In the kingdom of Varethia, where magic belongs to the elite and the mafia rules the shadows, Princess Elara Veyne has always been a pawn in a dangerous game of power. A prophecy binds her fate to an impossible choice—one must die for the other to thrive. When her betrothal to a powerful noble is announced, sealing her role as a political tool, Elara sees no escape. But fate has other plans. Enter Vesper Moretti, the ruthless heir to the underworld, feared for his deadly ambition and unyielding control. When he learns that their destinies are entwined by an ancient prophecy, he is left with a choice: claim her or destroy her. From the moment they meet as rivals, an explosive, undeniable attraction burns between them, one neither can afford to embrace. Bound by duty, secrets, and a forbidden desire, Elara and Vesper are forced into an uneasy alliance to uncover a hidden magical force that threatens the entire kingdom. But their greatest enemy is time—because as the prophecy looms closer, one must fall for the other to rise. When the line between love and power blurs, will they sacrifice their hearts—or each other?
View MoreThe atmosphere within the grand hall was thick with tension, every eye fixated on the two figures standing at the center. Selene’s heart raced as she tried to decipher the shifting glances around her. Her pulse quickened as a sense of betrayal settled like a weight in her chest.“You should have known,” whispered a voice from the shadows, its cold tone sending a shiver through her spine.The room fell silent as Damien stepped forward, his features shadowed in the dim light. His usual confidence had shifted to something darker, more foreboding. Selene’s eyes narrowed. She had trusted him, believed in their fragile alliance. But now, the truth was unraveling in front of her, threatening to tear apart everything she had worked toward.“You’ve been playing a dangerous game,” he continued, his voice low and filled with unspoken implications. “But you never once considered the cost.”“Damien, what are you talking about?” Selene demanded, her voice shaking despite her best efforts to remain
The cathedral trembled as darkness bled from the floor like ink in water—curling tendrils of shadow slithering up the walls, devouring the stained glass until the only light left was the glow pulsing from Elara’s veins.Dain shifted protectively in front of her, sword steady, but his voice carried a tremor. “This isn’t just magic. This is a realm crossing.”“Elara,” Kael said urgently, stepping beside her, “if they finish this ritual, their world won’t just touch ours—it’ll consume it.”Myrae smiled from the heart of the darkness, her hands raised, the sigils around her spiraling faster. “Let it consume,” she cooed. “Let it burn. Let the girl see the truth.”Elara stepped forward again.Kael grabbed her wrist. “You’re not ready.”“I wasn’t ready when I was chained,” she snapped, “or when my blood called to powers I didn’t understand. But I am now. I can feel it.”Her skin shimmered with celestial energy, the ancient markings etched into her now alive and reactive. She wasn’t a puppet
The silence after the clash was deafening.Ash rained from the sky, caught in the beams of fractured moonlight that filtered through the ruined cathedral roof. Elara stood still, the runes on her arms pulsing in defiance. Across from her, the cursed king knelt—no longer monstrous, but not yet man.His once-imposing figure trembled, weighed down by the magic unraveling from his bones.Kael tightened his grip on his sword, standing half a pace in front of her.“He’s still dangerous,” he said, voice low.“Everything about this is dangerous,” Dain added, emerging from the veil of smoke, his armor scorched, eyes wary.But Elara didn’t move.Her heart was pounding, not from fear—but recognition.Not of the face, which was barely visible through the shadow-clinging magic—but of the pain. The sorrow that clung to him, the echo of countless betrayals. She felt it humming through her blood like an old, broken chord that finally remembered how to sing.“He wasn’t always this,” she whispered, ste
The Cradle of Thorns loomed ahead, jagged and ancient—a fortress carved into a ravine of bramble-covered stone. The moon hovered low, pale and watchful, as if wary of the path Elara, Kael, and Dain now tread.Elara paused at the ravine’s edge, staring down into the yawning maw below. It was a place spoken of in whispers, where blood once soaked the roots and screams still echoed if you dared listen.“This place is cursed,” Dain muttered, stepping beside her. His cloak shifted with the breeze, revealing the twin blades strapped to his back. “I can feel it in my bones.”Kael crouched by the crumbling stone ledge, running a gloved hand over the ancient carvings. “These weren’t made by mortals. Not recently.”“No,” Elara said softly. “The crownless flame the oracle spoke of—it’s tied to this place. Buried beneath centuries of silence.”They moved in silence through the thorn maze, every step drawing blood or breath. The deeper they went, the more time unraveled. Shadows writhed unnaturall
Elara’s cloak billowed behind her as she stepped over the scorched stone, her boots echoing through the ruined council chamber. Smoke curled from broken walls, and the stench of magic still lingered—wild, untamed, and angry.Kael stood near the shattered throne, his silhouette tense, shadowed by moonlight that pierced through the fractured ceiling. He didn’t move as she approached.“You broke the barrier,” Elara said, voice low, steady. “The one that protected the last of the neutral lands.”His jaw clenched. “I had no choice.”“There’s always a choice.”“And yours?” he snapped, stepping forward. “Was it a choice to trust Dain after everything?”Her heart stammered. Not at the accusation—but at the truth laced within it. Dain’s absence since the betrayal had been deafening, and part of her feared what his silence meant. Part of her feared… he was no longer on her side.Kael’s voice softened. “I didn’t come here to argue. I came to offer something we’ve never had—honesty.”She stared a
The undercity of Vareth was a place forgotten by light. Dain moved through the crumbling ruins with practiced ease, each footfall muffled on moss-slick stone. The lantern in his hand flickered with violet flame—a warded fire that revealed magic, not shadow.His father’s notes had been precise. Three levels down, past the drowned catacombs. Look for the gate that bleeds light.He hadn’t expected the air to hum.It wasn’t sound exactly—more like the echo of a scream that had never stopped.Dain pressed forward, ignoring the dread slithering along his spine. Every instinct screamed at him to turn back. But he didn’t. Not when he was this close.A vault that could reshape destiny.A girl with magic in her blood.And a war older than the kingdoms above.He reached the third tier. The stones beneath his boots were blackened—scorched in a perfect ring. Old magic. Forbidden magic. The kind that didn’t just kill—it devoured.And then he saw it.The gate.An archway of stone, wrapped in thorned
Rain lashed against the ruined chapel like an army of ghosts, drenching the cracked stone and filling the silence with its endless rhythm. Elara’s body trembled from the visions still echoing in her mind—flashes of fire and bone, a broken crown, a bloodstained vow whispered in the dark.Kael hadn’t let go of her. His arms were firm around her, grounding her. But in his eyes, she saw it—the fear he couldn’t speak. He’d recognized the man, the power, and what it meant.“You saw the Vault,” Dain said, stepping closer. His voice was low, controlled. “Tell me what you saw, Elara. All of it.”She didn’t speak for a moment. Her gaze drifted to the altar, its glow now dimmed but still pulsing faintly, like a heartbeat buried deep beneath stone.“I saw a war,” she began slowly. “One that never truly ended. A woman—she wore my face, but older, tired. She held something… a key, shaped like flame and shadow. She locked something inside the Vault and whispered that it must never be opened.”Kael s
The forest was a breathing thing now—every tree pulse-thick with secrets, every shadow threatening to speak. Elara tightened her grip on the dagger Dain had given her, its obsidian blade humming faintly against her palm. The air buzzed, the kind of charged silence that preceded a scream.They had barely made it a mile from the Oracle’s chamber before the forest began to shift.“Stay close,” Kael muttered, his voice low and taut.Dain moved like a phantom beside him, eyes scanning the edges of the overgrown trail. “Something’s stalking us. It’s not trying to hide.”“I know,” Kael replied, his golden eyes flashing. “It wants us to know it’s coming.”A branch cracked behind them. Then another—closer. Elara turned just in time to see a blur—too tall for a man, too twisted for a beast.“Down!” Kael shouted.The creature lunged, and the clearing erupted into chaos. Steel clashed, magic flared—Kael’s blade igniting with golden fire, Dain moving in a deadly dance of precision. Elara ducked, s
The journey to the Oracle’s domain was unlike any Elara had faced. The forest grew darker the farther they went, its trees ancient and twisted, branches clawing at the sky like they were trying to pull it down.Mist clung to the ground, not soft but sharp—slicing through warmth and numbing her skin. The path bent unnaturally, and time seemed to stretch and bend with it. Even Kael looked unsettled.“She’s warded this place with soul magic,” Dain muttered. “It’s meant to unravel the mind before you reach her.”Elara pressed forward. “Then let’s make sure we get there before ours fall apart.”When they reached the mountain pass that housed the Oracle’s sanctum, a sudden stillness blanketed the land—no wind, no birds, not even breath. Just silence… and waiting.A rusted gate blocked the way, though no wall stood with it. A single phrase was etched into the arch in bloodstone: Only the Bound May Pass.Kael stepped forward, but the gate didn’t move.Elara’s fingers brushed it, and the metal
The ballroom was suffocating.Gold chandeliers dripped with candlelight, casting a warm glow over the sea of noblemen and courtiers who swayed in time with the music. The air was thick with the scent of jasmine and spiced wine, but beneath the perfume and luxury, Elara could smell something else—deception.She sat at the royal table, her posture poised, a delicate mask of indifference hiding the storm brewing inside her.Tonight was supposed to be a celebration—her father, King Aldric, had arranged this grand affair to solidify alliances, ensuring the throne’s continued power over Avarath. But Elara knew better. This wasn’t about unity.It was about control.“Princess, you’ve been quiet all evening.”Elara turned her head slightly at the voice. Duke Rathford, a man twice her age with wandering hands and an even more dangerous ambition, smirked at her from across the table.She forced a smile. “Just admiring the company, my lord.”His smirk widened, but before he could spew another tir...
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