lilyfroty

Kael is a wandering swordsman with a haunted past. Rhia is a former healer with a secret that could change everything. When fate binds them together through an ancient oath—Blood, Oath, Fire—their lives are irrevocably altered. The bond doesn’t just link them; it transforms them, awakening a supernatural fire that intertwines their pain, presence, and power.

Hunted by the ruthless Black Hounds and shadowed by a force that watches from the ruins of a forgotten age, Kael and Rhia must unravel the mysteries of their oath before it consumes them. But every answer comes at a price, and the deeper they go, the more they realize: they are not the first to bear this curse.

As their connection deepens into something neither of them expected, they must decide—will they master the fire within, or will it burn them alive?

A tale of supernatural trials, forbidden power, and a romance forged in darkness.

Blood Hounds

The night air was thick with anticipation. The gathered warriors—both Kael's and the newcomers—formed a loose circle around the clearing. Torches flickered, casting long shadows over the rough stone ground.

The leader of the riders, the man with the scar, stepped forward. "If you are to be Vaelthane's ruler, you must prove it. Not with words, but with strength."

Kael exhaled slowly. "And what do you propose?"

The man smirked. "A trial. You against one of us. No death, just proof that you are worthy."

A murmur rippled through the crowd. Rhia, standing off to the side, frowned, her healer's instincts sharpening. "This is foolish," she murmured. "The kingdom needs a leader, not a brawler."

Fenir, standing closer to Kael, didn't speak, but her silver eyes flicked toward him. He could feel the bond tugging at the edges of his mind, her presence pressing against him like a shadow he refused to acknowledge.

Kael rolled his shoulders. "Fine. Choose your fighter."

The man nodded to one of his own—a warrior built like a fortress, taller than Kael, his arms lined with old scars. He stepped forward, cracking his knuckles.

The crowd parted. Kael pulled his sword free, but the scarred leader shook his head. "No weapons. A king should be able to stand on his own."

Kael narrowed his eyes, but he tossed his blade aside. "Let's get this over with."

The fight was brutal. The warrior was fast for his size, striking like a hammer, forcing Kael to rely on speed and precision. Fists met flesh, the crack of impact echoing through the clearing. Kael dodged, countered, felt the sting of a well-placed strike to his ribs but didn't falter.

The word whispered in his head again, at the worst possible moment. His attention flickered, and the warrior seized the opening, slamming a fist into his jaw. Kael staggered, pain flashing white behind his eyes.

Before he could react, she stepped forward, eyes blazing. "Enough."

The air tensed. The warrior hesitated. The leader studied Fenir, then Kael, as if recognizing something unspoken between them.

Kael forced himself to straighten, wiping blood from his lip. "I don't need help." His voice was sharp, but the bond between him and Fenir pulsed—he had felt her anger, her instinct to protect him, as if it were his own.

Fenir didn't look away. "Then finish it."

Kael exhaled hard. He turned back to his opponent. And this time, he didn't let himself be distracted.

Two more blows. A sharp feint. And then Kael caught the warrior's wrist, twisting hard. The man grunted, dropping to one knee.

Kael stepped back, releasing him. "Satisfied?"

The leader of the riders studied him for a long moment. Then, he smiled. "Vaelthane has its king."

As the gathered warriors cheered, Rhia approached, already reaching for Kael's jaw to check the bruise. "You're reckless," she muttered.

She rolled her eyes but didn't argue.

Fenir, meanwhile, stood off to the side, arms crossed, her gaze unreadable. Kael felt her presence more than he should—the bond, still there, still unacknowledged, still waiting.

The Trial of a king