velora_dusk

A marriage forged in blood. A kingdom built on bones. And a queen who refuses to kneel.

When Elyra Dorne is sent to marry the infamous King Draven Valerian, she knows her life is no longer her own. The world speaks of him in fearful whispers a tyrant wrapped in shadow, a man whose throne was won through war and whose heart is said to be as cold as the steel he wields.

But Elyra is no meek bride. Stripped of choice yet unbroken, she steps into his kingdom with defiance burning in her veins. In a court filled with vipers, where betrayal is currency and secrets are more dangerous than blades, she must survive a world where love is a game and power is the ultimate prize.

Yet, beneath the king’s ruthless exterior lies something else—something dark, something waiting. And as Elyra is drawn deeper into his web, she begins to wonder: Is he the monster the world fears, or something far more terrifying?

The Bride Of Shadow

Chapter Twelve – Shadows in the Dark

Elyra stood by the window, staring at the midnight sky. The palace was quiet, yet the weight of its silence was suffocating. It had been a day since Draven's warning, and his words still echoed in her mind. She was not safe. But from what? Or from whom?

A soft knock at the door made her tense. Not again.

The door creaked open, revealing Lady Selene. The woman stepped inside, closing the door behind her with careful precision.

"You shouldn't be wandering alone at night," Selene murmured, her sharp eyes scanning Elyra's face. "This castle is not as empty as it seems."

Elyra's throat tightened. "What do you mean?"

Selene studied her for a long moment before stepping closer. "You've sensed it too, haven't you? The feeling of being watched?"

Selene sighed, glancing at the window before speaking again. "The king keeps many secrets, Elyra. If you wish to survive here, you must learn which ones to leave untouched."

Elyra narrowed her eyes. "And if I don't?"

Selene's lips pressed into a thin line. "Then you may not live long enough to regret it."

A chill ran down Elyra's spine. She knew the older woman was speaking in earnest. But before she could ask more, Selene turned toward the door.

"Be careful, my lady," she said over her shoulder. "And do not trust too easily."

With that, she was gone, leaving Elyra alone once more.

She shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. The cold wasn't just in the air—it was inside these walls, woven into the very bones of the palace. And Draven…

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of bootsteps in the corridor. Heavy, deliberate. She knew who it was before she even saw him.

Draven stepped into the room without knocking, his presence commanding as ever. His dark eyes swept over her, taking in every detail.

"You shouldn't entertain late-night visitors," he said flatly.

Elyra frowned. "I didn't invite her."

Draven's gaze darkened, and he took a step closer. "Selene is a survivor. She does nothing without reason."

"And what about you?" she shot back. "Do you do nothing without reason, Your Majesty?"

A ghost of a smirk touched his lips, but it held no warmth. "You already know the answer to that."

Silence stretched between them. He was unreadable as always, his expression betraying nothing. And yet, something in his posture something in his eyes felt different.

His jaw tightened slightly, as if he were debating his own answer. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and unwavering. "Because you need to understand something, Elyra."

She held his gaze. "And what's that?"

Draven's fingers brushed the hilt of his sword, a habitual motion, before he leaned in just enough for his voice to be heard only by her.

"There are worse things in this palace than me."

Her breath caught, but before she could respond, he turned and left, the door closing behind him with an weird finality.

Elyra was left alone in the dim candlelight, her heartbeat a deafening rhythm in her ears.