The Devil’s Offer
407 Words
By the third night, she stopped sleeping.
The dreams had grown too sharp.
Each time Asha closed her eyes, she found herself somewhere else—not in the forest, not among wolves, but in a room carved from silver stone, shadows dancing across the walls.
And in the center of it all: Malric.
Always watching.
Always waiting.
---
This time, when she opened her dream-eyes, he was there again. Seated on a throne of ice and steel, crown tilted, eyes gleaming like dying stars.
> “You came,” he said, voice low and dangerous.
> “It’s a dream,” she replied. “I didn’t choose this.”
> “Didn’t you?”
She turned, trying to will herself awake.
> “Why do you haunt me?”
Malric rose, each step quiet thunder. When he stood before her, he didn’t reach for a blade—he offered his hand.
> “Because I know what you are. And I know what you could be.”
> “A weapon?”
> “A queen.”
She met his gaze—and for a second, she saw a flicker of softness behind the steel. Regret, maybe. Or longing. But it vanished too quickly.
> “I will never stand beside you.”
His fingers brushed her cheek.
> “Not yet.”
---
She woke with a gasp, heart racing, the taste of winter still in her mouth.
Outside, Fen was pacing. He stopped when he saw her.
> “You’re pale.”
> “I saw him again.”
Fen’s expression darkened instantly.
> “You have to block him out. He’s bleeding into your mind. Using the bloodline bond. The longer you let him in, the more he’ll twist it.”
> “But what if he’s not trying to break me?” she asked. “What if he’s trying to understand me?”
Fen stepped closer, eyes fierce. “He doesn’t love, Asha. He devours. That’s all the Silver King knows.”
But even as he said it, Asha’s fingers brushed her lips.
Still warm from a kiss that never happened.
---
In Caer Thorne…
Malric stood alone in the mirror chamber, bleeding from his palm. He dropped the frozen rose petals into the fire and whispered:
> “She will come to me. Even if it’s to burn me.”
Then he smiled.
> “Especially if it’s to burn me.”
- Writer
