Not anymore. They know where you are. The dark wizards… they’ve been tracking you.”

A cold chill crawled up my spine. “Tracking me?” I whispered, stepping back toward the couch, trying to steady myself. “Why? I don’t even know who I am.”

“You are more than you realize.” His gaze softened, and for a moment, I saw the Erin I remembered—a boy I used to trust, a person who had once meant everything to me. “You’ve always known. The mark on your arm… it’s not just a birthright, Lisa. It’s power. And the dark wizards want it.”

Power. That word again. It felt both heavy and strange. I glanced down at my left arm, where the royal mark still burned faintly beneath my skin. The mark that had always made me feel like an outsider, an imposter in my own life.

“I can’t…” I began, my voice shaking. “I can’t be this person. I can’t be the princess. I don’t even know what that means.”

Erin stepped forward, his eyes filled with something I couldn’t quite name—sympathy? Understanding? “I know. But you don’t have a choice anymore. They’ll come for you, whether you’re ready or not. And when they do, you need to be prepared.”

I shook my head. “I don’t even know how to prepare for this. How am I supposed to fight dark wizards when I can’t even remember my own life?”

“You don’t have to fight alone,” Erin said, his voice firm. “I’ll help you. We’ll do this together.”

The weight of his words settled on me like a heavy blanket. Together. It sounded so simple, so easy. But the fear gnawing at my gut told me it wasn’t going to be easy. Nothing ever was.

I didn’t trust my own mind anymore, let alone trust him. But something inside me—the piece that was still me, no matter how fractured—knew that I couldn’t ignore this. I couldn’t pretend I was just some ordinary woman living in an ordinary apartment, pretending to forget.

This life, this nightmare, it wasn’t something I could outrun anymore.

“Alright,” I said, my voice low, determined. “Alright. I’ll do it. But I need to know everything. Everything, Erin.”

He nodded, stepping closer. “I’ll tell you what you need to know. But first, you need to come with me. We don’t have much time.”

I hesitated for a moment, looking around the apartment, feeling the weight of everything I had built, everything I had been running from, closing in on me. But the path ahead was clear. There was no more hiding. No more pretending.

“I’m ready,” I whispered, the words finally slipping out.

Erin smiled, a flicker of hope in his eyes. “Then let’s go. It’s time to wake up.”