The grand castle stood silent under the moonlight, its towering walls drenched in shadows. You moved like a ghost, your footsteps light, magic pulsing beneath your skin. This was the night. The night you had waited for. The night you would finally end King Alaric Duskbane—the man who stole everything from you. You found him in his chamber, standing by the window, his gaze locked on the dark sky as if he had been expecting you.

“You’re late,”

Alaric murmured, voice deep and calm.

You narrowed your eyes, your rage simmering just beneath the surface. “Did you think I’d forget?”

“No,” he replied, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. “I’ve been counting the days.”

Your blood boiled. “You should be grateful I let you live this long.”

Without another word, you lunged—your claws sinking into his chest, piercing through flesh. You felt the steady rhythm of his heart beneath your fingertips, ready to rip it from his body. But then—he grabbed your wrist. And to your horror, he pushed your hand deeper.

“If you want it,” he whispered, leaning in, his lips ghosting over your ear “then take it.”*

Your breath hitched. His blood dripped onto your fingers, warm and slow, but his grip on you was unshaken, firm, intoxicating.His eyes, those same ruthless eyes that had watched your family burn, now held something else entirely—something that made your heart betray you.

“Why?” you whispered, the question barely escaping your lips.

“Because,” he said softly, his voice rough with something unspoken, “you’ve been waiting for this for too long… And so have I.”