CHAPTER 10 Shadow Over the Heart

The masked figure's voice slithered through the cold like smoke.Low. Male. Ageless.

"Evelyne…"

Her name felt wrong in his mouth like a secret spoken in a language not meant for the living.

The children had vanished into the hedge, their soft cries swallowed by the snow-laced air. The mythical fae who had once danced in Evelyne's hair were gone, fled like embers in a storm.

But Evelyne stood still.

She wasn't trembling. Not anymore.

"Who are you?" she said.

Her voice was stronger than she expected.

The masked man tilted his head. Slowly.

He only smirked cold, knowing.

"Ask the man who carries fire but bleeds frost."

And just like that he vanished into the mist.

The air seemed to snap with his absence.

Suddenly—

"Princess…?"

A soft cry.

The two children emerged from behind the frost bush hedges. The little boy's lip trembled, blood on his forehead from where he had hit the stone. The girl clung to his sleeve, wide-eyed and afraid.

Then came footsteps fast, alarmed.

Gasps. Whispers.

"What happened here?"

"Gods, the boy's bleeding!"

"Someone fetch Madam Alira!"

The head maid stormed in, tall and rigid in her ash-grey gown. Her dark eyes immediately darted between Evelyne and the children.

"Your Highness," said Madam Alira with a sharp tone,

"what did you do to these poor children?"

Evelyne stepped back, stunned. "I—nothing."

But Alira's expression darkened, mouth curling in disdain.

"I warned the Lord Duke bringing a cursed soul into this house would bring misfortune."

"You enchant beasts. Now you frighten children. What next? Blood on the snow?"

The children hesitated. The girl opened her mouth but Evelyne raised her hand gently and smiled at them.

"It's alright," she said softly, "go now. You're safe."

The boy sniffled and the girl looked regretful, but they turned away. Rinna arrived breathlessly, moving to Evelyne's side.

Later, back in her chamber, Rinna silently brushed Evelyne's hair and peeked through the balcony window.

"That man… who was he?" she asked.

Evelyne didn't answer.

"Do you think the Duke will return soon?" Rinna whispered, her fingers touching the ring on Evelyne's finger.

"He left without saying goodbye."

Evelyne stared up at the moonlight, her thoughts consumed by the riddle.

"The man who carries fire but bleeds frost..."

What did it mean?

After three days of relentless thinking and silent worry as they traveled across the border into the West

The wind howled like a beast.

Snow bit at their cloaks, sharp as knives. Yet they pressed forward, horses slick with sweat, boots stained with blood and slush. It was the third night without rest, and still the Western Mountains loomed ahead like ancient gods carved from ice.

Acheron rode at the front silent, relentless.

Behind him, Dain grunted as he struck down a serpent-limbed beast that slithered from the trees, its fangs gleaming with frost-poison. Its body curled, twitched, then went still.

"That's the fifth one today," Dain huffed.

"Any more of your cursed exes we need to kill on the way, Captain?"

Severin snorted from the rear. "He's in a hurry, Dain. You'd be too if you left a pretty princess in a manor full of secrets."

"Ah," Dain grinned.

"So this is what love looks like on Acheron Vale. Brooding. Bleeding. Three days without sleep."

Acheron didn't speak. He didn't need to.

He only turned slowly and fixed them with a stare sharp enough to slice through bone. The silence that followed was immediate.

Even the wind stopped.

"I take it back," Severin murmured. "Maybe it's obsession."

Still, his smirk didn't last. As another shadow moved through the trees, Acheron dismounted in one fluid motion, sword already in hand.

The beast lunged.

But the Duke was faster.

With one clean strike, he carved through the creature's thick hide. Blood spattered across his glove, steaming as it met the frozen air.

He paused.

Staring at the stain, deep crimson, already soaking into the snow. He flexed his fingers, remembering the riddle whispered by the masked figure.

"Born of frost, yet forged in flame."

Was it a curse?

Or a punishment?

His jaw tightened. Somewhere behind him, Severin noticed.

"She's stronger than you think, Acheron," he said.

"You've got Evelyne now. She'll survive. You need to focus."

"Unless the East gets to her first," Dain added, wiping his blade.

"They say there's something stirring there. An item… old magic. Something powerful enough to twist fate."

"Old magic always comes with a price," Severin muttered.

"And the East always comes with a lie," Acheron finished.

The trail grew narrower, the trees more twisted. But they rode harder.

No rest. No food. No fire.

It would take a normal man three weeks to cross into the West.

They did it in three days.

As dawn began to bleed over the jagged cliffs, Dain yawned.

"What do you think? Will your princess be waiting in a tower? Or halfway to killing her maid for overstepping the tea?"

"Knowing her?" Severin grinned.

"Probably already found the library and started rewriting the royal laws."

Acheron didn't smile.

He didn't have to.

Because even across the wind, the howl of something ancient and furious echoed through the peaks ahead.

And he knew

This was only the beginning.

After three days of tense silence and scattered thoughts, the company finally crossed the golden borders of the West. The sun dipped low as the towering white walls of the Western palace came into view its domes glowing under amber light like something out of a story.

At the grand gates, a figure awaited them, not with pomp, but with a wide, familiar grin. King Caelum Aurelius, the youngest ruler among the realms and the golden-haired monarch of the West, personally came to greet them.

He was not just a king he was Acheron's childhood companion, closer than any brother could ever be.

"You really brought my soldiers to their knees, Acheron,"

Caelum teased, his voice light, though his eyes briefly narrowed at the weary men trailing behind the Northern Duke. The soldiers bowed low in respect.

Acheron, dismounting, gave a nod toward them. "They're from the North," he said simply.

Caelum broke into laughter. "Of course, they are hard as northern ice and twice as stubborn."

His smile softened briefly.

"I heard about the wedding. I'm sorry. And for calling you here before the ceremony I shouldn't have pulled you so soon."

"It's all right," Acheron said, his voice low. "We'll handle this first."

Together they walked into the palace, the wide corridors filled with gold banners and the scent of white roses. They headed straight to the war room.

Inside, maps and sigils littered the long table. The atmosphere shifted. The laughter died.

"The East is moving," Caelum said grimly.

"They've begun reinforcing their southern ports, and there are whispers they're planning to destroy the Western realm from the inside out."

Before Acheron could respond, the chamber doors swung open.

Princess Elira Aurelius entered, the living embodiment of Western beauty graceful, golden-haired, and with an aura that captured every eye. But unlike her calm and diplomatic brother, Elira was fiery and obsessive, and her affection for Acheron was no secret.

She strolled in without invitation, brushing a hand through her golden curls as she approached Acheron.

"You've come back," she said, her voice laced with longing.

"Did you miss your beloved? When will you finally propose to me, Acheron?"

Acheron didn't answer. His gaze remained on the Eastern border lines.

"Elira, stop," Caelum said firmly. "The Duke is already betrothed."

She stepped closer, her violet eyes searching his face.

"You once said you'd come back for me. Was it a lie?"

Caelum quickly stepped in. "Callista, this isn't the time—"

"Why?" she snapped, her voice sharper than usual. "Because he chose another?"

Severin leaned toward Dain, whispering just loud enough,

"You'd never guess they share the same royal blood."

Dain nodded, though his eyes lingered on the retreating princess. "Still, she's... something else."

"Not compared to Evelyne," Severin said proudly.

aelum turned to a nearby servant. "Please escort the Lady Evelyne to her chambers to rest."

The lady-in-waiting bowed and moved swiftly, but Lyselle clung to Acheron's arm like a child demanding sweets. "You can't just leave me! Not for her! I love you—"

Acheron's jaw twitched.

With one sharp movement, he lifted Elira up by the waist—like a child throwing a tantrum—and carried her to the doors.

"Put me down!" she shrieked.

He did. Outside the room. And shut the heavy doors with finality.

Her wails echoed through the marble halls.

Caelum let out a long sigh, rubbing his temples. "You have no idea how much I've missed seeing that."

Silence fell. Then laughter genuine, familiar escaped the king.

"I'm glad you're here, Acheron. Really."

Now, with the chamber cleared and only the two of them inside, the weight of war returned.

The king exhaled heavily, rubbing his forehead.

"She rarely speaks to anyone but you, you know."

Acheron said nothing.

"She's brilliant, but…" Caelum looked away.

"She only opens her heart to you. And I get it now. Evelyne Rosenthal—"

"I've known her since we were children," Acheron said firmly.

He reached under the table and pulled out a worn scroll. "Now… about the reason I summoned you."

He unrolled the parchment, revealing a strange black feather pressed into molten wax except it wasn't a feather. It glimmered like metal, edged like a blade. A scale.

"This arrived a few days ago," Caelum said. "No messenger. It came through the window, left beside my war map."

Acheron frowned, staring at the object. "That's no bird."

Caelum nodded. "No. It's Zepharal."

A moment of silence.

"The Storm Devourer," Caelum continued.

"Born from the clouds. Said to breathe lightning, command hurricanes, and tear through battalions like paper. Once controlled by the High Beast Tamers now extinct."

"Even they couldn't tame the Zepharal," Acheron said grimly.

"It broke free. Destroyed an entire kingdom in a single night. That's why they buried it. That's why they vanished."

"They say the East seeks to awaken it," Caelum murmured. "If they succeed—"

"They'll burn the continent," Acheron finished grimly.

"Maybe not," Caelum said.

"Someone has found something. And if the East harnesses the Zepharal…"

"Then we need the Luna Umbra" Acheron whispered.

Caelum blinked. "You've heard of it?"

Acheron nodded slowly.

"It's the only beast said to rival the Zepharal. Hidden away by the Tamers. Too powerful to be allowed to fall into the wrong hands."

"The Tamers were brilliant, but secretive to a fault," Caelum muttered.

"Always hiding things."

Acheron moved toward the tall window. There, perched on the ledge, was a raven. Its feathers shimmered faintly in the light unnaturally.

Acheron moved to the window. Outside, night was falling, casting the realm in cold indigo. On the balcony railing sat a raven, black as ink, feathers shimmering faintly in the wind.

It turned its head and whispered a single word—no louder than a breath:"Evelyne..."

Acheron clenched his jaw.

Acheron's breath caught.

He turned to Caelum.

"We need to investigate the border. Between the West and East. Whatever the East is planning—it begins there."

Caelum stood. "Then we ride at dawn."

Caelum stepped away from the window, placing a hand on Acheron's shoulder. "You look like death warmed over," he said with a tired smile. "Even Northerners need rest."

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not. I'm ordering you to rest. That includes your men. We'll ride at dawn. Tonight, you sleep."

Acheron hesitated but eventually gave a slight nod.

As the guards approached to dismiss the war table, Acheron turned back toward Caelum.

"But before that… there's something you need to hear."

Caelum crossed his arms, brow furrowed. "More than cursed ravens and beast legends?"

Acheron turned to him. His voice was quiet, but the weight behind it silenced the room.

"I assume you've already heard the rumors about Evelyne."

"Of course I have. Everyone has. The cursed Thorn Princess, right? That every man she weds dies mysteriously."

Acheron's expression darkened.

"But," Caelum continued,

"I don't believe that nonsense. I don't mock her and I don't pity her either. If anything, I'm glad it's you. You've always had a knack for surviving things others couldn't."

"Because it's not just rumor, Caelum. Something is following her. Something ancient… and alive. I don't think it wants her harmed. But I don't think it's human, either."

Caelum straightened. "You're serious."

He paused, letting the silence settle between them like a blade waiting to be drawn.

"There's something," Acheron said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "Something I can't explain. It's following her. Always."

Caelum raised a brow, curious now. "You mean the curse?"

"No." Acheron's eyes flicked toward the door, as if checking the shadows.

"Just before we left for the North. At Lord Caeron's manor."

Caelum narrowed his eyes. "What happened?"

Acheron stepped forward slowly, like a man recounting a memory burned into the back of his mind.

"It was late. Evelyne had gone to rest. I stayed behind in the corridor outside her chambers. And then… the shadows moved."

 His voice was sharp. "It was alive. It crept across the marble like smoke no footsteps, no sound. And then it rose… tall, narrow… formless."

Caelum listened, silent.

"It touched me," Acheron said, voice low now. He placed a gloved hand over his chest. "Here. Right over my heart. And it burned. Not like fire. Like it was pulling something out of me. Ripping."

Caelum's expression twisted in alarm. 

Acheron looked him in the eye. "It spoke."

"What did it say?"

Acheron's jaw clenched. "'Don't hurt Evelyne.' That's all. Over and over again."

Caelum stared. "It spoke to you."

Acheron nodded. "And then... it looked at me. I don't know how it had no face but I felt its gaze. As if it were studying me."

A pause.

"And then?" Caelum whispered.

"It vanished," Acheron said. "Just like that. As if the wind had scattered it. But when I looked up… there was a raven watching from the rafters. Black feathers, eyes like dying stars."

Caelum let out a long breath, struggling to find words. "Gods."

"I haven't told anyone," Acheron admitted.

"Not even Evelyne. I don't want to frighten her more than she already is. But whatever follows her it's not a curse. It's something older. And it's protecting her. Possessively."

Caelum nodded, his voice steadier than expected. "Then we find out what it is."

"You'll help me?"

"You're like a brother to me, Acheron," Caelum said.

"Of course I will. If something dares threaten you or Evelyne, I'll drag it from the shadows myself."

Acheron looked away, something unreadable flickering in his gaze. "It's not just about threats. It's about control. If the East knows of this... if they know how to use it…"

"They won't," Caelum said firmly. "We'll uncover it first."

Silence filled the room for a moment, heavy and unspoken.

Then a soft rustling.

They both turned toward the high window.

There, on the ledge once more, perched the raven.

It watched them, unmoving, its head tilted slightly silent but listening.

And then, in the quiet, it whispered:

"Evelyne…"