E L E A N O R
"Be safe, Tobias." I say for the umpteenth time as I adjust my husband’s armor, brushing off bits of barely visible dust from his shoulder pads as a way to keep him from mounting his horse too quickly. His men watch us, their faces cast in shadows of worry, weighed down by the gravity of our situation. This war—this conflict—I desperately wished he wouldn’t engage in. It wasn’t that I was the type of wife to hold my husband back from his ambitions; I simply couldn’t bear the thought of losing him, especially since our marriage was just a year old. Tobias was next in line for my father’s throne, his shoulders—the very ones I kept tapping—heavy with responsibilities that often placed the needs of the people above those of his own family. "I will, I will." He laughs, leaning closer to seize my lips with a mind-blowing kiss. I feel his smile against my mouth as his tongue dances with mine, igniting a moment of sensory bliss. The kiss is brief, though, and he pulls back to envelop me in a warm embrace. "I'll miss you, really. I promise to write as soon as we arrive at camp, okay?" "Hmm," I hum in response, a flicker of concern lurking in the depths of my heart. With a long sigh, he gently pulls away and retrieves his wedding ring, smiling down at me as he places it firmly in the center of my palm, wrapping my fingers around it. I look up at him, tears brimming in my eyes. "What are you doing?" "Just give it back to me when I return, alright?" He raises an eyebrow playfully. My hands tremble, but I push aside my fears. He won’t die. He'll return, and then I can give it back to him. I nod, speechless. He hugs me again, presses a soft kiss into my hair, and in moments, he’s mounted on his horse, leading his men away. "I love you, El!" he shouts, nudging his horse into a gallop. "I love you too!" I call back, running after him for as long as I can. I finally stop, watching him vanish into the distance, clutching his ring tightly in my fist while wiping the hot tears from my cheeks. I hear footsteps approaching, crunching dry leaves in the palace grounds. A soft, minty scent follows, and I recognize it as Dora’s, my personal maid. Turning to meet her gaze, I see a bright smile on her lips, wrinkles framing her face. Taking a deep breath, I sprint into her arms, sobbing helplessly. "Hush now, dear. He'll be back soon," she whispers, gently patting my hair. "I know, I just miss him," I manage to say through sniffles and laughter. As he promised, his letter arrives a few days later. I read it over and over, smiling at his cheeky remarks about thinking of me and wishing for the war to end so he can return home. The third day finds me once again examining his wedding ring while preparing at the vanity table. Keeping it locked away in a drawer felt too distant, and an idea surfaces, causing me to smile at Dora as she finishes styling my hair. "Dora, could you turn this into a pendant?" I ask, handing her the ring. "Of course, my dear! I'll have it ready for you before we visit your father," she giggles, taking the ring with her as she walks away. I slip on my shoes and earrings, then don my hat over my navy blue dress. I’ve saved the pink dress for Tobias’ return party, my favorite color—one he loves to see me in. I make a mental note to write back to him as soon as I return from my visit to my father's castle, who summoned me earlier that morning. Living separately had been my choice; not that I sought to avoid my father's presence, but rather to enjoy some privacy before Tobias succeeded him as Alpha. We could reside like a normal couple, with only Dora and a few maidens tidying up the place on weekends. Our partnership was ideal, especially given how our love had blossomed over the years. I had harbored a crush on Tobias since I was eleven; with just a two-year age difference, our dynamic was appropriately balanced. We began courting when I turned sixteen and wed months after my eighteenth birthday. I adored my husband. I relished the fact that I had fallen in love with him rather than being forced into an arranged union dictated by my family—a fate many princesses faced in the name of producing male heirs. As the carriage rolled through the courtyard of my father’s castle, memories of our wedding washed over me, magical and enchanting. "Till death do us part," our vows echoed in my thoughts, bringing with them an unsettling sense of dread. He wouldn’t die; neither would I. It’s a peculiar thing humans say, a phrase I had read in a book my uncle gifted me after returning from an assignment in the human world. I had admired those vows then, but they felt painfully inappropriate now, with my husband out fighting for our pack. Upon stepping out of the carriage, I notice an eerie silence—a stark contrast to the usual sounds of bustling activity. The guards bow their heads at the entrance, and there are no maids in sight. Suddenly, a loud roar cuts through the stillness, disquieting me as Dora grips my hand for support. "What is happening?" I manage to ask, confusion threading through my voice. A woman rushes toward me, wailing and clutching her head. She collapses at my feet, heedless of the scuffed stones beneath her knees. "M-mother?" I stutter, recognizing my mother-in-law as her hat tumbles away. She seizes my dress tightly, panic etched across her features. "Dora, quickly. Let’s help her up—” "He’s dead. Tobias is dead. The Lycan king killed him, and he’s coming for us too."A U T H O RBernadette let out a weary sigh as she dropped her bag onto the forest floor, the worn leather hitting the ground with a soft *thud*. With a subtle flick of her wrist, she unveiled her hidden stash of ingredients—bundles of dried herbs, vials of shimmering liquids, and strange roots wrapped in cloth—placing them carefully beside the large iron pot where water bubbled violently, sending up plumes of steam. Nearby, Severus unceremoniously dumped another stack of ancient spellbooks onto the wooden table, the impact echoing through the hollow silence of the abandoned library. Bernadette glanced up, her fingers already sorting through the pages of her most trusted grimoire. “Finally got more time today,” she muttered, more to herself than to him. Severus leaned against the table, arms crossed, watching her with his usual unreadable expression. “What did you do with Raphael?” he asked, his voice low and measured. She didn’t look up. “Nothing, really. He went on some journe
Aurelialis, Fae Empire.Thomas flicked on the torch as he stepped through the portal, its harsh beam cutting through the dim glow of the Fae realm. With a heavy sigh, he swept the light across the sprawling empire of Aurelialis, its towering spires and twisting vines bathed in an eerie luminescence. The air hummed with magic, thick and cloying, pressing against his skin like an unwelcome touch. His gaze lingered on the scene before him, and a familiar weight settled in his chest. A memory surged forward—sharp, unbidden—a baby’s cry echoing in his mind, the child he had never held, only glimpsed through the cold window of the Fae Queen’s scrying portal. His jaw tightened. He blinked hard, forcing the image away, and resumed his march across the border. The torch flickered once before he switched it off, tossing it aside without a second thought. It clattered against the roots of an ancient tree, its purpose served. The Fae Queen’s letter had been clear—a summons, not a request. M
E L E A N O RMy fingers tighten around his wrist, holding him back before he can pull away. The muscles in his arm tense under my grip, but I don’t let go. “You don’t get to decide that.” My voice is rough, strained from the weight of everything left unsaid between us. “Eleanor, I need to do this. Please. For you... for your own good.” He sinks back down beside me, his hands enveloping mine, warm and steady. His touch is gentle, but his words are heavy, each one another reason why I should let him walk away. Why I should accept that this is the end. But I won’t. “I don’t want you making decisions for me,” I whisper, lifting my hand to cradle his face. His skin is warm beneath my palm, his breath uneven. “But I have to.” His voice cracks, raw with something desperate. “It’s so messy, Eleanor. It’s far deeper than you could ever think and—” “We’ll figure it out.” I cut him off, leaning in before he can finish. My lips press against his, soft at first, then firmer as I suc
E L E A N O RI can’t believe it. That he’d actually say those words to me. Here I am, pregnant with a child that could kill me—just like my mother—and he’s saying these things to me, just like my father did to her. It makes me sick. My mouth goes bitter, my stomach twisting into knots. I want to scream at him. I want to slap him hard enough to wipe that resigned look off his face. But then his voice trembles, and he’s staring at me like this isn’t something he wants to do, but something he thinks we have to do. What the hell am I even thinking? Keeping a child for my half-brother? A man I’m unfortunately married to? A dragon? How is this real? Were my visions true? Did Cassandra really have an affair with Thomas Black? The questions spin in my head, relentless, suffocating. “I don’t think I can keep up with this, Perseus.” The words slip out before I can stop them, but the weight inside me doesn’t lift. If anything, it only grows heavier. He steps closer, his hands trembling
E L E A N O RMy entire body trembles as I try to lower myself onto the bed. I reach for the stack of letters on the floor, but just as I begin gathering them, a wave of nausea hits me out of nowhere. My head tilts forward involuntarily, followed closely by a sharp, twisting pain in my stomach. I clutch my abdomen, a low groan slipping through my lips as I force myself to breathe evenly, trying to calm my nerves and find some kind of stability.Then it comes — a burning heat crawling up my spine, so intense it’s impossible to ignore. My mouth opens in a scream before I can stop it, and tears gather at the corners of my eyes. I don’t even realize how loud I was until Perseus bursts into the room, the door slamming shut behind him as he rushes toward me.“Eleanor! Eleanor, what’s going on? Are you alright?” he asks frantically, practically sliding across the room to reach me. His hands grip my shoulders gently, steadying me as he kneels in front of me, trying to meet my eyes.“I... I do
A U T H O R “Please help me,” Perseus said, the words barely leaving his throat as it cracked with panic. He held Asmodeus back by the arm, gripping it like it was the only thing keeping him upright. “She’s gone through a miscarriage before. I can’t do this to her again. I can’t. There has to be a way.” Asmodeus let out a slow, tired sigh, one that made Perseus’ heart pound faster. Then, without a word, he gently peeled Perseus’ hand off him and walked toward the window. He closed the blinds, sealing them inside a room that suddenly felt like it was shrinking with every second. “There’s more to your wife than you know, Perseus. A lot more,” Asmodeus said as he crossed over to the door of his stall and shut it with a quiet finality. “Things even I’m just beginning to uncover.” Perseus dropped onto one of the stools at the counter, his eyes locked on Asmodeus, bloodshot and burning from everything he had seen, everything he feared. He felt like he was unraveling slowly—no, not slowly