And, judging by the growl, he’s pissed. But instead of shrinking back, I take another step towards him. Something about his scent is drawing me in.
The heat emanating from my core spreads up my chest. I lick my lips, swaying up another step. The giant at the top is still. Since he’s wearing a cloak like mine, his hooded features are swallowed by shadow. I want to see him. I need to see him. My fingers flex, aching to touch…
I take a deep breath. “Are you the king?”
The figure draws back and lets forth a roar so loud, it brings tears to my eyes. The blood-curdling sound punches through the hypnotic spell of his scent like a bucket of icy water being dumped over my head. A sick, primal terror races down my spine and into my legs.
Without a second’s hesitation, I whirl around, and race back the way I came.
FOUR
Bestian
Someone was here.Someone managed to cross my impermeable barriers. And not just any someone…
A female.
I’ve been pacing my chamber ever since, the light from the moons casting a lilac glow over the flagstones. The distant roar of the waves crashing against the cliffs mocks me like an echo of my own shock at the slender stranger appearing in my ballroom like an apparition.
Who was she?
For a decade, nobody has entered my castle. I’ve spent countless sun cycles in a deep slumber, safe in my fortress. This place is my retreat from the world. From my people. My kingdom. At times, I wake to correspond with the advisors who represent me in Medea City, but most of the time, I am in a self-induced coma.
My castle and grounds are impenetrable—my magic ensures that. I use a spell of my own making to keep the world out, keep myself in.
How did she get in?
My thoughts are a jumble as I down cup after cup ofblix. The strong liquor barely takes the edge off but it’s better than nothing.
The Red Death, she’d said, in her strange-sounding accent. Could it be true? After all these years, could that Ulf-forsaken curse have returned? The mere mention of it is enough to turn the blood in my veins to ice.
She saw the ballroom, and the statues I destroyed in a rage. The smaller with the three figures—my father, mother, and myself as a child—still stands, albeit beheaded. The largest—my likeness as a grown prince—lies in pieces.
Time heals all wounds. That had been my great hope. Alas, it turned out to be yet another falsehood.
I summon thewhispsto remove the statue’s remains. During my deep sleep, my servants were dormant. Now, for some reason, they are infused with new energy. They cleaned up the rest of the palace, they might as well get rid of the stone debris. I have other reminders of my family.
I prowl to the gallery where my parents’ portrait hangs. If the intruder had ventured further in, she would have seen it. Painted by one of the greatest artists on Ulfaria, my parents seem alive once more, their hair lifted gently by an invisible breeze, their eyes gleaming with kindness and wisdom.
It’s a knife to the heart.
My mother was a typical Omega—kind, sweet, nurturing. She doted on me, and often expressed her sadness that I was an only child. My father was huge and gruff and stern, and as a youth, I was terrified of him. Now, I see so much of him in myself.
I could have saved them, but I failed.
I was a fool.
With a groan, I stumble back to my bedchamber, refilling my empty cup for the umpteenth time, wishing I had the power to dull my grief.
It’s been many moons since the Red Death came to Medela. A mysterious and terrible curse swept across the kingdom, leaving loss and destruction in its wake. Few were spared.
I searched for a cure, and my efforts nearly destroyed me.
But my parents paid the ultimate price. It is my fault they died.
I sink down onto my bed, burying my face in my hands. The grief is as raw as the first day. I yearn to go back to sleep, to lose myself in the peaceful slumber of oblivion.
Instead, I take a deep breath and exhale slowly, my mind churning.
