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A Blade Beneath the Crown
Huling Na-update:
2025-07-22 06:19:39
Pinakabagong kabanata
Her Enemy, His Curse Book Two-Chapter One: the blade below
LucianThe first time I saw her, she was nothing but defiance and blood.The second time, she was fire.Now—She’s something else.Something worse.Or better.Depending which side of the blade you stand on.She stood in the center of the tower chamber, robes soaked in light and shadow, and I couldn’t breathe. Not from fear. From the weight of knowing—She wasn’t mine anymore.Not entirely.She belonged to something older now. Older than courts. Older than kings. Older than death.And they knew it, too.The Hollowguard.The assassins beneath the court.The mirror that cracked without being touched.Even the gods hiding in their ruined temples—they knew.The Queen had returned.But she hadn't come back to rule.She’d come back to finish what the fire started.And if I was honest with myself—A part of me was afraid.Not of her.But of what I’d do if they tried to take her again.Because I’d seen the dagger. I’d felt it through the bond—venom-coated obsidian, forged under a blood moon.M
Her Enemy, His Curse The queen must die
LucianShe said it like a prayer.No—like a prophecy.“They’re going to try to kill me.”The air didn’t move after that. It froze.My hands curled before I could stop them, fists tightening at my sides. I didn’t ask her to repeat it. I didn’t doubt it for a second. The bond between us, once a thread, was now a burning cord through my ribs. And it flared the moment she spoke, heat licking up my spine like a warning.“Who?” I asked, voice low, teeth clenched to hold back the fury trembling behind it.Arielle didn’t look at me. She stared past me—through the mirror, through stone, through time. Her ceremonial robes still clung to her like silk chains, too heavy for her slender frame. Her reflection shimmered like it knew what she was becoming.“I don’t know their names,” she whispered. “But I felt them. Blood rites. Secrets. Rage.”I stepped toward her, slowly, as if she might vanish if I moved too fast. “Tell me what you need.”She looked at me then, and for a breath, I forgot how to st
Her Enemy, His Curse A Blade Beneath the Crown
They toasted her like a god.Raised silver goblets, knelt at her feet, vowed loyalty to the witch who returned from death.But not all of them meant it.Not truly.Not in the dark.Especially not in the dark.In the caverns beneath the ruined hall of the Old Blooded Court, the air was colder than it should’ve been. No torches. Just the scent of wet stone, mold, and ancient magic.Three shadows gathered around an obsidian altar, etched in runes too old for translation.“I saw her with my own eyes,” hissed the voice of the Winter envoy. “She didn’t walk out of the Temple. She crawled through it. You call that power? That’s a parasite, wearing her face.”“She silenced Prince Veyric with a flick of her hand,” murmured the envoy from Dusk Court. “No spell. No chant. She just looked at him.”“That’s not magic,” the third shadow said. “That’s possession.”The stone altar shimmered with blood—old offerings pulsing as if they heard every word.The Winter envoy leaned closer. “She shouldn’t be
Her Enemy, His Curse When Silence Fell
FentonThe war room was chaos.Accusations flew like knives. Alliances cracked. Every court had sent a mouth, and every mouth was screaming. No one listened. No one cared.“She's gone!” the Summer delegate shouted, face flushed and wild. “The Temple consumed her! The curse did not break—it merely changed form!”“She didn’t die,” I growled. “You don’t understand what you saw. None of you do.”“Then enlighten us, wolf,” snapped the Autumn Prince. “Tell us how you plan to lead without your little witch to whisper blood and prophecy in your ear.”The stone table between us vibrated, as if it too had grown tired of our voices.I stood slowly. “Mind your tone, your highness. You might live longer.”He sneered. “You think threats make you a ruler?”“No,” I said. “But she does.”He opened his mouth to reply——and the air shifted.The torches along the walls flickered once, then blazed with white fire. Banners stopped moving mid-ripple. Even the Hollowed chained outside the gates stilled, head
Her Enemy, His Curse And the World Knelt
The Temple died behind us.Its walls crumbled in slow silence, not like a ruin, but like something finally allowed to rest. The magic unraveled—gently, like a song ending—and the ground swallowed the bones that once paved its altar.Not a collapse.A burial.Lucian stood beside me, sword in hand, blood crusted down one arm. His breath came hard, but steady.He hadn’t looked away from me once.Not when my feet touched the earth again.Not when my voice broke the stillness like a strike of thunder and every Hollowed creature scattered into mist.Not even now, when the world shifted around us—trees bending inward, roots pulling back, birds falling silent.The drowned valley had changed.It knew me now.Recognized me the same way the Temple had.But this time, I didn’t flinch from it.I embraced it.Lucian reached for my hand. No magic flared. No curse burned. Just skin. Just breath. Just him.And still, the ground trembled beneath us.“Where do we go now?” he asked.I looked toward the c
Her Enemy, His Curse To light the way
The fire didn’t hurt.It stripped.Layer by layer—skin, memory, name.Pain was too small a word for what it did to me. This wasn’t agony. This was the truth. The kind that peeled back your soul and held it up to the light, daring you to look.I saw myself.Not in mirrors, but in echoes.A child with ash-streaked cheeks and wild eyes, stealing spells from locked rooms. A girl with too much power and not enough permission. A prisoner. A weapon. A lover. A liar. A key.I saw every moment that led me here.And I let it all go.The god reached inside me—not to take, but to unearth.Something older than the curse stirred in my blood, woken by the place, the magic, the sacrifice. A thread of divinity wound through my veins like molten gold.I didn’t scream.I opened.My bones shattered—then reformed.Hollow at first, like the wings of a bird not meant to walk. Then filled. With power. With purpose. With names that had never been spoken aloud.My blood turned to starlight.My lungs filled wit
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