(TW: Violence/threats/suffocation)
Ferox gasped, his breath ragged as he clutched the edges of his casket.
Callidus stood motionless, his eyes locked on the surreal sight before him. The silence of the Royal Tombs seemed to amplify the haunting sound of Ferox's tortured wheezes, each rasping inhale a reminder of the shattered boundaries between life and death. The very concept of mortality, once considered absolute, now appeared malleable and elusive.
How could Ferox be alive?
It defied all reason and understanding.
The walls of the tomb seemed to close in on Callidus, suffocating him with the weight of the impossible. Ferox had been dead for fifty-five days. For fifty-five days, Callidus had been the crown prince. And now, in a single cataclysmic moment, his once secure future lay in ruins, destroyed by Ferox's unexpected return.
As the initial shock subsided, Callidus's disbelief transformed into a burning rage.
How could Ferox be alive?
He could feel the years of resentment and bitterness rise to the surface, a molten fire raging within him. How dare Ferox defy death and disrupt the carefully constructed path that Callidus had envisioned for himself? It felt like a cruel mockery of his ambitions and desires.
A cruel mockery of fate.
Callidus's voice, dripping with venom and seething rage, cut through the heavy silence of the tomb like a poisoned arrow seeking its mark, "Ferox."
Ferox's gasp echoed through the chamber, his breath catching in his throat as his head snapped towards Callidus. His wide eyes, filled with a mixture of fear and desperation, locked with Callidus's blazing gaze.
"...C-Callidus...?" Ferox stammered, his voice a raspy offence, "Callidus, where...? What happened...?"
The sound of Ferox's voice grated against Callidus's ears.
(A sound he had never wanted nor expected to hear again.)
Callidus's anger festered, twisting within him like a venomous serpent.
Ferox's uneven breaths ricocheted off the stone, his gaze shifting between Callidus's furious presence and the cracked granite of their father's casket.
"How?" Callidus demanded, his voice laced with sharp edges of fury. "How are you alive?"
Ferox's face twisted as he struggled to sit up straight in the casket, his body trembling. "I... I died...?" he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. "It was darkness and it clung to me. And...then I couldn't breathe. And then I...I..."
A flicker of confusion briefly replaced the burning anger in Callidus's eyes as he attempted to make sense of Ferox's fragmented explanation. The pieces of the puzzle seemed to defy logic and reason, presenting a reality that contradicted everything Callidus had come to accept.
"You were sealed inside the casket." Callidus said, his voice clipped. "Of course, you couldn't breathe. You shouldn't have needed to breathe. You were dead."
Ferox made no sound except for his trembling efforts to free himself from the confines of his casket.
Callidus sent a sweeping blast of freezing air to push him back inside. "And you shall stay dead." He said coldly.
The air surged around Ferox, sending him sprawling backward into the confines of the casket. His body collided with the plush lining, the impact jolting through him and leaving him trembling with fear and confusion.
YOU ARE READING
Book Two: The Larkspur's Longing ~ A tale of deep obsession and devotion
Romance(Sequel to The Marigold's Larkspur) Crown Prince Callidus finds himself on the cusp of achieving his dreams. With Princess Cressida by his side, the woman he has long yearned for, their future seems promising. However, a formidable obstacle threaten...
