The Feral King's Assassin Bride

AELIRA The night my sister died, Morwyn—Lady Morwyn of Draveth, it rained. And I remeber the detail with the kind of clarity that only grief preserves —the sound of it against the window, the way the candles in the hall kept flickering like they already knew something was wrong. I remember sitting in the dark outside the city walls, sharpening a blade i had no business carrying, and waiting for my sister to come find me and scold me for disappearing again. But she never came. I was the one who found her instead. What I saw—a head detached completely from its body. Some things live in the body, in the way your legs stop working and your throat closes and the world even tilts sideways and refuses to right itself. Some things that do not need words. They simply become the before and after of everything you are. Before Morwyn. After Morwyn. And there is no version of me that exists outside of those halves. I was found by Lord Braylen Thorne three days later. While I'm still in the ruins of what had been our home. Still holding my blade. Feeling helpless, anger and pain at the same time. He crouched down in front of me, he was tall man with careful eyes and voice that was warm. And he told me what i needed to know. Who had done this to me—to my sister. "The king ordered this," he said. "The newly crowned High King of Eirenmoor. Emrys Kraelvyn Vorkan. He wanted your sister silenced and your bloodline erased completely. I was too late to stop it. But I'm not too late for you, Aelira." I looked at him and felt nothing at the moment. Then, that was the moment, I think. The moment something essential in me went quiet and did not come back. Lord Braylen called it focus. He called it discipline. He spent centuries building me a life, training me, shaping me, sharpening the nothing into something useful. He gave me purpose when I had none left. He gave me a target. And I spent every day after that becoming the kind of woman who could reach it. My name is Aelira Vaelith Draveth. Eirenmoor doesn't know the name still exist. They all thought I am dead, buried along with my sister, erased from the records. Lord Braylen kepts me hidden, nameless and kept me moving through the shadows of a world that had forgotten me entirely. I learned to be invisible. I learned to be patient. And lastly, I learned everything there was to know about High King Emrys Kraelvyn Vorkan. His patterns. His habits. The way he moved through his own court like something the walls were afraid of, how even the Lord Alphas and Sovereigns in his council dropped their eyes when he entered a room, how the air itself seemed to change when his beast was close to the surface. I had been watching him. For three centuries. I was ready now. He is about to take a mistress to help with a heir and s****l pleasures. This was my opportunity. The Feral King did not take mates. He had not bonded with anyone in the centuries since whatever had broken him had done its work and the evryone had long since stopped expecting him to. > "Do you think this plan would work out, Aelira?" Lord Braylen asked, coming to me as his cloak sweeps the floor of my chamber. "Yes, It will. I will have a talk with the lady. She is likely to agree, seeing she's terrified of the feral king." I had looked into the new woman named Seraphine— the Eirakh noble Emrys was about to take in, gone into her room while she was not noticing and when she speak with her trusted private servant about not wanting to go this arrangement, I knew that was it. "Alright then. I know you will do the right thing. We are now close to our goal." He smiled, patting me at my back. He looked more happy about the plan. Than I was? We. Yes, we. Lord Braylen was assisting in my revenge to help me take down that monster. "Yes, Lord Braylen." I bowed a little. "You should probaly go to sleep now. Tomorrow is going to be a long day." He replied as he made his way out. I turned to my bed and lay down quietly, thinking about how my revenge plans are finally coming to action. > The day I had been waiting for came, dressed in my blood-red cloak, the hood covering half of my face, I proceeded to Seraphine's chamber in the early hours of the morning and slid in through her window. She was up, sitting on her bed and staring straight into nothing. Her royal ceremonial dress by her right. She jolted, having taking in an unfamiliar of scent of me—she turned. Seraphine, a beautiful woman with black hair that flowed down to the start of her waist. And I was expecting her to scream but she didn't. Instead, she narrowed her eyes to me, the candles in the room could not reach the darkness i had stood in. I moved further, taking off my hood. "Lady Seraphine." "Who are you?" She asked, in a very calm tone. "I know you don't want to do this. I do. Let me go in your place." I answered. Her eyes twitched. "Why?" "Do you want to be replaced, instead of being the King's woman who might as well tear you into pieces if you near or cross him." She stood up and came to me. Her hazel eyes that was devoid of emotion earlier came soft. Her lips trembled. "Did Adalwolf sent you? Did he?" Ah. Someone had a lover. Honestly, I didn't know about that. "No. But It will be good if you're alive to make it back to Adalwolf who's waiting for you, My lady. I will swap in with you." "Really? You can? But...the king knew....my scent. He hasn't seen my face though but—" "I do—" We heard footsteps. "There is no time. Do you agree? I assure you are safe. Nessa will meet you at the gate in the seventh hour." She glanced at the door and nooded shakily. "I agree. Gods! I do. I don't want to have a second near that feral beast." She whimpered. No, you do not want to. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> The veil was her idea. She had never been seen publicly, kept her face covered citing a condition, a sensitivity to light, a preference for privacy. Nobody questioned it. Nobody knew which clan Emrys had sourced her from. It meant nobody would notice the switch. And it meant I could be able to walk through those doors and nobody in that grand hall would know they were looking at the wrong woman. About the scent, I did nothing. To spice things up. I was not afraid. I stood outside the wedding hall at the tenth hour of the morning in Seraphine's ceremonial dress, my veil in place, blade kept hidden to the inside of my thigh beneath layers of fabric, and I breathed. Deeply. For Morwyn. For the Draveth name, For every centuries you took from us. The doors pushed opened and I walked through. The hall was full. Nobles. Council members. Sovereign ranked Eirakh in their formal dress, filling the top seating on both sides of the aisle. They were quiet, watchful and still, they were people who learned never to make unecessary noise in the king's presence. The ceiling arched high above, dark stone, carved with old Eirakh symbols. I kept my pace slow and steady. My breathing contrlled. My eyes forward, through the gauze of the veil I could see the aisle stretching ahead of me, the dais at the end of it, the two figures standing there. Kael I recognized him imediately, apex alpha, Emrys's right hand. He stood slightly to the left, watchful. And then there was the King. Emrys. Studying him for centuries, I had seen him from a distance, through windows and across crowded strets when he moved through the city. His eyes found me before I had taken ten steps down the aisle. The way a predator locates a prey, like it had been searching for it. His gaze cut through the veil, through every careful layer of invisibility i had spent constructing. I could see him—no, his beast, the amber glow color flickering bwteen his gold eyes. Burning. It was fighting to take over. Emrys was completely, terrifyinly still. My stride didn't falter. I made sure of that. I kept walking, unhurried. I needed to focus. Something in his jaw tightend. I would not have caught it if not that i've learnt to read him from a distance. I got to Emrys, he said nothing. He looked at me for one more moment, gold and burning, aand then he faced forward. And let the ceremony begin. With a deadly smile from him that almost—almost made me scared.