Prince Maverick's POV
Since the coronation, my mind hadn't known peace. Every moment, every breath, was shadowed by thoughts of her—Violet. I tried to focus on my duties, to fulfill the expectations now resting on my shoulders as the newly crowned king. But the weight of the crown was nothing compared to the ache in my chest.
I spent countless nights pacing the halls, searching for a way—any way—to leave the palace without being tracked. But the immortal realm was on high alert, and my every movement was watched, every step traced with magic and duty. Escape was no longer just difficult—it was nearly impossible.
Still, none of that mattered more than her.
The Selection was drawing closer. Everyone kept congratulating me as if I had been given a gift, a grand opportunity to choose a queen from the most noble bloodlines. But I didn't want a queen chosen for politics. I didn't want a stranger sharing my throne—or my life.
It was driving me mad.
