E L E A N O R The tears won't come. My eyes burn with exhaustion, too dry to weep, or maybe I'm still trapped in that numb shock that follows unbearable truth. I watch helplessly as my mother's last breath leaves her body, her chest going still just as my father bursts into the room. Ravon's cold palm slams over my eyes before I can see his reaction. When he removes his hand, the world has shifted again. Now I stand in the center of a cavern, the rough stone walls illuminated by flickering torches that cast dancing shadows across the uneven ground. The musty scent of damp earth and smoke fills my nose, snapping me back to my own body. The dull ache of pregnancy that had been my constant companion is gone, replaced by this new, sharper pain - the weight of what I've just witnessed, what I've just learned about myself. My fingers tangle violently in my hair, pulling until my scalp stings. A silent scream builds in my throat, escaping as nothing more than a choked gasp that makes R
E L E A N O RI can’t see him clearly through the haze of my own weakening vision, but I know it’s him. My body grows heavier with every passing second, my limbs stiffening as the cold burrows deeper into my bones. My teeth chatter violently, the sound grating against my skull, and my lips have gone numb, frozen in place. My fingers claw uselessly at the snow, the icy bite of it seeping into my skin, spreading through me like poison. Did Bernadette do this? The thought slams into me, sharp and accusing. I should never have trusted her. I should never have trusted anyone.“You shouldn’t have trusted yourself,” Ravon says, his voice cutting through the howling wind. He stands before me, a dark silhouette against the endless white. I can’t bring myself to look up. My gaze stays fixed on his boots, half-buried in the snow, a mocking reminder of how powerless I am to even lift my head and face him. “What do you want from me?” I wheeze, my voice barely more than a whisper, but it’s e
E L E A N O RMy heart is pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat. My entire body shakes violently, and no matter how many deep breaths I take, the panic won’t loosen its grip. I try to stand, but my legs feel like lead, weighed down by fear and exhaustion. The air reeks of terror with children wailing, mothers screaming, the relentless thunder of explosions that make me flinch every time. I hate war. I’ve barely lived through any of it, but this? This is worse than anything I could’ve imagined. Perseus moves with sharp, precise urgency, darting in and out of the closet as he straps on his armor and gathers his weapons. His movements are controlled, but I can see the storm brewing beneath the surface. The soldiers guarding the door are shoved aside as Severus bursts in, his expression grim. “It’s Rapheal and Aurelia. They’re the ones attacking,” Severus announces, voice tight. Perseus steps out, fully armed, sliding a dagger through his belt with a sharp flick of his wrist
E L E A N O RI’ve lost count of how many times I’ve vomited today. The sharp, acidic burn in my throat is something I’ve grown used to, but the sight of blood swirling in the water still sends a jolt of fear through me, cold and immediate. Perseus is cleaning it up again, his movements slow and methodical as he drags the mop across the floor. He doesn’t say anything, but I know he’s scared too—he’s just better at hiding it than I am. The silence between us is heavy, filled with things neither of us wants to voice. The nausea hasn’t let up, not even for a second. My stomach churns violently, rejecting everything, even the water I force myself to sip just to stay alive. Perseus hasn’t left my side, not once. His stubble has grown into a rough shadow along his jaw, and the dark circles under his eyes tell me he hasn’t slept in days. Guilt twists inside me, sharp and relentless. He should be resting. He should be eating. But instead, he’s here, watching me fall apart piece by piece, he
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