GORVANE'S POV
Rhazien let go of her, and her feet hit the wooden floor with a soft thud. She wobbled, just slightly, catching herself before she could stumble. Her spine straightened, shoulders drawn tight, chin tilted up with practiced defiance.
I watched closely.
She didn't fidget or blink, but the way her fingers twitched by her side gave her away.
She was trying to look ready. But in truth, she looked untouched and unbothered.
Even though her chest lifted off with every shallow breath, the way her throat moved as she swallowed hard. Her body knew what her pride refused to admit.
She stood like she was armored, but all I saw was her nakedness.
I leaned back on my chair, my fingers drumming against the ancient wood of the armrest. Her eyes darted around to the ceiling, the floor, avoiding mine at all costs.
She was trying to keep her mind busy, trying to keep the fear hidden from me.
My gaze settled upon her, pinning her down. I saw the tremor in her hands, the tightening of her jaw, and a dark satisfaction coiled in my gut knowing that at least there was a lingering fear in her. I would like her to feel it and make her understand the vast chasm that separated us.
"Leave. Both of you."
Velcira and Rhazien slipped into the shadows, the door clicking shut behind them.
She stood there, alone. I heard the faint, uneven sound of her breath. The fabric of her clothes shifted as her arms moved, crossing and uncrossing, searching for warmth that wasn't there.
Her shoulders trembled.
My voice finally broke the silence. "You understand your position here, wolf princess?"
Kaerith's shoulders tensed as she threw her head to the side. Her gaze fixed on the intricate carvings of the far wall.
If I had asked that question to anyone… If anyone had strips in my presence, they would have stammered apologies, and begged for mercy.
They knew. Everyone in this citadel knew what awaited those who dared to cross me. Their fear was a palpable offering. But Kaerith… She remained stubbornly silent even though she had already glimpsed what that darkness was made of.
"You are one stubborn bitch!"
I locked my gaze on her and let the room fall quiet. Then, I reached for the dark energy that clung to the walls. It moved when I called it, silent, cold, unseen and I sent it toward her.
It wasn't a strike or a hit. It wasn't like the pain the crystal had given her. This was worse. This was a quiet and deep, creeping under her skin, to rip it apart piece by piece whatever kept her sane.
She froze. Her shoulders tensed, and her breath caught.
She didn't know where the feeling came from, only that it was inside her now, poking, and twisting her guts.
Her eyes flicked to the floor, to the wall, and I watched.
This wasn't about hurting her. I wanted to break her slowly, without even laying a finger on her.
The air around her shimmered. There was a faint distortion in the light, radiating outwards from her, a strange aura. I watched her, focusing on her reactions, searching for any sign of agony, or perhaps any flicker of distress.
But there was none.
Instead, her brow furrowed, a look of profound confusion clouding her face. Was that how she perceived my energy? My power?
She didn't feel the agonizing burn that would have crippled any other werewolf? She didn't feel the searing pain that would have reduced their minds to nothing but screaming voids? My powers were merely a sensation to her.
It was unsettling, yes. I could see that in the barely perceptible tremor that ran through her. But, there was something else. Her eyes narrowed as if she was trying to place a half-forgotten memory.
I didn't expect this.
The Dreadborn energy was poison to mortal bodies. Anyone else would've screamed by now, dropped to the ground, begging for it to stop. That power burned, tore, and broke whatever it touched. But not her?
She stood there, like the pain couldn't reach her. It didn't make sense. It was like something inside her recognized the power and didn't reject it. Like she wasn't fully mortal. Or worse. Did she belong to it in a way I didn't understand?
As I kept the energy on her, something stirred in me. It was something I could name. It wasn't fear. It wasn't anger or pleasure or anything I usually fed from.
It was something else. It felt cold, quiet and deep. It wasn't hers this time, it was mine. Something I hadn't felt in years. A strange, crawling unease, like I was looking at a puzzle with the final piece missing. Somehow, she was the piece.
It was like a whisper from my previous life, something buried deep in time, long before betrayal and death claimed me. The feeling brushed against my mind, too familiar to ignore.
She was an anomaly. A break in the pattern. My power had never failed before. It bent worlds. It shattered minds. But here she stood, breathing, still, eyes locked on me with something that wasn't defiance.
That ripple of unease moved again through me. I was the Dreadborn King. My will shaped this citadel. My command ruled over pain, fear, death. And yet, in this moment, watching her endure what should've broken her,
I felt something I hadn't felt in a long, long time. Doubt.
Yet this mortal, fragile human, a woman born of my enemy's blood stood where others had died. She wasn't just resisting me, she was shaking the very ground beneath everything I believed. My power should've bent her. My presence alone should've shattered her will. But here she was, triggering something in me.
She was threatening the foundation of everything I was, of what it meant to be Dreadborn…to be feared.
My stare darkened, burning into her. If looks could tear bone from skin, hers would've already turned to ash.
"What's happening to me?" She stared down at her arms. "What are you doing to me?"
I chuckled dryly. "Do you not understand how much I despise you? You seem not to be aware of the enmity between your ancestors and I."
I needed to unravel the mystery of Kaerith. How dare she stir forgotten memories from the dark heart of a Dreadborn King.
"I don't care if you hate me. I have been hated my whole life so you won't make a difference. But, why do you keep hurting me?" She paused, her fingers clenching around the fabric of her dress. "For how long do I have to keep surviving you? Your wrath?"
For a moment, I knew the game had changed. This prey of mine was… different. I stalked forward, and Kaerith flinched. Her shoulders tightened, as if bracing for a blow. The fear was evident all over her, yet she found some way to hide it.
"The story has been passed on for centuries. You have no idea who I am. I derive pleasure from seeing people hurt. You are just a sample of your father…inflicting pain on you is like doing same unt—"
She cut me off, her eyes glaring at me as she shook her head. "No. You are wrong. You have no idea but I am not my father's daughter."
"Then who are you? Answer me!"
She lifted her gaze, her pale violet eyes ringed with red clouded with exhaustion met mine for the first time. It was maddening. Utterly captivating.
"You are silent," I observed. "You are meant to beg, and plead. Why do you not?"
"What is there to say?" Her voice was weak and hoarse, yet it carried a surprising strength. "You hold all the power. My words would change nothing."
A cold smile curled across my lips. "An astute observation. But perhaps not entirely accurate. Words, mortal, can sometimes reveal more than actions. They can expose weaknesses."
Her jaw tightened. "And what weakness do you seek to expose in me?"
"Your fear, little nyx," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. "The fear you hoard so jealously. The fear that allowed you to survive."
She flinched, a more visceral reaction this time. "I felt no fear. Not of you."
The lie that spilled out from her lips was so obvious. I could practically taste the bitter tang of it on my tongue.
"A lie," I stated, my voice flat. "I felt it. A tremor beneath the surface. It is what saved you when others died under my touch."
She swallowed hard, her gaze flickering to the floor. "I do not understand."
"Of course you don't," I scoffed, taking another step closer. "You are merely a mortal. Limited. Fragile. But you are also… an anomaly. A curse that I have to break! You are meant to die."