"You're mine now," he said.
Steam hissed as Frieda stepped out of her Titan, still dressed in her formal royal gown. Her eyes—once clouded with submission—now stared ahead with clarity.
Rod Reiss took a step back.
His breath caught. He knew that look.
That... shouldn't be possible.
"F-Frieda?" he said, voice shaking. "Why are you—how are you acting like this?"
She didn't answer.
Rod's face twisted in horror as realization began to sink in. "You're not bound," he whispered. "You—you disobeyed the King's Will…"
His knees buckled slightly. "That's not possible. That vow—it's absolute. It binds the blood. It—"
Then he looked at Jake.
And everything fell apart.
"You," Rod breathed. "You touched her. No… more than that. You broke it."
He stared in growing panic. "What are you?! That vow's held for over a hundred years—passed from one Reiss to the next."
Jake stepped toward him.
Rod flinched.
Jake didn't speak yet. He simply looked into Rod's eyes—and let it show.
Not his full form. Just enough.
His skin seemed to ripple, just faintly. Like a mirage. His pupils thinned, gleaming red for a blink of a moment. His presence grew heavier. The kind of pressure that crushed the lungs, that made the heart race without knowing why. A feeling that something unnatural stood before them. Not a Titan. Not a Shifter.
Something else.
Rod fell backward, hand trembling, eyes wide in disbelief.
"You're not human," he whispered. "You're not one of us… YOU!!!."
Jake's voice finally came—flat. "The Vow was made by cowards. And your bloodline's been slaves to it for too long."
Rod stammered, sweating. "You—You destroyed it. You destroyed. You shattered the pact…"
Jake glanced down at Rod, who was practically foaming now—rambling, sweating, muttering prayers to kings long dead.
He'd had enough.
He turned his head slightly, eyes flicking toward Frieda.
"You need to shut your old man up," Jake said, calm but sharp. "Because if he opens his mouth one more time, I won't be here the next second—and I swear, neither will he."
Frieda didn't even blink.
She turned to Rod—her father, her king—and for the first time in her life, there was no obedience in her eyes.
"Father," she said. Her voice was cold. Steady. "Be quiet. Now."
Rod's mouth stayed open for a second longer—like he might protest.
Then he shut it.
Jake gave her a small nod.
"Let's go," he said.
Frieda turned and led him out of the cave—through the long, winding stone path only reserved for the royal bloodline. The torches flickered behind them. Her siblings stayed behind with the maids, too stunned to speak.
Outside, the cool air hit them.
Jake looked up at the stars.
The Reiss estate was nearby, quiet, isolated in the night.
Frieda led him inside. No guards dared stop them.
She gave Jake a room.
Jake stood in the center of the room for a moment, staring at nothing.
Then he sat on the bed.
And waited.
The moon rose high.
The estate was still.
Footsteps approached.
A soft knock.
Jake didn't answer.
The door creaked open.
Frieda stepped in, her hair unbraided now, robe tied loose at her waist. Her expression wasn't regal. It wasn't afraid either. Just uncertain.
She closed the door behind her.
"I couldn't sleep," she said.
Jake didn't look at her yet.
"I've had voices in my head my whole life," she went on, slowly. "Telling me what to do. What not to do. What I must become."
She looked at him now—really looked.
"But tonight… they're all gone. It's quiet. I don't know if I should be grateful… or terrified."
Jake finally looked up.
His voice was low. "Both."
Frieda smiled faintly. Then sat across from him on the edge of the bed, legs pulled up, hands in her lap.
"I don't know what you are," she said. "but.. i cant express how i can repay you for saving me and my family."
Jake didn't respond at first. He just leaned back slightly, eyes half-lidded.
Then he reached for the edge of the blanket and pulled it aside, slow and deliberate.
"Come here," he said.
Frieda hesitated.
She moved. Quietly. Obediently.
She sat beside him—close, but not touching.
Jake reached out and took hold of her wrist. Then, without another word, he pulled her into him.
Her breath stopped as her body pressed against his, head resting near his collarbone.
He draped the blanket around them both, one arm tight around her back, holding her there.
"You're mine now," Jake said, low in her ear. "Don't forget that."
Frieda didn't move.
Didn't resist.
She couldn't.
She knew it. Felt it. Whatever he was—whatever he'd become—he wasn't someone you said no to. He'd shattered a hundred years of royal will with a thought. He stopped time, killed Titans with his bare hands.
Her fingers clutched the fabric of his pants gently, unsure.
Frieda rested against his chest, tense at first… then slowly easing into it. Her fingers relaxed. Her breathing steadied.
The voices were still gone.
Only his heartbeat.
She blushed faintly, cheeks tinting pink. Not from fear. Something else.
She tilted her head up slightly, eyes brushing over the line of his collarbone, the scarless, perfect skin.