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When the world waits

Penulis: Holland Ross
last update Terakhir Diperbarui: 2025-08-02 17:10:26

Arielle

The stars dimmed.

Not vanished. Not gone.

But quiet—like they, too, were holding their breath.

I felt it in my bones, in my blood: the stillness before change. The hush before the storm.

Lucian’s hand was still in mine, fingers woven like we’d done it for years instead of minutes. His shadows wrapped loosely around us, soft as dusk. My fire had banked to an ember-glow, but it still burned, deep and slow and sure beneath my skin.

We were no longer two.

We were no longer cursed.

The Tower had seen it. Blessed it. Or maybe feared it.

Because something was shifting now.

Beneath the stone.

Above the sky.

Inside us.

I sat up slowly, drawing the silk sheet around me like armor, even as my body still sang from his touch. From the vow sealed not in blood—but in choice.

Lucian watched me with that unreadable look again. Half reverence. Half possession. All his.

“I feel them,” I murmured, the words coming like a confession. “The Council. The others. It’s like they’re waking.”

“They are,”
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  • Her Enemy, His Curse   When the witch queen arrived

    LucianThe crown of fire had barely settled on her brow when the world tore open.Not a crack.A rending.Like reality itself flinched from what it was about to witness.The veil between realms split, not with a scream, but with a silence so absolute it sucked the breath from the chamber. The stars blinked out overhead, one by one. As if they dared not watch.I moved in front of Arielle without thinking. My shadows surged, but they didn’t feel like enough. Nothing ever did when it came to her.Theron backed into the wall, fingers twitching around the hilt of a blade I knew he’d never reach in time.And through the jagged seam in the air—She stepped.Morganna.No title.No warning.No need.Because she was her own herald.She wore a gown of midnight and teeth, shadows stitched into velvet, blood glinting at the hem. Her hair flowed like liquid ink, threaded with bones small enough to be fae, human, or both. Her eyes—gods, her eyes—were lanterns lit with spite.And when they landed on

  • Her Enemy, His Curse   When the world waits

    ArielleThe stars dimmed.Not vanished. Not gone.But quiet—like they, too, were holding their breath.I felt it in my bones, in my blood: the stillness before change. The hush before the storm.Lucian’s hand was still in mine, fingers woven like we’d done it for years instead of minutes. His shadows wrapped loosely around us, soft as dusk. My fire had banked to an ember-glow, but it still burned, deep and slow and sure beneath my skin.We were no longer two.We were no longer cursed.The Tower had seen it. Blessed it. Or maybe feared it.Because something was shifting now.Beneath the stone.Above the sky.Inside us.I sat up slowly, drawing the silk sheet around me like armor, even as my body still sang from his touch. From the vow sealed not in blood—but in choice.Lucian watched me with that unreadable look again. Half reverence. Half possession. All his.“I feel them,” I murmured, the words coming like a confession. “The Council. The others. It’s like they’re waking.”“They are,”

  • Her Enemy, His Curse   What the flame remembers

    ArielleThe chamber they gave us wasn’t a room.It was a sanctum.No walls. No doors. Only smoke and starlight—and the endless hum of power that came with belonging to the Tower now. The Trial Masters were below, beginning their descent into ruin or glory. The Tower had made its choices.And so had I.Lucian stood with his back to me, half in shadow, half in light. The ash-slick rune on his spine still shimmered, pulsing to the rhythm of a second heartbeat—mine.The bond hadn’t quieted. If anything, it had deepened into something… breathless. Not painful, not yet. But close. Like we were both holding something inside we didn’t yet know how to name.“You haven’t said anything,” I whispered.“I don’t know what it would be,” he said without turning. “Words feel… too mortal.”“They are.”He finally turned to face me.And my heart did something ancient.Because he wasn’t just Lucian anymore.His eyes still held the storm I loved. But the edges of him had hardened, shaped by something colde

  • Her Enemy, His Curse   The heartless and hopeful

    LucianThe Tower had no heart. But it had memory.And in the dark between one stair and the next, it remembered me.It knew what I was.What I’d done.What I would become.I’d thought the dagger was the price. I was wrong. The price was me.Each step of the climb had peeled back a layer I thought I'd buried deep: my rage, my grief, my guilt. Each stair made me bleed in ways that had nothing to do with skin.I no longer knew what waited at the top only that she was there.ArielleThe moment Lucian crossed the threshold, the world staggered.Not trembled—staggered. As if it had held its breath for too long and was only now remembering how to exhale.The Tower dimmed. The torches flared, then snuffed themselves one by one. Darkness did not fall. It descended—like royalty.Lucian stood at the top of the stairway, silhouetted in it. Raw. Ripped open. His shirt was gone, and across his chest, ancient symbols burned like firebrands. Not from magic. From meaning.He wasn’t just carrying the d

  • Her Enemy, His Curse   The blade between us

    LucianThe path back wasn't a path at all.It was memory.Pain and power braided together like the twisted strands of the dagger’s hilt. Every step I took echoed with something ancient, something watching. The blade hadn’t stopped whispering since I claimed it. It didn’t speak in words anymore.It remembered.Every betrayal ever carved in bone.Every lover turned weapon.Every king who fell to his knees before it, and every god who bled because he didn’t.It wasn’t just judging me now.It was teaching me.And I—I was listening.The door reformed behind me when I emerged, not with stone, but with silence. The kind that pressed against your chest and demanded reverence. The Tower was waiting.But not for me.Her.Arielle.I didn’t have to see her to feel the shift. The air above was burning cold, the kind of heat that scalded from the inside out. The kind that transformed.My heart stuttered. Then beat again, harder.She was choosing her court.And if they failed—They’d die for it.Th

  • Her Enemy, His Curse   Temperance of the Dagger

    LucianThe door didn’t open.It breathed.A pulse—slow, ancient, wrong—throbbed through the obsidian surface like a heartbeat with no body to house it. The runes beneath my feet lit dimly, one by one, as if some old language was remembering how to speak again. I didn’t have to touch the stone.It touched me.The burn started in my palm, racing up my veins like fire laced with ice. Not pain. Not quite. But the sense that if I let go, if I gave this magic an inch—It would take everything.“Why are you here?” the woman asked again, voice deeper now, layered with something not human.Not even divine.“What do you seek in the belly of gods?”I stared at the crescent-marked door and said the only thing that mattered.“Arielle.”The shadows parted.The door did not open in the usual sense. It simply... ceased to exist.And beyond it—darkness.Not absence.Presence.The kind that watched.I stepped inside.The scent of iron grew thick. Not fresh blood.Old blood. Sacred blood. Spilled in sac

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