Thanks for reading! If you're liking the story, consider voting with gems or leaving a review!
[ELARA]From the shore, I watch the Cursed Gulf bubble. Steam billows from its surface, boiling despite the cold wind that prickles my bare arms, forming tiny cuts through which blood oozes. But it isn't red; it's a mixture of black and gold, shimmering as it trickles down my arms. Dark clouds gather in the sky, shrouding the shore.My eyes are fixed on the lone cog approaching, paddled by a mysterious figure, its mast bearing a singular sail adorned with a skull. The air is filled with the sound of water splashing and gurgling. As it edges closer, I hold my breath. When the cog grinds to a halt on the sand, the sky clears, revealing the figure.The man wears a dark robe, his face hidden by a long hood. His hands gripping the paddle are plain bones, devoid of skin. My body casts a long shadow on the sand, but he has no shadow.It’s the Soulkeeper.This isn’t real, I realize with a gasp. ‘Wake up,’ Lila’s distorted voice echoes in my mind. ‘Wake up!’But I can’t will myself awake. I can
[ELARA]We’re both frozen, caught by each other unexpectedly. Momentarily, the corridors and every other thought fade away, leaving only Magnus and the inexplicable pull he has over me.He tears his golden gaze away... in shame? But not quickly enough. His eyes have already captured me, making me lose a bit of myself. They seem to stare straight into my soul, unraveling all my fears and desires. I wonder, is he also reminded of the last time we were this close to each other?His broad shoulders seem like they could bear the weight of the world, and I think of how it’ll feel to have them wrapped around me.‘Get a hold of yourself!’ Lila exclaims, and I just close my eyes in defeat.When I open my eyes, promising myself to not act stupid, I find Magnus struggling to choose his words. He could simply walk away, avoiding the conversation altogether, but he remains rooted to the spot. His mouth opens and closes, and his lips catch my eyes. Instinctively, I lick mine. And that gesture moves
[ELARA]“Go away,” I mumble weakly before I remember what my husband did to hers, failing to stop tears from coming out of my eyes. “Please.”Although Lady Brook flinches at the hoarseness of my tone, she doesn’t leave. Her eyes dart between my knuckles and the patches of blood on the polished floor. “You’re hurt,” she observes softly. “Your wounds must be tended to.”“There’s no need,” I tell her, rising abruptly to my feet and hastily wiping my cheeks. “I have wolf blood. They’ll heal.”Lady Brook frowns. “The floor? And your gown?” “Talisa will take care of the floor. This gown I shall burn,” I tell her in a cold voice. She lets out a gasp, her eyes flickering to the hearth. “Oh, heavens! Did you do that?” she asks, hurrying to watch the burning clothes in the hearth. “You couldn’t. Who did that?”“Why does it matter?” I ask her, forcing myself to take another glance at the burnt painting. “They’re ruined.”She protests, “You can’t let this be seen by anyone, Princess Elara. Not e
[MAGNUS]The dilapidated entrance to the prison dungeon looms before me, watching with disappointment. Its stones, worn and crumbling from decades of neglect, seem to whisper ancient curses as I approach. The stone stairs crumble beneath my weight, forcing me to leap and catch the edge before the entire structure collapses into the void below.Gladly, prior to her disappearance, Morgana was cunning enough to craft a concealed entrance, imbued with dark magic. Now with her amulet, I can use it to open and close the entrance.‘She still lives,’ Creed resounds in my mind. ‘Right under your nose.’Morgana is not someone who will let anyone discover her. She will appear again when she wishes to. And so I don’t want to waste my precious time chasing away leads that she can smartly get rid of. Let her play her game. She will come to me when she’s bored. I’d had the prisoners moved to an isolated holding on the outskirts of Norhall, because somehow, a part of me had known I’d be needing the s
[CREED]The water that escapes out of the broken clear wall gushes around the many stones, and splashes against Creed’s black fur. But he’s quick and instantly alerts himself. It’s his eyes that see when the being in the water with a scaly tail lashes at him, and at the man his human likes to keep close, igniting his fury. He pounces at an instant between the man and the being, immersing himself into the water as it closes around him in an attempt at distraction. Creed succeeds, only to hear a rattling hiss echo through the water, erupting from the being’s neck. Its human-like arms try to clasp at his fur, its sharp mouth widening to take a bite, but he gracefully slides through the water. While the being is confused, Creed reaches its back and—despite the desperate denial of his human—closes his jaw around its scaly tail, biting it off his body.Warm, black blood spills out, mixing with the splashing water that has now escaped through crevices, getting a level lower. Letting out an
[ELARA]It’s in the middle of the night and most of the palace is asleep. Magnus leads me through the quiet corridors, guarded by sleepy humans. I follow him, half dazed from my disturbing sleep and half concerned about what I’m about to see. When I asked him to explain himself, he just turned away, lowering his eyes in defeat. Of course, she is dead, I think to myself as our footsteps echo through the high walls. It can’t be worse than that. Magnus walks to a part of the palace that I’ve never seen before. This part is different. Abandoned. No guards stand here. And then I find myself watching over his shoulder to an area of a wall that… shimmers. It ripples as if a stone has been cast across the surface of a lake. With a gasp, I watch Magnus pass through the wall and disappear. One careful, but fearful step puts me across too. And then it all dawns on me in horror. The dungeons. The place where Alec had been held behind silver bars in a cell. Where I’d heard screams of prisone
[ELARA]But it’s not possible. We made sure no one followed us. We heard no human heartbeats near the lair.Lila enlightens me, ‘A vampire’s heart doesn’t beat.’Instinctively, I move closer to Magnus, my hand latching to his arm in fear. His golden eyes flicker to me, momentarily softening, losing the anger with which he regarded Valen. I let go, wondering how embarrassing it must look. So this vampire has been watching us all this while and we didn’t have a clue. Since when has he been around here? The fear of what else he might know is overwhelming. Does he know of the passageway? Of the poison vial Zander handed over to me? My breathing is loud, much audible in the quiet dark dungeon until Magnus' voice cuts through the place, “I don’t trust you, Lord Valen. Your kind doesn’t have a reputation of being loyal.”Valen lets out an amused laugh, snapping the book shut. “You need my loyalty, Prince Magnus? I’m flattered. But all I can really give you right now is my curiosity. And
[ELARA]The journey back is a quiet one, save for the occasional hoot of an owl and the night breeze blowing about. Magnus remains silent as we walk, his steps heavy with unspoken thoughts. When we finally reach my chamber, he stops, his eyes refusing to meet mine. "Goodnight, Elara," he says simply, his voice devoid of its usual warmth.I hesitate, a frown forming as I find my voice. "Mag—"But he's already turning away, his back to me, a wall I can't breach.Alistair’s eyes linger on me for a moment, a silent question in their depths, before he bows and decides to follow his alpha. I swallow the disappointment that rises within me, forcing myself to walk away too. Maybe this is his retaliation for how I avoided having a conversation with him earlier in the corridors. But that was different. It was about us. What I wish to say now is about so much more.The door to my chamber closes behind me with a soft click, sealing me in the oppressive silence. I shiver with fear, walking into the
[ELARA]I stare at the ceiling, breathing a little too loud. I’m aware of the sweat covering my naked body, of the puncture wounds on my neck that are still blazing, eliciting waves of pleasure although Valen is no longer feeding on me. The desire to curl up and close my eyes and shut myself from the world feels too overwhelming. What have I done?A slow breath drifts against my shoulder.I go still.He’s awake.Heat creeps up my neck, shame curling in my stomach. I don’t dare look at him. If I do, I’ll see it—the smug amusement in his expression, the satisfaction, the knowing.I close my eyes, as if I can will myself back into ignorance. As if I can pretend I didn’t just let Valen—the last person I should have touched—consume me whole.“You're thinking too much,” his voice breaks the silence. It’s unbothered. I flinch.He chuckles. “I can hear it, you know. That frantic little heartbeat of yours.”My fingers curl into the sheets, my breath catching. “Go away,” I murmur.Valen shif
[ELARA]Something tells me Valen knows I’m here, and that I’m watching him, but doesn’t stop. “What do you think you are doing?” I hiss at him when I finally find my voice again, daring myself to walk closer. He glances at me leisurely, licking his bloodied lips as he lifts his head from her neck. “I was hungry,” he says with a shrug, and casts Tara aside like a doll. She leans against the wall, the euphoric smile on her face still lingering. “You look… displeased.”I hesitate. I did not think I would Tara here. I really believed she was with Magnus. “She’s our guest,” I whisper, my fingers twitching to reach her, to check if she’s okay—but I don’t. Somehow, I can’t bring myself to touch her. Not when she looks like she’s floating in some distant bliss. “You can’t harm her.”Valen cocks his head slightly, amused. “Harm?” He gestures lazily at Tara’s boneless form. “Does she look harmed to you?”I scoff. “You—” I swallow, forcing air into my lungs. “You drank her blood.”He smirks,
[ELARA]I notice, somewhere between the refilled goblets and the swelling melody of the Bard’s latest song, that Magnus is gone. And Alistair with him. Not that I was informed about it. The feast carries on without them. The Bard, ever the showman, soaks in the attention, strumming his lute with a smirk that suggests he’s well aware of the effect he has on the court. Thornhall has something new to play with tonight. The dancers sit sulking in a corner, forgotten. The musicians find themselves disagreeing with the songs. “I will bed this man tonight,” Lady Brook announces, her words thick with drink as she leans forward, nearly spilling from her seat.I arch a brow. “The Bard?”“Who else?” she breathes, eyes heavy-lidded. “Look at him. That mouth was made for more than singing.”“That’s ambitious.” I huff a quiet laugh, lifting my goblet to my lips. “Don’t let Edith know.”“If I had a mother like that—” she begins with a lazy grin, then downs the rest of her wine. “What do you think
[ELARA]“Did you enjoy the ballad, Your Highness?” Valen’s teasing voice curls around me, his amusement barely concealed. He rises from his seat with effortless grace, extending his hand as if he knew—knew—I would come to him. “I worked with the man himself to craft it.”Every movement in the hall slows. A royal woman should not do this. A wife should not do this. The weight of a hundred eyes presses upon me, mouths whispering, hands tightening around goblets—a scandal. But let them watch. Let them see what their beloved prince has wrought. Let them murmur about the disgrace of Magnus’ mate, the woman who was meant to stand at his side.I take Valen’s hand. His skin is cooler than Magnus’, his grip lighter, but no less commanding.“Do not speak,” I say, my voice a blade, and he only grins.“Remember when I told you last night that when you command me, you’re even—”I cut him off. “Will you dance with me or not?” My words are steel-wrapped velvet, laced with something desperate and rec
[ELARA]I want to leave. No—storm off. Let every guest see, let them know I do not stand by their beloved Prince, their cold and callous Magnus. Let them whisper about the insult, the blatant disrespect. I would not care. I want them to see. I want him to see.How dare he? How dare he shatter my heart so effortlessly, as if it were made of glass? If this is his response—if this is how he welcomes another into his arms so easily, so publicly—then what has he done in the quiet of the past five months? How many nights has he spent like this, without hesitation, without guilt?I knew Talisa—Morgana… kept him company, but I thought… no more. Not since he learned what we are to each other. Not since he learned I am his mate. But now my heart burns, set upon a spit, roasting in the heat of my own foolishness.I told myself he wouldn’t. That he couldn’t. But I see now—I was wrong. I was so wrong.And I kept Valen away because it was him I thought of. Even when Valen’s hands traced my skin, I
[MAGNUS]Valen parts as if nothing has transpired between them—as if he didn’t just openly challenge me. He moves leisurely, as though this is his court, and not mine. A smirk ghosts his lips as he settles into one of the crowded rows, plucking a goblet of wine from a passing maid’s tray with effortless ease.His gaze doesn’t stray from Elara. He watches her as if she belongs to him. He dares to do this. Right in front of my eyes. In a castle I rule.Alistair steps forward to replace the bent chalice without a word. The wine’s poured again, but I no longer care to drink more. If the barrier in Elara’s chamber wasn’t breached, and Valen did not leave his chambers the whole night, when could he have given her the gift? And what did he give her? Before I can demand an answer from Elara, I’m interrupted by a lord whose name I do not recall. “Your Highness,” the human begins, bowing impressively low despite his age. “This humble servant has brought you an offering.”His voice draws Ela
[MAGNUS]As the sun dips down the horizon, the Small Hall of the castle packs up with guests. Among the crowd are those who reside in the castle, lords and ladies from all corners of Tassel, and some from beyond the borders. And then there are the performers—the usual musicians, and the new dancers. And the bard—invited by Lord Valen. The air is already filled with lively music by the time I make my entry into the hall. I put on my persona—one I’ve perfected to please the masses, a mask that has efficiently erased my image as the crippled, wicked Prince of Caelondor, a name whispered across the continent. I smile, laugh, and greet people. It doesn’t matter who they are, they all get the same wide mouthed grin. They bow and curtsy. Others who are more touchy are removed by Alistair effortlessly. I don’t even sense her at first due to the shield. But she’s there, sitting on a chair behind the banquet table, hands clasped in her lap, looking ethereal in a golden and white gown. I forge
[MAGNUS]To His Highness, the Rightful Heir,Your Highness,I pray this letter reaches you in safe hands, for I write in desperate times. The kingdom you once called home trembles under the weight of the false king’s rule. His greed knows no bounds—lands are seized without cause, coffers are drained by insatiable taxation, and noble blood is spilled for the mere crime of questioning his judgment. Once-loyal houses now stand divided as their heirs are taken as hostages, their warriors forced to fight in unwinnable wars against territories that were never our enemies. Your father’s kingdom is on the brink of ruin. The people whisper of rebellion, but they lack a leader to rally behind. Many among the nobility look not to the throne in the capital, but to the exiled prince, the rightful ruler, the son of a true king. If you would return, you would not stand alone. There are those of us willing to defy the tyrant and restore honor to the crown, even if he refuses to name you heir, we nee
[ELARA]I find myself on the shore of the Cursed Gulf yet again. The sky above me is the colour of flames—golden, orange, streaks of yellow and black, the world tilted on its axis in my perspective. My feet are hidden beneath the sand, but I don’t panic. Yet, I still wonder. Why am I back here again? My dreams haven’t been plagued by the Soulkeeper in months. Not since Valen taught me how to stop acknowledging its presence. I know I didn’t sleep with poison beneath my pillow last night.And I still am here, trapped in this nightmare. This is not real, I tell myself, willingly for this to fade, for me to wake. But it doesn’t happen. I suppose I will have to endure. And so I do. The boiling water of the sea lashes on the shore with each wave until it freezes, a cold mist enveloping me. This time when the Soulkeeper comes on his cog, his face isn’t hidden. No, the hood is drawn back, and staring right into my soul is the one red eye of Valen Blackbane. And despite everything I know a