ARAHShe hadn't found a vase yet, so she just kept the flowers in her room. She ran her fingers over the soft violet petals so often that their sweet, exotic scent now clung to her hair and skin. These definitely weren't from a regular flower shop. Where did Gildeon find these?But it didn't really matter. If anything, not knowing made these flowers feel even more special. She carefully placed the bouquet on her bed and turned to get dressed, choosing the fanciest dress in her wardrobe. Slipping it on, she felt the soft fabric glide over her skin. She inspected her reflection in the mirror, flashing a satisfied smile. The soft pink on her lips matched the blush on her cheeks, enhancing the vibrant blue of her eyes and the curls she had pinned back.This would be their first real date night, not counting any they might’ve had before the accident. So tonight, she wanted to make an effort. She wanted to look good.The dress hugged her perfectly, revealing a bit of midriff and her owl-cou
ARAHWhatever qualms she had about Gildeon were out the window for now.He slung his arm around her from behind, pulling her close. She gasped as his hardness pressed into her back. They shared a brief moment of silent understanding. Sex was too soon, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t do other things to pleasure her. Just the thought sent a bubble of excitement through Arah, her heart pumping in anticipation.Her head rested against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, steady at first, then faster with each passing second. The power of it enveloped her body like a sweet embrace.Gildeon buried his nose in her hair, inhaling deeply, making her shiver. “You smell incredible,” he muttered. In the reflection, she saw his strong jaw working as if he were struggling to control his lust for her.His other hand squeezed her breast, kneading it firmly, eliciting a loud gasp from her.He paused. “Too hard?” His voice was husky, his head tilting as if to search her eyes for any sign of discomfo
GILDEONHis fingers slowed, holding her on the brink. The air thrummed, eager to merge with her. He hadn’t expected her power to manifest with such intensity just from his touch. But he found a way to control it, to keep Arah in check.“Arah?” he whispered, but she was lost, eyes shut tight. He continued stroking her in a calculated way, the hem of her skirt brushing his hand, his wrist grinding against her ass with every thrust. Her hips matched his rhythm. Each squirm, each moan drove him wild, barely containing the bulge in his pants.But tonight wasn’t about him. This was all for her.“Gildeon, please...” she begged. He risked it, pushing her to the verge of insanity.Her body trembled, walls spasming around his fingers. He watched her face contort, blue eyes fluttering in silent ecstasy. He ached to kiss her but nuzzled her ear instead, holding back his own desire.He felt it—tension coiling, ready to snap. Her desperate moans and fingers tugging at his hair pushed him to work fa
ARAHShe noticed Gildeon's eyes lingering on the scar-nosed woman. Searching his gaze, she asked, “Do you know her?”“No,” he replied, then nodded at the menu. “What do you want to get?”She was taken aback by his quick, dismissive reaction but wondered if she was reading too much into it. Lowering her eyes to the menu, she skimmed over the dishes and pointed to one. “Hmm… this salmon dish right here. I just can’t pronounce the name,” she said, wincing. She caught Gildeon stifling a smile.A server approached, sensing they were ready to order. Gildeon took care of the rest while her eyes feasted on the restaurant's interior. She’d never been to a place this classy—or at least, not in the time she could remember. The lights above resembled giant pearls caged in coral reefs, casting a warm glow across the room. She thought about getting one for her studio, hoping it wouldn’t be too expensive.The walls felt alive with lush ferns and vibrant orchids mounted on panels of neat wood slats.
GILDEONHe stilled, masking his reaction with an innocent frown. Arah's gaze bore into him as he watched the short clip. He doubted she knew anything, but he couldn't take any chances. Behind him, he sensed Ghulik trying to slink away.‘Where do you think you’re going?’ he growled internally. The goblin squeaked, freezing.“M-Master, Ghulik will go guard the witch,” he stammered. “Ghulik will protect Master and Sylph Lady.”‘Stay,’ he ordered darkly, replaying the video clip for show. ‘I’ll deal with you later.’“Ghulik made a mistake,” he groveled dramatically. “Forgive Ghulik, Master!”Ignoring the goblin, Gildeon handed the phone back to Arah, noting the dark gleam in her blue eyes.“So, what do you make of it?” she asked, her tone curious and probing.He leaned back, drumming his fingers on the table, pretending to think. “Hard to tell,” he said, jerking his head slightly. “Video quality’s subpar. It could be anything. A prop, a device, a trick of the eye.”“They said it might be
GILDEONRoselia had pinpointed the witch’s last known location around the area. He'd scouted the place earlier, but without Arah, flushing the witch out would’ve been a challenge—hence, the date night.His plan had worked. He managed to lure in the enemy while making Arah warm up to him. Two birds with one stone, as the saying goes. The only thing he hadn’t expected was that damn footage putting him in a surprising spot.“How did you sense her so fast?” he demanded sharply, locking the witch’s arm in an iron grip as they walked past the grand viewing deck behind the restaurant. He needed to find someplace without a crowd.“What do you mean, handsome?” she asked, her voice dripping with mock innocence.“Answer me truthfully,” he hissed. He could’ve easily killed the witch right here if it weren't for these people. He glanced up, ensuring there was only one CCTV, and it was facing the deck.Fucking cameras.“Oh, I was actually tailing the blondes at first,” the witch explained, tossing
ARAHShe didn’t wait for Gildeon. Her heart felt heavy as she walked out of the restaurant. Had she stayed, she would’ve grilled him about that woman, and he would’ve lied again, stringing together some smart words just to make her shut up.The thought of her husband doing who-knows-what with that scar-nosed woman gnawed at her. Distasteful images started to creep into her mind. She pushed the thoughts away as she wandered through town, trying to distract herself.Every now and then, she stopped, feeling like someone was watching or following her. She thought maybe it was just the cold, so she ducked into a clothing shop and bought a random jacket. She also grabbed a pair of flip-flops to replace her heels that were killing her feet.With the paper bag swinging from her arm, she continued her stroll until she ended up in the amusement park. She wished Gildeon were here with her. This could’ve been the perfect end to the night if he hadn’t ruined it. Though in hindsight, didn’t she als
ARAHEverything was hazy and happening so fast. She was riding something warm and alive, with feathers—like a bird. She waved her hand, throwing a spear downward without touching it. She killed someone. She couldn't see who it was. And then Gildeon. It was a blur, but she saw him on a horse in the distance, staring at her. She heard her own voice whispering, "You came, just as planned," before feeling a sudden shake, the vision dissolving abruptly.“Miss, are you okay?” A woman’s voice snapped her out of her daze, a hand on her shoulder. It was the little girl’s mom.Arah blinked and nodded, trying to collect herself. “Yes, I’m fine,” she said reassuringly, a shaky smile on her lips. “Just had a mild headache.”Inside, she trembled. Was that really a memory? She couldn’t wrap her head around killing someone—with a spear and while riding a bird, no less.Her mind reeled.“Do you want us to call for help?” the mom’s voice jolted her again.She shook her head. “No need, thanks.” She put
ARAHFear coiled around her ribs like a vice.“I-it’s me,” she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath.Gildeon didn’t flinch. His lips remained curled back, exposing sharp teeth. His expression was predatory, enraged. In his eyes, she was someone else—an enemy.What had Drusden done to him?She tried to choke out his name again, but her throat tightened, the pressure crushing her windpipe. Her pulse pounded—a frantic drumbeat against his grip. The steam curling from his scaled body rolled over her in suffocating, blistering waves.How the hell was she supposed to stop this?Through tear-blurred eyes, Arah caught a flicker of movement—an outline shifting, pulsing like a mirage behind Gildeon. Her eyes widened as she remembered her creature-helper.Gildeon hissed, his body tensing as his free hand shot back, claws poised to seize whatever had latched onto him. The creature clung to his neck, jaws clenched, its form flickering in and out of focus.The grip around Arah’s throat sl
ARAHDays passed. Drusden had recovered, but he remained at Roselia’s farmhouse.Roselia taught him about the old world and the ways of hedge witches. Drusden then hunted the dark witch responsible for the devastation—and eventually killed him.Together, they worked to cleanse the village of its plague and heal the people.Arah witnessed something shift between Roselia and Drusden. It was likely during this time that they began developing feelings for each other.Drusden also bonded with young Alaunus, though their connection was anything but paternal. He spoke to Alaunus about mankind’s corruption and the rewards of embracing a higher power as a witch.Roselia noticed it too, and Arah was sure it bothered her.Then came the day Drusden told Roselia everything—about Zephyr, about the vision of an army—an elite force of witches transformed into higher mortals meant to help Zephyr rule over Earthland.Arah wouldn’t have been surprised if Roselia had kept this knowledge even from Gildeon
ARAHTo say this was a massive shock would be an understatement. The idea of a lower mortal becoming a higher mortal was probably the last thing she had ever expected to hear.How could that even be possible? Flying to Shamibar in Zylas’s dragon form was already mind-blowing. But the idea of altering the very nature of a mortal by merely passing through the Mad End’s Wall? That was a whole different realm of insanity.No matter how she tried to make sense of it, the logic eluded her. Unless Zephyr was lying to Drusden. Maybe the sylph simply said whatever he needed to get what he wanted.“It’s the only thing that makes sense,” she whispered.In the next memory, Zephyr was gone. Arah barely had time to take in her surroundings before Drusden crumpled to the ground. Blood seeped from his ear as he fought to stay conscious.The stench hit her—a suffocating, sickly blend of rotting meat, unwashed bodies, and the sharp tang of smoke. She swallowed hard against the bile rising in her throat
ARAHThe next memory swept her onto the battlements, where she had a clear view of the invasion unfolding below. This was a different place, a different time. A different nation. The people spoke in foreign tongues.Men in ragged clothing, their faces twisted with barbaric fury, slaughtered civilians with swords and axes. Limbs were severed, bodies crumpled in pools of blood. Women screamed as they were dragged away—some ruthlessly stripped of their clothes, preyed upon by these animals. Children’s throats were slit without hesitation.Arah grimaced in horror at every atrocity, her stomach churning. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to forget—to block out the carnage. But every anguished scream, every whispered prayer of the helpless, cut through her like a blade, carving into her heart and twisting her gut.Zephyr’s voice interrupted her thoughts.“Look at them,” he said to Drusden as he stood on the parapet ledge, gazing down at the massacre below. “Look at how your kind d
ARAHZephyr brought Drusden to Yonah’s temple. And as she had with Marianne, Arah watched Drusden enter the Dark Plane with Zephyr’s help. It took longer this time, and at one point, she thought Drusden would die right there on his knees.When Drusden snapped back to consciousness, his palms slapped against the stone floor. His breath came in ragged gasps, sweat beading on his forehead. His skin was ghostly pale, his wide eyes unfocused—like a man who had stared into the abyss and seen something stare back.“What have you sacrificed, human?” Zephyr asked, crouching before him.Drusden slowly lifted his head, fat tears streaming down his cheeks. “My spirit will live on even after death,” he said softly. “I will never be able to reunite with my family.”Arah couldn’t begin to imagine the misery Drusden would endure for the price he paid.A small smile appeared on Zephyr’s lips. “For that sacrifice, the power you obtained must be great. Show me.”Without a word, Drusden exhaled, and a bi
ARAHAnother death was reported—a woman who sold milk and eggs, saving every coin to buy medicine for her bedridden father.Arah watched as Drusden slammed his fists onto the desk, sending a quill and inkpot rattling, scrolls tumbling to the floor. His jaw tightened, nostrils flaring as he ducked his head, a muscle ticking in his temple. Even his men, though silent, shared his frustration.She still didn’t know how the deaths were connected to the ministers, but she believed in Drusden’s suspicions. This whole thing reeked of injustice. And more than anything, she wanted to see what he would do about it.The next day, Drusden and his men arrived at one of the ministers’ workshops. The place reeked of ink and damp parchment—likely the very goods being produced here.“Y-you shouldn’t be here, Inspector,” one of the workshop guards stammered, his face pale. “The ministers won’t take kindly to this.”Drusden barely spared him a glance. “I’m not here for their kindness, boy,” he said sharp
ARAHDrusden looked almost the same as he did in the present—just younger. His brown hair was longer, and his face was more open, easier to read. There was no trace of his usual smugness. Instead, he was serious. Dutiful. His tone lacked the usual edge of playfulness she had grown so used to.How could he be the same Drusden, yet different at the same time? Maybe witch power really could change people after all.She followed Drusden through the streets until he stopped in front of a small house. Sympathy softened his features as he spoke to the victim’s wife. Inside, four children sat around a table—faces thin, clothes worn—with nothing but bowls of plain porridge in front of them.Arah felt a tug in her chest. It was obvious they weren’t eating enough. And now, with their provider gone, how would they survive?“I am deeply sorry,” Drusden said.The woman broke down, shoulders trembling as she wept.Drusden’s gaze flickered to the children, their wide eyes full of questions they were
ARAHIt was up to her to pull him out of it.The weight of that realization pressed down on Arah like a boulder. She was determined—of course, she was—but how was she supposed to do it? The thought of failing, of not being enough to help Gildeon, curled around her ribs like a vice.She shook her head, shoving the doubt aside. This wasn’t the time for uncertainty. Gildeon needed her, and that was all that mattered.She sprinted down the prison hallway, dodging jagged chunks of fallen stone and splintered beams. Behind her, the sounds of battle raged—Roselia and Lokius locked in a deadly clash.Then, a sharp cry of pain.Roselia.Arah faltered, her body twisting instinctively toward the sound. Every fiber of her being screamed at her to turn back, to help. But she knew Roselia wouldn’t want that. She wouldn’t forgive Arah for wasting time—not when Gildeon’s life hung in the balance.Gritting her teeth, Arah forced her feet forward.Outside, the fog wall loomed before her—a towering, imp
GILDEONIn a blink, he was back in Drusden’s throne room. He dropped to his knees, palms flat on the cold floor, breath ragged. He hadn’t even realized he’d shifted back to his mortal form. His chest tightened, a storm of emotions threatening to tear free.His mysterious birth mother. His father’s death…He slammed his palms against the floor, frustration boiling over. Haemos and Kohina knew who he really was. Why the fuck had they kept it from him?Footsteps. Brown boots halted in front of him—Drusden’s. The Headwitch crouched, head tilted.“If you need a shoulder to cry on, mine’s available, salamander,” Drusden mocked.Gildeon’s glare burned as he met the bastard’s smug face.“Not gonna lie. Your father’s memory might be my favorite one I’ve delved into.” Drusden paced, dragging from his cigarette. “Learned a lot about your kind. Shame we never got the real answer about your mother.”He stopped, gaze lifting to Dragon Zylas as he exhaled a slow stream of smoke. “I really thought I’