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Bella
I, like many, feared The Beast. No one that had ever laid eyes on him had lived. I grew up hearing tales of the plagues that he had unleashed when his thirst wasn't satisfied. The last time was in 1470 BC. Those plagues mostly affected the Middle East, but all humans feared it could spread so they started selecting tributes to serve as sacrifices. All of my 28 years of life, I have been cursed with visions. They are snippets of the past intertwined with the present. I had been placed in institutions until one day I pretended to be cured. Because these visions only occur when I sleep it makes it easy to say that I was cured. Since my release, I have started sleeping less and less. Now my days are filled with paperwork and fetching coffee for Mr. Daniels. He is a crude and horrid man, but as long as his coffee is fresh and hot, I can avoid his wrath. I often daydream of a beautiful land teeming with wildlife and filled with joy. I long to be free, but that is a reality that will never be. However, one day my monotonous life took a bizarre turn. I brought in Mr. Daniels’ coffee as I had done for years but instead of him sitting behind his desk an eerily handsome man’s gaze met mine. I dropped the coffee as the man stood and said, “Seize her!” I tried to fight, but I was no match for the two strong men who grabbed me. The eerie man got up into my face. The putrid stench of his breath burned my nostrils and made my stomach churn. He ran his finger along my jaw before his hand wrapped around my throat and began to squeeze, “This one will do quite nicely.” Then everything went black as I was shrouded in the shadows of goodbye to all that I had ever known. After what must have been hours later, I awoke in an unfamiliar place. Fog surrounds me as hooded figures chant in a strange language. I try to move but I can't because my arms and legs are tied to a boulder with weird cravings in it. I try to scream but my voice comes out as a mere whisper. Shadows dance on the walls of this desolate cave before the ground begins to shake. The hooded figures fall to their knees and keep their eyes on the trembling ground. I am going to die. This is how my life ends. An enormous muscular figure rises from the dark rift that formed from the cracks in the ground beside me. His black wings unfurled and sparkled like a black diamond. His chiseled features were borderline cruel, but his eyes…there was something familiar about his steely gray eyes. I was struck with a mix of emotions but fear surprisingly wasn't among them. I knew that I was going to die at the hands of The Beast, but yet I welcomed it. For reasons that I can't explain, my life suddenly felt meaningless. The Beast roared, “Offering accepted,” before his clawed finger slashed my bindings. The Beast was a huge winged creature with horns and piercing red eyes. He was the devil and we all knew the price if we crossed him. My life would spare humanity until he came to collect again. Before everything went black, all I remember was touching his face with my hand and seeing a heartbreaking sadness in his eyes. There in the arms of The Beast, I awaited a death that never came. As I let the shadowy darkness comfort me, I said goodbye to my mundane life of slaving away in a stuffy office, of the pain of loneliness, of the heartache of never being enough.The grand dining hall, usually a bastion of refined elegance, had, in the weeks since the Confluence, devolved into a delightful cacophony. Breakfasts were now less a meal and more a strategic operation. Lyraeus, ever the picture of regal composure, still managed to eat his perfectly portioned moon-fruit while engaging Edward in a discourse on inter-dimensional trade routes. Sylas, nestled by the largest window, communed silently with a particularly stubborn patch of moss growing between the flagstones, occasionally offering a cryptic murmur about "the whispers of the earth."And then there were Vincent and Kaelen. “No, no, no!” Kaelen declared, her fiery hair practically sparking as she wrestled a piece of roasted boar from Vincent’s plate. “You eat the crust first! It’s the best part!”“That&
He grinned sheepishly, nudging a displaced suit of armor back into place with his foot. “Just a minor… realignment. Kaelen! Are you hiding?”A mischievous giggle floated down from the upper balcony. “Found you!” Kaelen dropped from the railing, landing with a soft *thud* right in front of Vincent, her fiery hair a blur of orange and gold. She was wearing practical leather trousers and a tunic, a quiver of arrows slung over her back. “Ready to get your backside handed to you, big guy?” she challenged, a glint in her amber eyes. Vincent let out a mock growl. “You wish, Wildling! I’ve been practicing my new move!” He lunged, but she was quicker, sidestepping him with a laugh. “Too slow, buttercup!” she taunted, then darted away, leading him in a chase through the hall. Max entered from the opposite end, a large chunk of venison bone in his hand, gnawing on it contentedly. He watched the spectacle, a deep, rumbling laugh escaping him. “They’re good for each other, Bella. Keeps him on h
I winced. “My apologies. Vincent can be… enthusiastic.” “On the contrary,” Lyraeus said, a thoughtful expression on his face. “There is a certain… freedom in it. A raw, unburdened joy that is rare in my court. It is… disarming. And Ara seems to thrive on it. She even joined him, briefly, before remembering her royal decorum.” “She needed that,” I said softly. “She carries a lot of responsibility.” “She does. And she carries it with grace that astounds me. She is a queen born, Bella. And she is everything I never knew I sought.” His eyes, usually so serious, held a depth of affection that was truly beautiful. “Thank you for raising such a remarkable daughter.” Regina’s mate, Sylas, was a creature of quiet wonder. He moved with the rustle of leaves, his voice a soft murmur that seemed to come from the very earth. He rarely spoke unless it was truly necessary, preferring to communicate through subtle gestures and the ancient language of the forest. This made him a fascinating counter
Vincent’s jaw dropped, then a laugh, louder and more joyful than any I had ever heard from him, burst forth. “Bored? You look like you’ve been wrestling a griffin!” She snorted, a flash of fire in her eyes. “Only because there weren’t any dragons around! You look like you need a good run!” He took a step forward, his eyes alight with pure delight. “Oh, I think we’re going to get along just fine.” She launched herself at him, not in an embrace, but in a playful tackle. He caught her, a surprised grunt escaping him, and they tumbled to the ground, laughing, a tangled heap of wild energy. The solemnity of the Confluence was shattered, replaced by an infectious wave of mirth. The assembled Fae, initially shocked, soon joined in the laughter, a collective sigh of relief and amusement. This was Vincent’s mate, indeed. She was his chaos, his challenge, his perfect match. Edward, Noah, and Max stood by me, their faces alight with pride and a shared understanding. Edward’s hand found
Her eyes closed, a profound concentration on her face. Then, with a deep breath, she plunged her hand into the light. The vortex pulsed, and from its depths, a figure began to coalesce. He emerged, tall and regal, his skin like polished obsidian, his hair a cascade of silver that shimmered with starlight. His eyes, though dark, held a piercing intensity, and a faint, intricate pattern of glowing runes adorned his cheekbones. He wore robes of midnight silk, adorned with constellations. He was a Dark Fae, but one of immense power and ancient lineage. Ara’s eyes flew open, wide with a mixture of shock and recognition. He was a king, certainly, but his aura was one of shadows and starlight, not the bright, diplomatic light she might have expected. He took a step towards her, his voice a low, resonant baritone that sent shivers down my spine. “Ara. You are the light I have sought in the deepest darkness.” Ara, for the first time in her life, seemed speechless. He reached for her han
I laughed, a genuine, unburdened sound. “Vincent, your mate will be anything but boring. The Confluence draws out the perfect complement, not a carbon copy.” He sighed, dropping the sword with a clang. “Right. So, no more wrestling in the mud? No more late-night hunts?” “Perhaps with your mate, you’ll find new adventures,” I offered, a smile playing on my lips. He looked at me, his eyes earnest. “I just want someone who laughs loud. Someone who doesn’t mind getting dirty. Someone who understands that sometimes, a good roar is better than a thousand words.” I embraced him, pressing a kiss to his brow. “Then that is precisely what the Confluence will bring you.” As the moon cycle waned, the Fae kingdoms stirred. Messengers arrived daily, their wings shimmering with dew, bearing news of their own heirs preparing for the sacred journey. Edward and I spent hours in council, discussing potential alliances, the strengths and weaknesses of various Fae houses. The weight of our legacy





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