Chapter （Untitled）
I can feel the cold, dead weight of them around my wrists, ankles, and neck, sapping the strength I would normally draw from within.
It’s as if they’ve cut me off from a vital part of myself, leaving me hollow and helpless.
Leave it to the fucking Shadoweaver to have the perfect cell waiting for me.
I shouldn’t be surprised really—this is exactly the kind of meticulous cruelty he’s known for.
But I can’t help the bitter thoughts that flood my mind as I tug futilely at the chains.
Where in the world did he even find wyvern bones?
The creatures have been extinct for centuries, their remains scattered and nearly impossible to come by.
Yet here I am, bound by the very essence of one, trapped in a cell that feels more like a grave.
My body throbs with pain, every muscle and joint screaming from the strain of being unable to move for so long.
The stone beneath me offers no comfort, and the relentless thirst gnaws at the edges of my sanity, intensifying the disorientation that has been creeping in since the moment I was chained here.
It’s only been two days but it feels like a lifetime.
The blood loss and the wyvern bones draining my magic have left me in a state of desperate need, my body teetering on the brink of collapse.
I’ve faced countless dangers before, but this .
. . this is different. The physical agony is one thing, but the knowledge that I’m slowly being drained, not just of blood but of my very essence, is a terror all in itself.
My thoughts keep drifting, struggling to stay coherent, but one pressing concern cuts through the haze; I have yet to discuss a crucial matter with Everly.
The bond between us is new, fragile yet powerful.
Once mated, I will need to feed from her during every new moon—a necessity for my kind, one that’s as much about maintaining my strength as it is about deepening our connection.
But, I’m uncertain if druids share the same characteristics as the high fae in this regard.
Will she, too, begin to feel the effects of our separation?
Will the bond pull at her, making her feel the same gnawing emptiness that’s growing within me?
Movement in my periphery has me tensing. A thick mass of shadows forms in the open archway, two crimson eyes staring at me from in its depths. I tip my head back against the stone and close my eyes.
“You look like shit,” the mass hisses, its voice slithering over the stone walls like a cold, unfeeling wind.
I force my eyes open to thin slits, my throat dry as sandpaper. “Back for more?” The rasped words grate against the rawness in my throat.
The shadowy form slowly solidifies, transforming into the demon I’ve come to loathe.
In the flickering torchlight, her black hair gleams like polished onyx, a stark contrast to the dim, filthy surroundings.
Surprisingly, her white silk kimono, adorned with delicate red flowers, remains immaculate—untouched by the blood that should stain it.
That’s new. Her eyes, a striking crimson red, gleam with a sinister light, betraying the twisted satisfaction she gets in this game she likes to play.
“You’re just so delicious,” she purrs, stepping closer with a predatory grace.
Disgust twists my features into a snarl. My lip curls, and I let out a low growl, which reverberates in the confined space.
The demon tips her head back and laughs, the sound scraping against my nerves like nails on a chalkboard.
“Fucking demon,” I spit, venom lacing each word.
Her head snaps down, and before I can react, she’s straddling me, her weight pressing down on my already aching body. Her hand fists my hair, tipping my head back, the pain scattering across my scalp.
“I told you. My name is Yumekui,” she whispers, her breath hot against my skin.
My lips peel back over my fangs, a silent snarl of defiance. “Your name is of no concern to me,” I snarl, refusing to give her the satisfaction of acknowledgment.
Her lips tilt into a sinister smile, and with a flick of her wrist, a dagger materializes in her hand.
The blade gleams wickedly in the dim light, promising pain.
“For royalty, you really have no manners.” She tsks, feigning disappointment as she lightly trails the blade against my skin, drawing out the tension in the air.
The sensation sends a shiver across my body, a mix of fear and rage simmering beneath the surface. But I refuse to give her the pleasure of seeing me break. Not now. Not ever.
Placing the tip of her finger on the dagger, she twirls it, a bead of red blood forming. Slowly, she puts her finger in her mouth, sucking the blood from it while those crimson eyes never leave mine.
With a swift motion she drags her dagger across my chest, leaving a searing pain in its wake. Air hisses between my teeth as a fiery pain burns a path over my body.
Humming in approval, she leans forward and drags her tongue across the wound, lapping at the blood. With each passing second, the burn intensifies, creeping through my veins like acid. She is fucking infecting me with her foul poison.
I try to move, but my restraints tighten, keeping me in place.
“You could end this pain and help us,” the shadows whisper.
“Never!” I roar.
I would endure an eternity of this pain if it meant Everly would be safe. I hate that she’s out there alone.
No, not alone. Alivar got her out of the city, but has he taken her back? Is she under Raiden’s protection? Fuck, I hope so. If he has her . . .
Anger and jealousy burn in the pit of my stomach, momentarily blocking the pain.
I want nothing more than to open our bond to see how she’s doing, but I can’t risk it.