Promise

For days, I lay in wait, watching, biding my time. The perfect moment had yet to present itself, but it would. It had to. Colton was a fool. He thought he could take her alone, thought he was strong enough. But he was wrong. The werewolf prince slaughtered him in seconds, barely breaking a sweat. I still remember the way his body hit the ground, lifeless, pathetic. But Colton's failure served a greater purpose. His death awakened something in her. A near-death experience—that was all she needed for her power to stir. And now, day by day, I could feel it growing. Stronger. Wilder. Untamed magic radiated from her like a beacon, calling to those who could sense it. And yet, she was still under the delusion that she was human. The only problem? The prince. Malik watches her obsessively, lurking on the outskirts of her life, believing he's protecting her. If only he knew the truth. If only he realized that his presence won't save her—it will only delay the inevitable. I remained hidden, cloaked in shadow, as I watched him move toward her house again. The fool. He was a powerful fighter, but even he was blind to what she truly was. His devotion was sickening, a wasted effort. She doesn't belong to him. She belongs to us. A slow grin spread across my lips as I receded back into the forest, slipping through the veil of reality. With a single step, I passed through the gate our Lord created, emerging into a world of darkness. The air was thick with damp rot, the walls slick with moisture as I made my way down the long, winding corridor toward the throne room. Torches lined the stone passageway, their flames flickering with an eerie blue hue, casting ghastly shadows that danced against the cold walls. I approached the massive obsidian doors, pressing a hand against their chilled surface. They groaned open, revealing a cavernous chamber swallowed in shadow. At the far end, seated atop a throne of hand carved mahogany, was him. Our Lord. He sat in eerie stillness, draped in swirling darkness that ebbed and flowed like living smoke. A single lock of long, silken silver-white hair fell over his face, contrasting against the abyss of his form. When he smiled, the darkness seemed to part just enough to reveal the gleam of his perfect teeth. I knelt before him, clenching my fist in front of my chest. "Your Highness, everything is in place. On the next Spirit Moon, she will be ours." A low, sinister chuckle rumbled through the chamber, shaking the very air around us. "Good, Sylvin," he murmured, his voice like a serpent's whisper. "Our patience is finally paying off. Soon, our prize will be within reach." His glowing green eyes narrowed, glinting with dark anticipation. "But we must not be careless. The prince is a distraction, yes, but his wolf is strong. He will sense something before long." He leaned forward, the darkness slithering around him as he peered down at me. "Watch her. Do not fail me. Report to me daily." "Yes, my Lord," I said, bowing deeply before rising and slipping away into the darkness.

The Lord's POV

As Sylvin disappeared, I exhaled slowly, running a hand down my face in frustration. That girl—that woman—had no idea what kind of power she possessed. Now that it had awakened, it would be like a beacon, calling out to every being with the gift to sense it. She would be hunted. Sought after. Killed if I didn't reach her first. A low growl erupted from my chest, and the heat within me surged. My fingers curled against the armrests of my throne, and a sudden wave of fire erupted from my hands. Flames consumed the throne in an instant, licking up the hand carved masterpiece, turning it to charred ruin beneath my grip. The scent of the burned remains filled the chamber, thick and acrid. I forced myself to breathe, to suppress the inferno raging within me. Soon . . . Soon. My eyes gleamed with hunger, my lips parting as I let the fantasy consume me. That raw, untapped power was mine. That fragile little body would break under my will, surrendering every ounce of its strength to me. I licked my lips, my fingers twitching with the need to take what was meant to be mine. The remains of my throne still smoldered, glowing embers pulsing like the beat of my anticipation. I would rebuild it as I always had—just as I would mold her into exactly what I needed. "I promise you, dear Audra... you will belong to me."