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

Vincent caught a glimpse of Arthur’s back as the young man slipped out of the servants’ quarters, his movements quick and purposeful. Vincent raised a brow, his sharp instincts tingling at the oddity of the sight. With a soft exhale, he approached the door Arthur had exited and rapped his knuckles against the weathered wood. 


After a moment’s pause, Vincent turned the handle and stepped inside. 


“Aricia,” he called out, his voice steady yet softened by familiarity. No answer came, only the faint murmurs of someone deep in slumber. 


He moved further into the room, his sharp eyes catching sight of her on the bed. She stirred, muttering unintelligibly as she turned in her sleep, clutching the blanket closer to her. For a fleeting moment, her vulnerability tugged at something within him, but he quickly dismissed the thought. 


“It’s time for training,” Vincent said, his tone firmer now. 


Chapter 51| Pervert