Transmigrated as the Villainess Princess - Chapter 197

Chapter 197: Hold Tighter
From the moment Ahcehera stepped off the starship, Rohzivaan felt it. A disturbance, an emptiness in the space that once belonged to her.

He could not explain it in words, nor could he pinpoint exactly what had changed. But it was there, lurking beneath the surface, gnawing at his insides like a silent predator.

She looked the same, moved the same, spoke the same. Yet, something was missing. Something fundamental, something that had once tethered them together.

The moment their eyes met, a cold dread settled deep in his bones. His wolf stirred uneasily within him, howling at an unseen loss.

He rushed to her, his arms wrapping tightly around her before he could think. She was warm, solid, real.

But it wasn’t enough. It felt like holding onto a ghost, like she was slipping through his fingers even as he pressed her against him.

He buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent, memorizing it, grounding himself in her presence. He needed to convince himself that she was still his.

But the way she hesitated, the way her hands rested lightly on his back, neither pushing him away nor pulling him closer, unraveled something deep within him.

He tightened his grip, his voice barely above a whisper. “I missed you.”

Ahcehera chuckled softly, but it did not reach her eyes. “I was only gone for a short while.”

To her, it may have been nothing. But to him, it had felt like an eternity. He pulled away just enough to look at her, searching for the bond that had once been as natural as breathing.

But there was nothing. No thread of fate, no familiar hum of their souls intertwined. It was gone.

A deep, unrelenting panic gripped his chest. He tried to mask it, tried to pretend that everything was fine, but his wolf knew.

It clawed at his mind, urging him to act, to do something before it was too late.

So he did. That night, he showered her in every bit of love he had. He refused to let her slip away, refused to let whatever had come between them steal her from him.

He touched her with a desperation that frightened even himself, kissed her with a hunger that bordered on madness.

She responded, but there was something distant in the way she moved. Like a queen indulging her king, like a woman fulfilling an expectation rather than surrendering to passion.

It drove him insane. He whispered against her skin, traced every curve with reverence, as if worshiping something fragile.

He held her like she was slipping through the cracks of reality, like this night was all he had left before the universe stole her away.

His love was overwhelming, suffocating, all-consuming. Because he was afraid. Afraid that she would wake up and look at him the way strangers did.

Afraid that she would walk away and never turn back. Afraid that whatever had severed their bond had also severed her heart from his.

And when the night finally faded, when dawn painted the sky in shades of gold and violet, he lay beside her, wide awake, staring at the ceiling with an ache that would not leave.

She was still there. Her body was next to his, her scent still clung to the sheets, but he felt lonelier than ever.

He reached for her, brushing stray strands of hair from her face, but she did not stir. She looked peaceful, untouched by the storm raging inside him.

He clenched his jaw, his fingers curling into fists. If she was slipping away, he would not let her go. If fate had decided to loosen its grip on them, he would tighten his own.

She was his mate. His wife. His queen. She belonged to him. And he would remind her of that, every single day, for the rest of their lives.

That night, Rohzivaan drifted into a restless sleep, his body exhausted but his mind tormented by an unrelenting fear.

In his dream, the world was shrouded in thick mist, swirling like ghostly tendrils around his feet.

The sky above was dark, stripped of its stars, the moon absent from the heavens. A heavy silence blanketed the air, thick and suffocating, pressing down on him like an invisible force.

He called out her name. “Ahcehera.”

His voice echoed, swallowed by the vast emptiness. There was no response.

Panic laced his veins as he took a step forward, his boots crunching against the lifeless ground. He searched for her, his heart pounding against his ribs, his breath shallow.

The mist grew denser, wrapping around him like chains, whispering secrets in a language he could not understand. And then, he saw her.

Ahcehera stood in the distance, her back turned to him, her long silver hair cascading down her back like flowing silk.

She was wearing the dress she had on the night of their wedding, the deep crimson fabric moving with an unseen breeze. But something was wrong.

She was fading. Her form flickered, like a dying flame struggling against the wind.

“No,” he breathed, breaking into a run. “Ahcehera!”

She did not turn. He ran faster, pushing against the force that tried to hold him back, his arms outstretched, his fingers desperate to reach her.

But with every step he took, she grew further away.

His chest tightened, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His wolf howled inside him, clawing at his soul, desperate to keep her from slipping away.

“Don’t go!” he shouted, his voice raw, breaking with emotion. At last, she turned.

Her face was serene, her violet eyes calm, too calm. There was no warmth in them, no recognition. She gazed at him the way one would look at a passing stranger.

Then she whispered something he could not hear. And just like that, she was gone. Vanished into the mist.

Rohzivaan collapsed to his knees, his fingers grasping at nothing but air, his heart shattered into a thousand pieces.

A strangled cry tore from his throat, his entire being consumed by the unbearable loss. The silence was deafening. The world was empty. And he was alone.

He woke with a start, his breath ragged, his body drenched in cold sweat. His hands trembled as he reached out, desperate to feel her warmth, to confirm that she was still there.

But when his fingers found her, when he felt the slow, steady rise of her breathing, the relief that flooded through him did little to soothe the fear embedded deep within his bones.

He had seen it. Felt it. The terrifying possibility that one day, he might wake up, and she would truly be gone.