❛WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU MAKE THE TEN MOST POWERFUL GODS ALIVE PLAY A GAME OF MUSICAL CHAIRS WITH ONE SEAT?❜
They fight - to the death.
They fight over three crowns and a throne with steel spiked maces. They despair a little more everyday keeping thei...
"Have a good day, Lord Valmont. I will see you again on the day you die," she cruelly laughed, and then took her brother's arm, vanishing into nothingness.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
HARTINGTON CASTLE, ALNWICK, STORMHOLT.
EDWINA
THERE HE SAT, LOOKING AT me in a way no one had ever looked at me.
His hands still shook, never steadying, not even once as the mournful story poured out of his lips.
Some nights I'd forget my own name, remembering nothing but hazy memories.
Some nights I'd lie still and frozen in my own nightmares, clouded with fear.
Some nights I'd go into shock, scared into quiet and dim oblivion.
And on all those nights, the only thing that would ever drag me out of my treacherous brain... would be that look.
No one had ever looked at me quite like that.
That look made me wonder just how many people he'd killed.
And this... guilt in his eyes - it made me realize that he'd probably lost count.
He'd gone completely still as the last word left him, the tale meandering off into the deep silence. He wasn't even breathing, he wasn't even moving - just looking at me with that painful gleam in his sorrowful eyes.
Say something, the silence seemed to speak.
"I'm sorry," I softly whispered. "I'm so sorry, Tristan." I was horrified - terrified - it wasn't just the death which he had committed, it was the very idea of the ominous death hanging right over his neck.
He said nothing for a minute, staring off into the distance, eyes glimmering with memories.
"You're too clever for your own good," Tristan quietly spoke, eyes gleaming with curiosity. "When did you figure it out?"
Too afraid to speak, I gently took his hand and rested it between the warmth of my palms, feeling his cold skin shudder and tremble.
"Ever since - ever since that day - that day we fought. You asked me... you think my life is some precious thing to me?" I testily asked, cautious.
He exhaled slowly, the slightest moment, and closed his eyes.
"That was long ago. I thought you didn't care much for what I spoke, much less remember it," his voice was bitter and sharp, guarded and defensive.
