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 en
E L E A N O R I clutch the ring against my chest as my lips quiver. Sniffling, I turn to the side on the bed—he isn’t here. He’s not here to greet me with a good morning kiss on my forehead. A month has passed, but the ache feels just as fresh as that wretched day when I refused to believe my mother-in-law. I had screamed, adamantly rejecting the truth. He wanted me to give him his ring; he assured me he would return. My defiance was silenced by the grim reality of his head delivered in a box by the Lycan king’s soldiers. They said his body was burnt in battle. His funeral was rushed, as if he were some animal to be discarded swiftly—faster so that his widow could move on, or so they claimed. In place of his body, I burned my colorful dresses. It felt pointless to wear them, especially since he wouldn’t be here to see me in them. I buried the ashes alongside my husband, along with my happiness and the remnants of my old life. I never had the chance to say goodbye. In a single day
E L E A N O RI am jolted awake by a loud thud. My eyelids flutter open, and I stare at the girl beside my bed in confusion. She covers her mouth in shock, completely unaware of the pair of eyes watching her as she scrambles to pick up the bowl that has slipped from her grasp.I blink repeatedly, shifting my gaze from her to the familiar surroundings of my old bedroom. From the vanity to the ceiling, and finally to the balcony—is this paradise or hell? Aren’t I supposed to be dead?I rub my forehead with a groan, which seems to alert the maid in the room. She freezes, her eyes widening in shock as they meet mine.“You're awake, Milady?” she gasps, her face lighting up as she turns to me. “Let me get Lady Dora.” With that, she dashes out of the room, her footsteps echoing heavily on the wooden floor.Lady Dora? Am I in an alternate universe? I attempt to sit up, rubbing my head while checking my body for injuries, but there is nothing—nothing except my pendant.Tobias' ring is missing
E L E A N O RI look behind me, hoping that he is referring to someone else, but the bright smile on his face sharply contrasts the confusion etched on mine. What is my father planning now?My father turns to face me, his expression scrunching in displeasure at my look, though he conceals it quickly. “Ellie, my dear. How nice of you to join us. Please, have a seat.” He laughs heartily, breaking the awkward tension that’s building.The Lycan King doesn’t seem to be here, as Dora mentioned earlier. Is she trying to scare me? Or did he send these two as his delegates? Taking a deep breath, I make my way to the velvet chair opposite our guests. I don’t bow to greet them, mourning as I am for my husband. Instead, I sit down and place a cushion on my lap to hide my shaking palms and hopefully calm Reina down.She has never acted this way before unless I accepted her request for a run, but right now, I need to finish whatever I came for and prepare for the bloodshed that seems imminent.“His
E L E A N O R The palace has already begun preparations for the grand royal wedding tomorrow. I can hear the sound of feet scurrying back and forth as they bustle about. Soon, I overhear a group of maids chatting as they walk past my door. “I really feel sorry for the princess… It’s barely been a week since she lost her husband,” the empathetic one begins. “Sorry?” Her companion scoffs. “She’s lucky and privileged. Not every widow gets the opportunity to remarry a drop-dead gorgeous supreme leader.” “Marina, he killed her husband,” the third voice squeaks. “Her husband would’ve killed him if he hadn’t. It’s a war; you don’t let your enemy go out of sympathy. I think she should be grateful for another chance,” Marina adds indifferently. “You wouldn’t have another chance when I get out of here!” I yell. “My apologies, Your Majesty,” she says, lowering her tone. “Just go,” I grunt. They are selfish—just like my father, who sold me off. Tobias died protecting them, and now they’r
E L E A N O RWhen I wake up, I hope silently that it is all a nightmare and that Dora and my mother-in-law are still alive. I can't cry. Not because I don't want to, but because my eyes are undeniably tired from the task.Now, my heart is heavy and soaked with vengeance. I will make sure he pays; I will behead him just as he has done to the others, roaming around freely with their blood on his hands.A maid applies my makeup in silence while another styles my hair. I don’t object or fight them. This is a stark contrast to my first wedding, which had been filled with laughter and joy. Now, the castle is in mourning while preparing to supposedly celebrate.A maid walks in, bowing before me, and opens a jewelry case. “Lady Dora wanted you to have this,” she says, revealing Tobias' ring in the case. Tears threaten to spill from my eyes, but nothing comes, so I pick it up and wave for her to go.Her voice sounds familiar. “Marina?” I call, and she turns. “Y-yes, Your Grace?”“Pack your ba
EL E A N O RHis kiss is consuming, blooming with sheer passion and hate as he presses his lips against mine with a ferocity that sends chills down my spine. The familiar scent of agarwood floods my senses as his tongue teases my tightly closed lips, urging me to open up and give him access.Reina is reeling in excitement at this contact, begging to be marked and claimed. His lips are warm, mingling with a pleasant taste. My body almost betrays me, yearning for him, but my mind snaps back to reality—this is the man who has taken everything I love away from me.My eyes snap open, and I bite down hard on his lower lip, feeling the sharp rush of victory as the metallic scent of blood fills my mouth and nostrils. He pulls away, his eyes gleaming with rage as blood drips from his lip. I had made him bleed. Again.“We're to exchange the rings before a kiss, dear husband,” I sneer, a chuckle escaping as I spit out his blood and retract my fangs.Perseus says nothing as his wound quickly sea
E L E A N O RI blink twice at the shock of the revelation. They want me to kill Perseus Cage? “You don’t have to do anything serious.” My father-in-law continues, slipping his hands into his pockets as he pulls out a small green vial. “This is a poison crafted by a sorceress in the dragon shifter clan. You need to administer it to him before he beds you. It’ll kill him slowly, right before our attack in two months.” I take the vial, scanning the small object in my hands. “Before he beds me?” “You can't cook, so the kitchen is off-limits for you; that's why we couldn't ask you to slip it in his meals, Eleanor. Pleasure is the perfect way to take that man down,” my father-in-law explains further. “We have to give Tobias the justice he deserves. We must reclaim our pack like he always wanted. We have to avenge Dora and my beloved wife, Beatrice,” he adds. “You just need to bathe with it before he sleeps with you; the essence will kill him.” They’re sending me off to act like a
P E R S E U SEleanor winces, a soft sound escaping her lips as the pain registers—yet I don’t think she fully understands what’s just happened. She lets out a breathy giggle, the kind that only half-masks her confusion, then reaches up to gently wipe the blood off my lips with her thumb. I foolishly lean into the contact, letting my tongue glide across her finger. A dangerous game.“Crazy... you,” she slurs, her words sluggish as her stomach suddenly growls in protest.“I’m hungry, Perseus,” she whines, her voice dragging me back to my senses like a tether yanking at my spine.“I’m sorry, I forgot,” I say, struggling to find the right words while still hovering over her, reluctant to move.“Go get something to eat, will you?” she murmurs, softer now but still commanding. I’d do anything she asked in that moment—even if she yelled. Hell, I might like it. I just want to see her in pain again, but not out of cruelty. No. Out of obsession.“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” I promise, fina
P E R S E U SI couldn't guarantee that I wouldn’t leave her again—not when the shattered pieces of Ravon’s Blade are still scattered across the Earth like cursed relics waiting to be found. My duty demanded my loyalty, my blood, and often, my absence. But my wife... my wife needed me. And I wasn’t there.Guilt had wrapped its hands around my throat the moment I found out she was in danger—getting hurt—and I hadn’t known. I hadn’t felt it. The silence between our bond had never been louder than in that moment. I had barely crossed the castle gates when a maid collapsed at my feet, her body trembling and her eyes wild. “My name is Anna,” she gasped between sobs, clutching at my trousers. “Thank the stars you’re here. I was going to get help. They’ll kill her—your wife—they’ll kill her if you don’t do something.”I had doubted Beersheba partially, until I heard the screams. The kind that shattered glass and clawed at your bones. They reverberated through the entire palace, thick with ag
E L E A N O R Perseus leads me to his room, the entire castle in chaos—shouts and hurried footsteps echo down the halls—but his expression remains stoic, thick with a rage that refuses to break. There is no trace of betrayal in his eyes, no sorrow, not even a flicker of pain. He is simply… angry. A raw, simmering anger. Instead of leaving me on the bed as I expected, he shuts the door behind us with a heavy thud, his movements deliberate. Without a word, he guides me toward the bathroom where a warm bath has already been drawn. The scent of lavender and the faint, soothing steam fills the room. As he sets me down on my feet, my legs wobble, too weak to support my own weight. His hands catch me, steadying me, and the warmth in his touch is oddly comforting. I lean into him, grateful for his support. A silence falls between us, heavy and thick. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t make a sound. I feel his breath against the nape of my neck, warm and unhurried. My pulse quickens, a flutter of so
E L E A N O R There’s a brief deliberation in my mind as I try to process what I’m feeling. I’m unsure whether I should be relieved that he’s here, frightened by the raw intensity of the rage in his eyes, or simply numb to it all. The man holding me lets go of my arms, and I rip the headless body off of me, the blood soaking through my clothes as I sit up, my head pounding with an ache that makes everything seem surreal. In the blink of an eye, Perseus drops his sword onto the bed, his movements quick and precise as he shoves the man to the wall, pinning him there with one hand clamped around his neck. With the other, he retracts his claw and slips it into the man’s chest, pulling out his heart with a cold, practiced motion. He tosses it carelessly at Margaret’s feet, her shocked squeak piercing the silence as she freezes in place, unable to move from her seat. I can’t tear my eyes away from the man’s heart, still pumping with life as it falls to the floor. The body crumples shortl
E L E A N O R Numbness. That’s what I think the body resorts to when it’s grown tired—no, exhausted—from bearing the weight of pain for too long. My eyes are far too drained to weep anymore, the tears dried up somewhere between yesterday’s heartache and today’s betrayal. My body has had enough of aching, and my heart? It’s bleeding—still bleeding—from the wounds carved by disloyalty. But beneath that torment, a fire burns: rage. Pure, sharp, unwavering rage. An overwhelming need to avenge all that had been done to me. Marina. She would pay the most. That sweet-tongued, double-faced traitor. A devil’s advocate cloaked in innocence, whispering loyalty while plotting ruin in silence. Waiting, lurking, for the perfect moment to strike. I hadn’t even processed what my father had chosen to do to me, hadn’t fully absorbed the weight of his betrayal, when Marina twisted the knife even deeper. Betrayal was a foreign agony to me until now—an ache I had read about in books, seen in stories,
P E R S E U S "Beersheba doesn’t like multiple visitors. She’d think it’s an ambush," I say to Hakim as we cross the narrow bridge suspended over misty waters, the one that leads directly to the Serpent Goddess’s hidden temple. Fabian had no doubt overestimated Beersheba’s power. I’ve been to her temple before. She had a habit—no, a twisted obsession—with disguising her dwelling to mimic various forms. It was a trick she perfected to lure in her prey—men, mostly—whom she devoured not through brute force, but through seduction. Beersheba is believed to be the first succubus to break free from her kind, after a feud with her sister that history never recorded, a mystery lost to time. When I found her temple, it had taken the form of a modest inn. I was injured from the war and desperate for a place to rest. Back then, she had disguised herself as a charming innkeeper. Strangely enough, we’d built a fragile rapport. It never blossomed into anything more—at least, not from my end. Our
E L E A N O R It felt like the abyss I always fell into in my nightmares—endless, black, suffocating. A pit of despair with no light and no end. I let out a scream when my back slammed against the cold, damp ground—muddy, slimy, and worst of all, drowned in darkness. “See you outside, Eleanor,” Dolores’s voice echoes faintly from above, but my body’s already limp, drained of all energy from the fall. I close my eyes, trembling. I don’t want to sleep. I’m terrified that if I do, I won’t wake up. But deep down, I hope—desperately—that this ends tonight. That maybe, just maybe, it is just another nightmare. I could understand an ice bath. That would’ve been painful but logical in the twisted logic of their world. But locking me inside a dark, abandoned well? That crossed into a territory I couldn’t wrap my mind around. This wasn't like the training I endured at home. That was cruel, yes—but it had purpose. It was supposed to mold me. Here, every task felt like it was designed to dis
E L E A N O R I rub my forehead with a groan, my gaze colliding with a small group of maids who are staring at me like I’ve grown two heads. Although none of them say a word, their expressions are telling. I must’ve had another one of those nightmares—the kind that come with dramatic thrashing and muffled screams. One of them steps forward with obvious reluctance. “Grand Luna Margaret ordered us to get you dressed and bring you to the courtyard.” So the training continues. Of course it does. Not even sleep offers me refuge anymore. There’s no solace in dreams when reality is far more cruel. Ever since Tobias died, peace has abandoned me completely. Nothing has made life feel worth living—except Marina. Protecting her is the only reason I haven’t completely unraveled. “Tell her I want Marina,” I mutter, voice low and rough as gravel. “The rest of you can leave.” “Who’s Marina?” one of them squeaks, her brows pinched together in confusion. “My werewolf maid,” I reply, using the co
E L E A N O R Although my eyes are closed, I'm still aware of my surroundings. The maids lift my body with hesitation—one of them even winces at how cold I am, muttering that I feel almost like a corpse. The candle had long burned out, and they began cleaning the room the moment Margaret left.As soon as I'm placed on the bed, the warmth of the sheets brings a fragile sense of comfort. My fingers, though trembling, clutch the folds tightly.“I sure hope she doesn't die,” a maid whispers, the shuffling of blankets indicating she’s packing up the one used to cover me.“Well, I hope she does. Dolores is meant to be Luna—an actual Lycan, not a werewolf. We didn’t lose our brothers and fathers at war just to submit to those we’re supposed to subdue, Anna,” another voice scoffs with indifference.“Floria, I don’t think she wants to be Luna anyway. You saw the way she attacked the King. It’s almost like she didn’t sign up for this either,” Anna whispers, slipping a pair of socks onto my fee