angel_writes00

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

"What day is today?" Aricia gasped, her voice catching in her throat as though the air had suddenly turned sharp and heavy. 


A still silence followed, only the faint crackling of the fire punctuating the hush between them. 


"The fifth day of the month of November?" Freya echoed, eyes wide with realization. Her lips parted in disbelief before curling into a frown. "Why did you never tell me about your birthday? And why have you never celebrated it?" 


Aricia stared at her, lost, dazed, the words bouncing against her ears like distant echoes. She looked down at her hands, calloused and worn from years of training—so much time had passed, so many layers of herself shed and rebuilt that even the memory of a birthday felt alien now. 


"It has been such a long time," she murmured under her breath, "that I myself forgot about it." 


“So how come you know when it is?” she asked again, her head tilted, searching Freya's expression. “Did Martha tell you?” 


Chapter 83| A Day You Are Born