Max
A quick look over, and he noticed he was alone. The moonlight cast shadows on the empty side of the bed, the crumpled sheets cold. Sin was no longer in his room, where he told her not to leave.
She wasn’t there.
A rush of terror shot through him, terror that wasn’t his own, and it nearly took him to his knees. Focusing on that pain, he followed its source, trying to identify it until he felt the bond, flaring with pain.
The air was cold, a gust of wind howling through the cracks in the old walls, making the wood creak under the pressure.
The entire place reeked of desolation, the silence only broken by the occasional rustle of aged fabric or the groan of ancient beams. It felt as though something horrible had occurred, the ugly sensation filling the air.
Not a sound to be heard, as if abandoned.
Focusing his hearing, there was one heartbeat.
He followed it until he found a servant girl, hiding in an alcove.
The girl flinched, her eyes darting between him and the darkness beyond, as if expecting something awful to emerge. Her hands shook violently, and her voice broke, barely more than a terrified whisper. She didn’t notice him enter until he purposefully made his next steps audible.
She gasped, and he held his hands up as if she were an injured animal.
“What happened?” he demanded.
“A monster,” she breathed. “It came out of the cell, killed the masters, and then ran away.”
“Where did it go?” He barely held back his rage.
She shook her head. “Into the forest I assume. I have no idea.”
He nodded and followed the stench of blood. Dreading finding it, to find the news that might ruin his life. His soul.
He hardly knew this woman, but she was his mate.
He could feel the weight of the bond, a pull that transcended logic, like a fire in his chest that burned for her alone.
A flash of their first touch—an electric jolt that shook him to his core—reminded him just how deeply she was already etched into his soul.
She was his destined partner, a gift from the gods, created as his perfect counterpart.
Following that scent, he came face to face with a large cracked door, leading to a cellar.
He slowly pushed the door open. The scent of burning flesh and copper overwhelmed him.
His face twisted in disgust. The door creaked loudly, making him step back involuntarily.
The cellar was like a nightmare. The walls were covered in thick streaks of congealed blood.
Entrails were scattered, steaming and glistening.
Broken bones jutted from the piles like grotesque monuments.
Steam rose from the stone floor, adding to his confusion.
A tugging pain coursed through him again, fainter, less frantic. Relief coursed through him that she was alive, but he had no time to waste.
He went back to the castle and took three trusted soldiers with him. Then, they all went back to the manor. Each soldier was ordered to search the forest, while Max would search the house.
He returned to the cellar and froze. He hadn’t noticed something sparkle before.
Max’s knees nearly buckled as he stumbled towards the stilettos, his fingers shaking as he reached out.
The sight of fresh blood sent a wave of nausea crashing through him.
A scream built up in his chest, raw and primal, but he forced it down, his body trembling as rage fought with hopelessness.
His mate’s crystal stilettos.
Max’s breathing grew heavier. Visions of Sin bound, tortured, lying lifeless. His fear became unbearable. His hands began to tremble, a flash of rage igniting in his eyes as these dark thoughts overwhelmed him. Each thought was worse than the last, driving his desperation to a breaking point.
He just found her.
He couldn’t lose her right after they mated.
What cruel fate was that?
At the thought, a soldier called for him from within the manor.
He informed Max that the ‘monster’ has been taken into custody, and is entering the throne room now.
Anger flooded Max again, but this time from not being informed before taking it to his father, but he accepted it.
The guards’ loyalty will always primarily be to the king, as is their duty.
Teleporting just outside of the warded throne room, flickering torches cast distorted shadows along the stone walls, as the eldest prince approached his father’s throne on the dais.
The echo of his footsteps bounced off the high, vaulted ceilings, the dark grandeur of the room feeling more oppressive without his brothers’ presence. Likely still sleeping from the party. His father sat at his throne, looking down cruelly at the person dragged by their arms.
Max’s skin pebbled at their appearance—skin charred and cracked, blisters forming like grotesque bubbles, chunks of flesh missing. One eye was an empty, bleeding socket, and their lips were split and swollen.
The acrid stench of charred flesh filled the air, and Max had to swallow down his disgust at the sight of such suffering.
He sensed a flicker of familiarity in their presence, his eyes narrowing with contempt. Could this wretched creature be responsible for what was happening to Sin?
The thought burned through him like acid, his fingers itching to close around their throat. He vowed vengeance—if they had done anything to his mate, they would suffer a fate far worse than what had already been inflicted upon them.