Kingdom of Ashbourne, 1723
The dungeon smelled of death and despair.
Prince Valerian's hands trembled as he cradled Elara's lifeless body, her neck bearing the cruel marks of rope. The stones beneath him were cold, unforgiving—like the truth he refused to see.
"No," he whispered, voice breaking. "No, no,, no..."
Her skin was already cooling. Those eyes that once gazed at him with such tenderness now stared at nothing. Empty. Accusing.
"You left me," he choked out, pressing his forehead to hers. "You betrayed me and then you left me. How could you?"
But the dead don't answer.
Footsteps echoed down the dungeon stairs. Valerian didn't look up. He knew who it was—his father's men, come to collect the body of the "traitor." The peasant girl who'd dared to seduce a prince. The whore who'd slept with half the kingdom for gold and promises of a crown.
At least, that's what they'd told him.
That's what he'd seen with his own eyes.
"Your Highness," Captain Morris said carefully. "We must take her now. The King has ordered—"
"Get out." Valerian's voice was hollow. Dead.
"My Prince—"
"GET OUT!" The roar echoed through the dungeon, and even Morris—a battle-hardened soldier—flinched.
They left him alone with his dead love.
Valerian held her closer, blood from his own wounded hands staining her burial gown. He'd tried to cut her down, to save her, but he'd been too late. His father had made sure of that.
"I loved you," he whispered against her cold lips. "I loved you more than my crown, more than my kingdom, more than my own soul. And you... you used me. Laughed at me with Cassian. Spread your legs for anyone with coin."
His tears mixed with the blood.
"But even now, even after everything... you're mine. You'll always be mine."
Something dark stirred in his chest—something that had nothing to do with grief and everything to do with rage. Pure, consuming rage.
"Do you hear me, Elara?" His voice dropped to a deadly whisper. "Wherever your soul goes, whatever life you live next... you are mine. I will find you. I will have you. And I will never, never let another man touch what belongs to me."
The temperature in the dungeon plummeted. Frost crept across the walls.
Valerian didn't notice. His eyes had gone black.
"This I vow on my blood," he continued, voice echoing with something not quite human anymore. "On my soul, on the darkness itself. Every life you live, you will be mine. I will never let another have you. Not Cassian. Not anyone."
The candles blew out.
In the sudden darkness, Prince Valerian smiled.
Three days later...
The duel happened at dawn.
Lord Cassian stood in the throne room, sword drawn, facing the mad prince. Luna—Cassian's sister, Valerian's unwanted bride—watched in horror from the gallery.
"She was innocent," Cassian said quietly, desperately. "I have proof, Valerian. Your father orchestrated everything. That man she was found with? Paid by the King. The drugs in her wine. The lies. All of it."
Valerian laughed—a sound devoid of sanity.
"Of course you'd say that. You wanted her for yourself."
"I was her barrister! I was trying to save her from—"
"From me?" Valerian's blade flashed. "You wanted to save her from loving me?"
Their swords met with a crack that shook the palace.
They fought like demons. Cassian was skilled, trained, but Valerian fought with the strength of madness. Of a man with nothing left to lose.
"Listen to me!" Cassian blocked a wild slash. "I never loved Elara! I never touched her! She loved only you—she died loving only you!"
"LIAR!"
Valerian's blade found flesh. Cassian gasped, stumbling.
But not before his own sword pierced Valerian's chest.
Both men fell.
Luna screamed.
Valerian lay on the cold marble, blood pooling beneath him, and laughed. Actually laughed.
"I lost," he whispered, eyes finding Cassian's fading form. "Loved a traitor... married my enemy's sister... died by my rival's hand..."
His breath rattled.
"But if there's another life... if death isn't the end..." His voice grew stronger, darker, as his eyes turned completely black. "I will have my revenge. Cassian, you will watch her suffer and never have her. Luna, you will know the pain of losing what you love. And Elara..."
He smiled as death took him.
"You will be mine in every lifetime.
Forever."
The palace shook. Somewhere, something screamed—a sound not of this world.
And Prince Valerian died with a curse on his lips and darkness in his soul.
That night...
The Kingdom of Ashbourne burned.
Not with fire, but with something worse. A plague swept through—quick, merciless, supernatural. Within hours, half the population was dead. The King. The Queen. Guards. Servants. Nobles.
Luna found her brother's body in the throne room, cold and gray. She held him, weeping, and felt her own mind start to fracture.
"He cursed us," she whispered. "Valerian cursed us all."
Within a week, Luna was dead too—found in her chambers, eyes wide with terror, though no mark was on her body.
The entire kingdom fell to ruin. Fires. Earthquakes. Madness.
Everyone fled or died.
Everyone except the palace itself.
Ashton Palace—Valerian's pride, his home, his prison—stood untouched. Perfect. Waiting.
And in its halls, something walked.
Something that had once been Prince Valerian.
Something that would wait centuries for her to return.
"To Be Continued"