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 chamber trembled, the torches along the walls flickering wildly as the deep voice echoed through the stone.

"The Forgotten King has returned."

Kael's breath came slow, measured—but inside, something in him stirred. The words weren't just spoken. They were known, pressed into his bones like an old scar.

The sword at the throne's base pulsed again. Calling.

Fenir's grip on his wrist tightened. "Kael, don't."

Her voice was edged with something rare—uncertainty.

The mate bond between them thrummed, pulling at his senses, but Kael pushed it aside. He had to know what this was.

He knelt before the sword, the shadows shifting around him like restless sentinels. He reached out—

And the moment his fingers touched the hilt, the world split open.

He saw a war-torn city, bathed in shadow and fire. Heard the screams of men and beasts alike. Felt the weight of a crown being torn from his head, the burn of shackles locking around his wrists.

"You were never meant to bow, Kael of the Forgotten Bloodline."

The same voice from before. Older now. Hardened.

He saw a figure standing on a battlefield, wreathed in darkness. He couldn't see their face, but he knew—this was the one who had stolen his throne.

Kael gasped, stumbling back as the chamber around him rushed back into focus.

He was still here. The sword was still in his grip. But his body knew what it had just seen.

Fenir was staring at him, her silver eyes dark with unreadable emotion.

Kael's fingers curled around the hilt of the sword. "This wasn't just hidden." He exhaled sharply. "It was sealed away."

Fenir's gaze flickered to the shadows still coiling at his feet. "And you just broke the seal."

Before Kael could respond, the torches flared—their flames turning a deep, unnatural blue.

And then, from the depths of the chamber, something moved.

The air grew heavy, thick with an ancient force, and the shadows at the far end of the hall began to rise.

A shape pulled itself free from the darkness. Tall. Cloaked in remnants of the past. Watching.

"At last," it murmured, voice like stone grinding against stone.

The Forgotten King's Blade