A story about a place that neither exists in maps or history books, this place was called Athame.

•••

"The root of every fear is the unknown, yet how can one fear what they cannot grasp? Tch... how misleading." His voice, deep and rough, sent an involuntary shiver through her as he closed the distance between them with deliberate steps, his presence suffocating in its intensity.

With a slow, predatory grace, his fingers brushed along her jaw, settling on a strand of her scarlet hair, his touch deceptively tender. "Knowing me will matter little," he whispered darkly, his breath warm against her skin. "For even in the shadows of uncertainty, you will come to fear... and desire me all the same."

•••

Aricia, born with extraordinary abilities in a world that fears anything out of the ordinary, was destined for a marriage alliance to secure peace between kingdoms. 

But on the day of her engagement, her entire family is slaughtered—by the very family she was meant to marry into. 

Grief-stricken and consumed by vengeance, Aricia swore to destroy those who betrayed her. She would wield the very power they had feared against them, seeking justice with no mercy. After years on the run, she found shelter within an elemental clan, hiding her abilities and keeping to the shadows.

But her carefully constructed peace shattered in a single moment. A burning touch, a chance encounter with his haunting gray eyes—an unknown force within her stirred, threatening to unravel her carefully guarded secrets and the fragile balance of magic, madness, and vengeance she had built....

Vengeance Through Passion

“Wh... what? I stole no plaque! He threw it at me. I promise you, this man is a sneaky liar!” Aricia’s voice trembled, though her indignation burned bright. She glared at the men standing before her, her scarlet hair framing her flushed face. 


Wainwright’s lips curled in disdain, his presence as commanding as ever despite his stooped posture. “I don’t want to hear any more of it. Your lies are boring me, and it is truly disgraceful to see a young maiden behave so unruly.” 


Aricia’s mouth fell open, her words faltering. “But—” she began, only to see his expression harden further. 


Wainwright’s sharp gaze swept over her, lingering on her hands. His eyes narrowed as he tilted his head slightly. “Those... gloves. I’ve seen them somewhere,” he murmured, his tone carrying a curious edge. 


Aricia immediately stepped back, her hands darting behind her back as though hiding a stolen treasure. 


Chapter 50| Marriage Of The Rich