𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋 | 𝟏𝟖+

𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘 | 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐓

ততততত

𝐓 𝐎 𝐁 𝐈 𝐍

I followed Imogen's caravan for hours in the daylight—from a distance—to make sure nothing came of harm, or if Leighton decided to pull any tricks.

Then, I had to go back to Lagulon. There's a certain asshole sitting at the tavern expecting answers from me about the castle, but gods, I'm not in the mood to deal with this shit. But I do. I tell Gareth the same thing as I do every other fucking night, and he just tells me to do my job. It's predictable.

I'm a predictable petty thief.

Damn her.

Now, I'm laying on the bed in my homestead instead of the castle, ridding myself of the thought of her and trying to replace her with something else. Bottle after bottle, the numbing amber liquid I crave disappears. Yet, all I see are two glorious moons. All I feel are the phantom of featherlight fingers dancing over my scars. I'm a selfish motherfucker whose heart has fallen from a pedestal and into the lap of a princess.

She is beauty, and I? I am the darkness she can never have. I long for her. Desire her. Hell, this might even be love, but when she knows the truth about me, she'll run.

We're living in a fantasy—and we will continue to as long as I keep her from deciphering my past.

This is for Aspen, but now I fear I'm stuck within a full fledged war.

In a drunken haze, I sit up and tear my tunic away from my skin. There's a broken shard of mirror, a reflection of the abhorrent monster that I am. Deformed. Grotesque. Over my shoulder, I gaze at the whipping scars that slaughter my flesh. The sharp sting of each slash burns against my nerves, and always has until a certain princess' fingertips touched them without realizing.

These markings will always be a reminder that my soft heart has hurt me once.

I won't let it harm me again.

𝐓𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐑

No one wants to end up here: the place where the borders of death and life intersect.

Immense stone walls span around the outdoor parameters of the yard. Wet mud squishes between our boots with every step, clinging to the bottoms of leather soles. Drizzle mattes down my clothes to my skin and my brown hair. Even the earthy smell threatening my senses can't overcome the scent of metallic blood.

Yet, here I am.

As a high ranking soldier—the son of the highest ranked official in the Adoridian militia—they only expect the best. I'm a knight who conforms to orders, no matter the request. I know how to govern and fight, to outwit any challenge set before me. Yet, even those higher than the rest all are destined to fall at some point.

Every little mistake piled on top of the next. When the king's orders sent me left, I turned right. I jarred his monarchy, building a revolution for myself to rebel. It soon became apparent that I was an outlier.

Through my rain-drizzled lashes, I look up at my audience. There's several dungeon guards surrounding the outdoor yard, but they all become a blur of sharp iron and metal. Instead, my gaze locks on that of King Leighton. His icy eyes hold no pity for what he's about to do. I'm only a child. A child.

All because I disobeyed his command.

Kill them.

We were fighting on the borders of Thivalon—a kingdom to the north with the most beautiful forests. They were children. She reminded me of Aspen, standing there with wide doe eyes.