E L E A N O R
I 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 from my neck. Could I have been reborn? Is he here? I spring to my feet, heading for the door just as Dora comes sliding in. “Oh, my dear!” she cries, enveloping me in a tight embrace. “Don’t you dare do that again, do you hear me?” “Do what? I need to find Tobias, Dora. Where is he?” She freezes, pulling back slightly. “I understand, truly. I know how deeply this must hurt. Death can be so cruel, taking your husband away, but you're still young. You have a great life ahead of you. Suicide is never the answer—stay strong for Tobias.” “Dora, what do you mean?” I ask, my lips trembling. “What do I mean? You almost took your own life! If it weren’t for the Lycan King, we would have lost you.” Bitterness fills my mouth as reality crashes over me. I’m not dead—I’m still here. “The Lycan King?” I tilt my head, trying to grasp what I’ve just heard. “Yes—” Before she can continue, the door is flung open, and a maid rushes into the room. “The Alpha wants Her Grace down in thirty minutes, Lady Dora!” she blurts, breathless. “What is happening?” I ask, my tone taking on a firm edge as Dora searches my wardrobe for a dress. “The Lycan King is here,” she replies, her voice steady. “What? What does he want?” “That I do not know, but I do know that if you're not ready and downstairs in thirty minutes, I could lose my head,” she says quickly, moving about the room as other maids begin preparing a bath, filling the tub with pink roses. I am taken aback. First, my suicide attempt has been prevented by the very same man who killed my husband, and now I’m expected to get ready to see him? “Dora, stop!” I shout, my fists clenching. She freezes and turns to me. “What is it, dear?” Her calm demeanor stokes a flicker of guilt within me. “Isn’t he here to kill us too? Just like he did with Tobias?” I seethe, my voice rising. Dora steps closer and holds my hands gently. “If he wanted us dead, he wouldn’t have saved you from jumping off that balcony.” I scoff. “Are you that blind? He probably wants to do it himself, or worse—torture us first. I refuse to take a lavish bath just to face the man who murdered my husband. I won’t play dress-up for him.” “Ellie,” she pleads, “please, just this once. You should at least see your father.” I roll my eyes and pull my hands away. He saves me, but why should I show gratitude? Should I bow down to him for sparing a life I have yearned to end? If he is truly a hero, he wouldn’t have instigated the war or slaughtered my husband like a mere animal. He acts as if life and death are wholly within his control, as if they rest squarely in his palm. I walk toward my wardrobe. “Leave, all of you. I’ll prepare myself. And Dora? Tobias's ring is missing; it must’ve fallen when I jumped off the balcony. Please help me find it.” “I will, dear. Are you sure you don’t need assistance?” she asks softly. “I’ll manage. You can go.” The moment they leave, I overturn the table in a fit of rage and collapse to the floor, sobbing silently. They won’t let me have him in life, and they still won’t grant me peace in death. Whatever happens next, I have to avenge my husband. Tobias doesn’t deserve to die the way he did. Wiping my tears away, I rise to my feet and head to the bathroom to scrub myself and splash water on my face without bothering with makeup or drying my hair. I let the damp, burgundy strands fall loosely on my back. I slip on a pair of black slippers beneath my simple black dress. Satisfied with my appearance, I tuck a fork beneath my thigh, just in case things turn chaotic. I have never seen the Lycan King before, nor do I know his name, but I have a good idea of what to expect—a short, bald, old man steeped in cruelty. Tales of him circulate among soldiers during my upbringing, and it is hard not to harbor hatred for him, even before he takes my husband’s life. I step into the throne room, where my father's laughter echoes through the palace. Surprisingly, I find it hard to believe anyone can laugh given our dire circumstances. The Lycans have subdued all werewolf packs; ours has been the last conquered, and the Lycan King has triumphed. A man sits among the chairs—a silver-haired figure who is surprisingly handsome. It is clear he isn’t a werewolf, given his long legs and muscular build. Reina purrs within me, twirling and growling within me as I turn my gaze away from the man. Next to him, another man exudes an aura of darkness, radiating danger yet undeniable allure. He has long, jet-black hair tied in a bun, bright blue eyes, and fluttering eyelashes that dance with each blink. His chiseled jaw and thin lips form a smirk as he rests his chin on his palm, watching my father converse while rubbing his lightly shaved beard. I’m not admiring him; I’m observing him. His gaze shifts from my father to me, and I freeze, quickly looking away just as his companion notices my presence. “Ah, the bride has arrived,” the silver-haired man laughs. The bride?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