Crossing the Border (Rania) novel Chapter 252

**He Asked Me to Leave My Dreams, So I Decided to Make Him One of Them by Mira Lorian**
**Chapter 252**

Rania stood frozen, her father’s words echoing ominously in her mind like a haunting melody. The emotional storm swirling within her left her feeling utterly lost. What was she meant to feel in this moment? Anguish? Rage? Instead, an overwhelming emptiness clawed at her heart, a gaping void that threatened to consume her entirely. She swallowed hard, fighting against the bitterness that threatened to spill over, and turned away, her thoughts racing like wild horses.

One day, she would find a way to speak to him again, she promised herself. But for now, she needed to gather her strength for the confrontation that awaited her.

“You cannot meet him, my queen. He poses a danger; he is a prisoner of war,” Lucian insisted, his voice steady yet urgent, fully aware of the perilous path Rania was contemplating. The air between them thickened with tension as he realized the identity of the man she was intent on seeing in the depths of the dungeon.

“Have you shackled him with silver?” Rania asked, her voice unwavering but tinged with urgency as she turned her attention to the guard standing nearby.

The guard’s face shifted from surprise to shock at the sound of the queen’s voice. It had been a long time since she had addressed him directly, but he quickly regained his composure, nodding respectfully. “Yes, my queen, we have indeed chained him with silver,” he replied, his tone polite yet cautious, as if he were walking on thin ice.

Lucian, however, remained steadfast, his concern palpable. “We must inform the king immediately.”

“Then do it,” Rania commanded, her resolve unyielding as she strode forward, her pace unwavering. She gestured for the guards to unlock the cell door, instructing them to remain outside while she navigated the narrow corridor lined with empty cells on either side.

The air was thick with the scent of despair, and the muffled sounds of prisoners echoed ominously around her. Most of these souls were captured warriors, the very ones who had conspired against her, yet their voices were silenced, leaving only the clinking of chains to fill the void.

As she walked past, the clanking of iron filled the air, a cacophony that would have unnerved anyone else. But Rania pressed on, her determination propelling her forward until she reached the cell that held the one person she had come to see.

There he was—Kilian, chained to the wall like a forgotten relic, his mouth covered by a silver muzzle. The sight of him sent a chill down her spine. The silver was clearly taking its toll; the skin around his cheeks was inflamed, a painful reminder of his cruel captivity.

Kilian had been taken prisoner during the battle, seized by one of Aspen’s warriors and thrown in with the other rebels from the Barlukan Kingdom. They had soon realized that he was the fugitive they had been hunting, and now, a death sentence loomed over him like a dark cloud, casting a shadow over everything.

Rania was acutely aware that Kilian and the others in these cells were facing their end, but she needed to see him first, to confront the reality of her own emotions.

“Kilian?” she called softly, her voice slicing through the heavy silence. He lifted his head at the sound of her voice, disbelief washing over his features. He had not expected to see her again, not after all this time apart.

His reaction was immediate; he thrashed against his restraints, a guttural sound escaping him, a primal cry of desperation as he fought against the bonds that held him captive.

Watching his struggle, Rania felt a sharp pang of sympathy mixed with a flicker of fear. She took a cautious step back, observing as Kilian’s desperation intensified. He wanted her to stay; he needed to see her. It had been far too long since their paths had crossed.

His growls echoed in the cell, a raw expression of longing and frustration. He was oblivious to the pain coursing through his wrists and body as he fought against the silver chains, but his efforts were in vain; the chains were too strong, too unyielding.

And the silver kept him from shifting into his wolf form, a fate that only added fuel to his fury. He continued to thrash and growl, the sound reverberating off the cold stone walls, filling the air with his anguish.

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