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 Eighteen – Shadows of the Past

Elyra had little time to process Draven's words before the meeting dispersed. The war council moved like men accustomed to the weight of bloodshed, their murmured conversations laced with tension as they filed out of the chamber. Yet even as the doors shut behind them, she could feel the weight of their gazes lingering in the space they had left behind critism assessing, judging.

Draven remained seated, his fingers idly tracing the edge of a goblet, his mind clearly elsewhere. Elyra hesitated before speaking. "You truly believe these attacks are unnatural?"

His sharp gaze flicked to hers, searching. "I don't believe. I know."

A chill ran through her. "Then why hasn't the court been informed?"

"Because fear is a weapon," Draven said smoothly, leaning back in his chair. "One that can be turned against us if wielded improperly. I will not hand my enemies an advantage."

Elyra frowned. "And yet, you chose to tell me."

Silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken thoughts. Then, in a measured voice, Draven said, "Because you are not a fool. And I need to know if you are a liability or an asset."

The words were cold, cutting, but they did not surprise her. He had given her a chance to prove herself, and now he was watching, waiting. Testing her.

Straightening, she met his gaze without wavering. "Then tell me everything. If you expect me to be more than a pawn, I need to understand the game."

Something in Draven's expression shifted slightly, so fleeting, she almost missed it. He stood abruptly, his movements controlled. "Walk with me."

Elyra followed him through the dimly lit corridors of the palace, the torches casting flickering shadows on the stone walls. The silence between them was heavy, yet not uncomfortable. He led her to a secluded balcony overlooking the outer courtyard, where the crisp night air carried the faint scent of burning wood and steel a strong reminder of the war that loomed just beyond the castle walls.

Draven's voice was quieter now, almost distant. "I was a child when I first saw death."

Elyra glanced at him, surprised by the admission. He rarely spoke of his past.

"My father was a ruthless man," he continued. "He believed that fear was the only path to power. That mercy was a weakness. He ruled with bloodied hands, and in the end, it was those same hands that led him to his grave."

A strange feeling twisted in Elyra's chest. Pity? Understanding? She wasn't sure. "And you?" she asked softly. "Do you rule with fear?"

Draven turned to her then, his gaze unreadable. "I rule to survive."

For the first time, Elyra thought she saw something beneath the layers of steel and shadow that made up the man before her. A glimpse of the boy he had once been the boy forced to become a king far too soon.

She stepped closer, barely realizing it. "Draven—"

A sudden knock at the chamber doors shattered the moment.

Draven exhaled sharply, his cold mask snapping back into place. "Enter."

A guard stepped forward, bowing low. "Your Majesty, the captive has awoken."

Elyra frowned, glancing at Draven. "A captive?"

Draven's expression was unreadable once more. "A survivor from the last attack."

Her pulse quickened. If this man had answers ,if he knew anything about the so-called ghosts that plagued their lands, then this was their chance to uncover the truth.

Draven turned to her, his gaze steady. "You wished to understand the game?"

His lips curled into something that wasn't quite a smile. "Then let's begin."