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Defiant Shadows
Last Updated:
2025-12-21 17:11:00
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Bride Of Eldoria Kael
Elara’s POV.The palace changes the instant Lyriel says the name.One moment the corridors are quiet, dim violet light and distant echoes.The next, alarms ring through the stone like screaming bells—deep, bone-rattling chimes that make the moonflowers wilt and Sael’s fur bristle with real flame.Guards pour from every archway, wings and claws and blades flashing.Lockdown.The word ripples through the air like a command.Lyriel grabs my wrist, wings flaring wide.“We have to move. Now.”We run.Sael races ahead, yipping warnings at corners.Behind us, the shadows on the walls twist and stretch, reaching.I feel them—cold fingers brushing the back of my neck.We burst into my chambers.Lyriel slams the door and presses both palms to it.Runes flare silver across the wood, sealing it.She leans there, breathing hard.“He’s inside,” she whispers. “Kael is inside the palace.”My blood turns to ice.“How?”“Impossible,” she says, voice shaking. “Draven wove barriers c
Bride Of Eldoria Defiant Shadows
Defiant Shadows.Draven.The night after the walkI stand in the courtyard long after she disappears inside.The false stars above me pulse like they’re mocking my heartbeat.I told her to go to her chambers before I did something we would both regret.I lied.The regret is already here, gnawing at the edges of everything I thought I had buried.She laughed at dinner.Not the polite, hollow sound the court makes. A real laugh —short, surprised, bright as a blade.It caught me off guard so completely I nearly dropped my glass.I have not heard anyone laugh like that in centuries.I hate her for it.I hate myself more for noticing.I finally force my feet to move.The corridors are empty, silver torches flickering low. My boots echo too loud. Shadows trail me like obedient hounds.Except one.One shadow lingers at the corner where her corridor branches off, stretching longer than it should, darker than the rest.I stop.It does not.I narrow my eyes.“Return,” I command.The shadow quiv
Bride Of Eldoria The Long Table
The Long Table Elara The evening after the court confrontationLyriel leads me back to the chambers she prepared earlier —the ones with the starlit bath and midnight silk bed. Sael, the fox cub, trots at my heels, yipping every time his tiny paws slip on the polished obsidian floor.The door shuts behind us.I lean against it and finally let my knees shake.Lyriel watches me with those fractured-glass eyes, wings folded tight.“You were magnificent,” she says quietly. “Reckless. But magnificent.”I laugh, it comes out brittle.“Magnificent gets me threatened with ruin and ashes.”She tilts her head. “It also gets you noticed. The court has not been this alive in centuries.”Before I can answer, lightning crackles in the air.Mireth materializes in the middle of the room, hair wilder than before, smelling of ozone and satisfaction.“My ferocious girl!” she crows, sweeping me into a hug that smells like rain on hot stone. “The entire kingdom is talking about you. You cal
Bride Of Eldoria Damned Traditions
Damned Traditions.Elara—I wake to lightning and fresh bread.The door is wide open. Violet dawn spills across moonflowers that weren’t there when I fell asleep. A woman stands in the doorway balancing a silver tray like she’s about to declare war with pastries.Tall, wild silver-black hair crackling, eyes like colliding galaxies, gown made of living stormclouds.“Good morning, my ferocious little star!” she sings. “I am Mireth, queen of this gloomy pile, and your new mother whether you like it or not. Eat before you faint and ruin my plans.”I sit up slowly. “You’re the queen?”“Guilty. Also part-time goddess of minor chaos. Sit. Eat. Tell me how you made moonflowers grow in a tomb.”She notices the bruises on my wrists.Lightning snaps across her knuckles.“Who chained you?” she asks, voice suddenly soft and deadly.“Everyone,” I answer.“Names,” she says. “I collect them for kindling.”I spill everything —throne room, blood ritual, my father’s new title, Seraphine’s engagement, t
Bride Of Eldoria Caged
CAGED.Draven’s POVI have done this ninety-nine times.Ninety-nine cages rolled through my gates.Ninety-nine trembling girls in white.Ninety-nine times I have looked at them and seen Aveline’s ghost wearing a new face.Tonight is the hundredth.And I am already breaking.I stand on the balcony of the west wing, claws digging into obsidian stone hard enough to leave grooves. Below, the procession winds through the outer courtyard like a funeral made of moonlight. The cage-wagon is beautiful (black iron gilded to hide the bars). The girl inside is a blade of ivory and silver fury.I watched her arrive.I watched her lift her chin and tell me to kill her quickly.I laughed —gods help me, I laughed because no one has ever looked at me like that. Not in a thousand years.Not since Aveline begged me to run with her instead.I sent the girl to the worst room because I am a coward.The west wing is a ruin (walls cracked from the last time Kael and I tried to murder each other, windows shat
Bride Of Eldoria Kingdom Of Eldoria
Chapter 8Kingdom Of Eldoria ElaraNine days.Nine days in a stone box beneath Highmont Palace where the only light is a torch that never quite reaches the corners.Nine days of chains that burn cold, of water that tastes of rust, of bread hard enough to break teeth.Nine days of silence so complete I start talking to the black scale just to remember my own voice.It answers, sometimes.Not in words. In heat. In pressure against my ribs like a second heart trying to crawl out.I keep replaying the throne room.Every face. Every cheer. Every lie.Most of all, I replay my family.Father’s voice, ringing false: My daughter volunteers herself…Mother’s perfect tears that never smudged her paint.Seraphine’s sapphire tiara already gleaming in her hair like she was born to wear it.Isla whispering my name until the doors shut.On the fourth day a guard shoves a broadsheet under the cell door.I unroll it with shaking fingers.The headline is in letters an inch tall:GENERAL WYNNE APPOINTE
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