All Chapters of Until The Last Day: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

The blood-red chamber felt alive, like an open wound. Every wall pulsed, each pulse sending a slight tremor through the floor beneath Camela’s bare feet. The chains hung from the ceiling, swinging and dripping red onto the stone below. A cloaked figure leaned forward in the center sitting on a throne crafted from bones. “Bride,” it said in a deep, harsh voice. Camela's throat tightened as she pressed against the wall, as her fingers grazed its pulsing surface—it felt warm like skin. But she quickly pulled her hand back. “I’m not your bride,” she said, her voice trembling. The figure slowly tilted its head. Its mask was blank, painted red without eyes or mouth, yet she felt it watching her intently. The silk cloak trailed over the throne steps as if stirred by breath. “Not mine?” it growled deeply. “Then whose?” The air became thick and heavy. Chains rattled above them, swinging more violently as if the chamber itself awaited her response. Camela parted her lips; her voice shoo

Camela's scream pierced the darkness as the thorns let her go, sending her tumbling into the pit. She collided with cold air before dropping through the void, the world spinning around her as darkness engulfed her. The silence pressed heavily against her head—until the voice emerged again. “Ah…little bride.” Her chest tightened at the sound, which resounded not in her ears but deep within her bones. It was soft and inviting, and wrapped around her like honey on a blade. Camela hit the damp ground with a thud, forcing the air from her lungs in one swift gasp. She coughed, struggling against the dust and rot that filled the air. When she managed to push herself up, she felt her palms slick and smelling of iron. A faint glow illuminated the pit, revealing what lay before her. The First Bride. She appeared almost human—which made it all the more unsettling. She was dressed in a tattered gown of gray, its fabric worn and faded, with wilted roses stitched along its seams. Her skin wa

The ground cracked open. Camela held tightly to Vincent’s arm as dust fell from above. The torches trembled in their holders, their flames bending sideways as though scared. Elias remained still in the middle of the shaking hall, calm as a statue. His voice rose above the chaos. “Do you feel it, bride? The chains pulling around you?” Camela felt her throat tighten as she responded. “Stop it…please stop!” Vincent moved protectively in front of her, his shoulders tense and fists clenched so hard that his knuckles turned white. “You won’t touch her,” he said. A slight smirk appeared on Elias’s face. “Touch her? Vincent, I already have.” Camela felt a twist in her stomach. “No…” “Liar,” Vincent growled. The floor split wider, the marble groaning like a wounded animal. A dark mist began to rise through the cracks, wrapping around their ankles. Camela clutched Vincent's sleeve in panic. “We have to get out of here…” she urged. The mist climbed higher, curling like finger

The growl shook the walls. Wolves poured into the chamber, their eyes shining like burning coals. Claws scraped against the marble floor, and fangs glinted menacingly. The leader pushed his way through the pack, his fur standing on end, and his voice boomed like thunder.“The bride belongs to us.”Camela's heart raced with fear. She tightened her grip on Vincent's hand, but his hold slipped weakly through the thorns that pricked him. His face twisted in pain, and sweat dripped down his forehead. "Stay back!" Camela shouted, her voice trembling. "He's mine…I won't let you harm him!" The wolf leader narrowed his gaze. "You think you have a choice, girl?" He stepped closer, his massive body frame looming over her. "You are already marked. You carry both his scent and ours. You're just a prey wearing a crown." "Camela…" Vincent's voice was strained, choked by the roses digging into him. "Don't fight them…run…" "No!" She got to her feet unsteadily and picked up a shard of glass from t

The jaws clamped down. Blood clouded the water.Camela’s scream ripped from her throat, bubbles bursting around her. “Vincent!”His face twisted in pain, his teeth gritted, but he refused to let go of her hand. His grip only grew stronger, even as the scaled creature's fangs dug into his arm. The water turned red. “Let him go,” whispered the hundreds of voices, encircling them and closing in. “Bride, surrender. Bride, yield.” Camela kicked frantically, pulling on Vincent’s arm. “Fight it…please…” He growled through clenched teeth, his eyes blazing fiercely even underwater. With his free hand, he clawed at the creature's jaw, ripping it open. The beast howled in pain, and its scales split apart. He pushed it away, blood streaming from his arm like ribbons. More creatures circled them, their glowing eyes unblinking. Camela felt a burning sensation in her chest; her lungs screamed for air. She struggled upward, pulling Vincent along with her, but scaled hands grasped at her legs,