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

Freya turned sharply, her voice trembling with desperation. "What do you mean by... mother? Look at me." 


She hesitated for a moment before grabbing Aricia’s shoulders, forcing her to face her fully. Freya’s eyes searched her friend’s face, as if hoping to find some glimmer of reason in her. Her grip was firm but not harsh, betraying her deep worry. 


"I know being an orphan is difficult," Freya began, her voice strained, hovering between sympathy and frustration. "But never wish that woman and her family upon yourself! Besides, you have Martha and me as your guardians. Isn't that enough?" 


"I know," Aricia murmured, her voice a soft whisper of defiance, "but I’m not talking about you or Martha. I’m talking about my birth mother." 


Chapter 55| Orphans