Don't bite

What in the world is this place?

Questions churned in Elle's mind, colliding with one another as she tried to make sense of her surroundings.

"Well, what do we have here?"

The voice was smooth, laced with dark amusement, and it pulled her from her daze. Halcyon Valkar—the Crown Prince of this strange world—stood at the base of the stairs, his predatory gaze locked on her like a hawk studying its prey.

Elle's breath hitched. There was something unnerving about him. It wasn't just the commanding aura that seemed to darken the space around him, nor the cruel curve of his lips. No, it was his eyes—piercing, calculating, as if they could unravel every secret she was too scared to admit, even to herself.

She stiffened, her body rebelling against the instinct to look away. Instead, she met his gaze, her defiance subtle but unmistakable.

The corner of Halcyon's mouth twitched upward, a mockery of a smile that promised nothing good. Then, in the blink of an eye, he moved. One moment he was at the stairs; the next, he was in front of her, close enough that she could feel the coolness of his presence slicing through the air.

Elle flinched, snapping back to reality as his stare bore into her, heavy and suffocating. His gaze wasn't just intense—it was invasive, as though he was peeling back layers of her soul without her consent.

Mrs. Cora, still trembling on her knees, reached for Elle's hand. Her grip was clammy as she whispered in a voice barely audible, "Bow down, Syraelle." Her fear seeped into her words, trembling with desperation.

Elle remained frozen, her mind racing. Bow? To him? Her pride bristled at the thought, but her gut told her to tread carefully.

Morwena stood nearby, barely containing her smirk. Her eyes glimmered with sadistic glee, anticipating Syraelle's inevitable humiliation. She pressed her lips into a thin line, struggling to suppress the laugh threatening to spill.

Halcyon's gaze flicked away from Elle momentarily, landing on Morwena. His expression shifted, darkening in an instant. The satisfied gleam in Morwena's eyes faltered as his presence bore down on her, a storm in the making. His knuckles turned white as he clenched his fists, his barely restrained fury tangible in the tension coiling around him.

But just as quickly as it appeared, the storm passed. He straightened, exuding an unnerving calm, though the shadow in his eyes promised Morwena this moment wouldn't be forgotten.

Elle, sensing the danger she was in, forced herself to her knees. Her voice trembled as she spoke, "Forgive me, Your Highness. I was… I was just lost in thought. My apologies."

Her words came out uneven, the fear in them undeniable.

Halcyon tilted his head, studying her like a puzzle he wasn't sure if he wanted to solve—or destroy. He didn't respond immediately, and the silence stretched long enough for Elle to wonder if he ever would.

When he finally spoke, his voice was low, almost a murmur, but it carried the weight of a thousand unspoken threats. "Lost, were you? Then allow me to guide you, ms phalanor. I despise when things—" he paused, his smile returning, sharper this time, "—or people, wander out of place."

Her hands trembled uncontrollably, a betrayal of the fear coursing through her veins. She tried to steady them, clutching at the hem of her dress and hiding them out of sight. Her eyes stayed fixed on the ground, refusing to lift and meet his. She didn't need to look to know the weight of his gaze; she could feel it, pressing down on her like an oppressive force.

Is this real? Elle's mind buzzed with a cacophony of thoughts, the possibilities too wild, too terrifying to grasp. Did I just transmit into my own novel? The idea wrapped itself around her like a suffocating shroud, sending a chill straight to her core.

Halcyon, however, was enjoying the moment. Every tiny movement she made, every quiver of her fingers, the subtle heaving of her chest as she struggled to keep her breathing even—it was all laid bare before him. And he savored it.

He crouched, his movements slow, deliberate, as if savoring the tension. Coming down to her level, he lifted her chin with a feather-light touch, forcing her to look up at him. His face was so close to hers that their breaths mingled, and for a fleeting moment, it felt as though he might press his lips against hers.

The guards, noticing their Crown Prince's unexpected gesture, averted their gazes with haste, their eyes darting to the trees, the sky, anywhere but at the scene unfolding before them. Counting birds suddenly seemed like the most important task of the day.

Elle's breath hitched when she felt his thumb graze her chin, so faintly it might as well have been a phantom touch. But it was enough. Enough to send a shiver down her spine, enough to make her shut her eyes tight, bracing for whatever came next.

She bit down on her lower lip, the coppery tang of blood filling her mouth as she fought to keep from crying out. Her fear was palpable, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure he could hear it.

"Don't," Halcyon's voice cut through the silence, a command wrapped in silk but carrying the weight of steel.

Her eyes snapped open at the sound, locking onto his. His dark, blood-red irises bore into her own, filled with something that danced between amusement and menace. His raven-black hair was tousled, stray strands framing his angular face, the sharpness of his features only heightened the danger he exuded.

"Huh?" she managed, her voice a barely audible croak, as confusion and fear collided within her.

Halcyon leaned in closer, a cruel smirk playing on his lips. "Don't hurt yourself," he said, his thumb brushing against the corner of her mouth where her blood had begun to pool. "That's my job."

Elle's eyes widened in alarm. She wanted to pull back, to put any distance between herself and him, but her body betrayed her. It was as if some invisible force held her in place, rendering her powerless.

Halcyon tilted his head, a shadow of amusement crossing his crimson gaze, as if he could sense the very thoughts racing through her mind. He moved closer, towards her ears, his breath brushing against her skin like a ghostly caress.

"Don't bite your lips," he murmured, his voice low and velvety, laced with a darkness that sent shivers cascading down her spine. His lips didn't touch her ear, but the sensation of their proximity made her feel as though they had.

Elle blinked rapidly, her mind scrambling for coherence, but before she could even begin to formulate a response, he rose to his full height. The shift in his presence was immediate, his towering figure casting a long shadow over her.

"Get her safely to my wing: velidrea," Halcyon ordered, his tone sharp and final. Without sparing another glance at her, he turned on his heel and strode toward the carriage waiting for him.

The guards scrambled to obey, but the Crown Prince was already gone, stepping into his opulent carriage with an elegance that seemed to mock the crude surroundings of the village.

As the wheels of the royal carriage began to roll, Mrs. Cora bowed even lower, her head nearly touching the ground. "Thank you, Your Highness, for gracing this lowly place with your presence," she said, her voice trembling with servitude.

Her gratitude hung in the air, unanswered. Halcyon didn't so much as glance back, his departure as cold and dismissive as his gaze.

From the sidelines, Morwena seethed with rage. Her fists clenched at her sides, and her nails dug into her palms as she glared daggers at Elle. How could the Crown Prince ignore her audacity?

Unable to contain her jealousy any longer, Morwena stormed toward Elle, grabbing her arm with a grip that felt like iron. "Don't think too highly of yourself," she hissed, her voice dripping with venom. "You're nothing but a slave."

Elle, still frozen in the haze of shock and fear, didn't respond. Her mind replayed the events of the last few minutes, Halcyon's words echoing in her ears, his gaze burned into her memory.

Before she could collect herself, Morwena shoved her roughly. The sudden movement caused Elle to stumble, the hem of her dress catching under her foot. She fell forward with a thud, her knees and palms scraping against the rough ground.

Pain radiated from the fresh wounds, sharp and stinging. Elle's eyes squeezed shut, tears threatening to spill, not just from the physical pain but from the weight of everything that had happened.

Morwena sneered, towering over her like a predator reveling in its prey's misery. "Pathetic," she spat before turning on her heel and stalking away.

---

Tip:

Velidrea: The Capital and the Royal Palace also known as "veil of power" or "hidden crown"

It's Located atop a steep cliff overlooking a black, misty ocean. The palace is encased in towering crystal-like spires, giving it an ominous glow at night.