Chapter 2: THE SUMMONS OF BLOOD
1152 Words
Elara’s POV
My stomach made another low, angry growl, the kind that echoed in the stillness and made me wish I could disappear.
The room around me was too quiet, too grand, too wrong. The Alpha Prince’s private chamber was all sharp edges and polished steel, nothing soft except the bed I was afraid to touch. I didn’t belong here. A slave didn’t belong anywhere near royalty, especially one the Moon had chosen by mistake.
Kaelen stood by the tall arched window, shirtless, the pale bandage wrapped around his shoulder already stained with crimson. The morning light sliced through the curtains, catching on the ink of his runes and the faint shimmer of power in his veins.
I pressed a hand over my stomach, wincing. “Um… Alpha?”
His head turned slightly. “What is it?”
I hesitated. “um.. I’m hungry.”
He lifted up one of his dark brows. “Hungry?.”
“Yes,” I whispered. “Starving, actually.”
A sound that might’ve been a chuckle escaped him, dry and low. “You nearly died last night, and that’s your first concern?”
I shrugged weakly. “If I’m going to die again, I’d rather not do it on an empty stomach.”
Something softened in his eyes. He exhaled and turned toward the door. “I’ll have something brought up…”
The door slammed open. A guard stumbled in, breathless. “My lord! The King demands your presence. Now.”
Kaelen didn’t move. “He’ll wait.”
The guard swallowed. “He says to bring… the girl.”
Kaelen was silent.
I froze. His aura shifted, the air thickened, colder, heavier. When he spoke, his voice was all high with Alpha’s command. “She doesn’t leave this house.”
“My lord, he…”
“Get out.”
The guard flinched and fled, slamming the door behind him.
I bit my lip. “He really does want me dead, doesn’t he?”
Kaelen turned away from the window. “The King values order. You are… chaos.”
“Chaos that didn’t die,” I said softly.
He looked at me for a long moment, too long. “You shouldn’t have survived that mark,” he murmured, more to himself. “None of them ever did.”
I frowned. “None of who?”
He didn’t answer. His jaw flexed, the muscle ticking as if he regretted saying too much. “Eat first,” he muttered. “Then we’ll talk.”
But before he could move, a sudden crash echoed from the corridor… metal clanging against marble, shouts, the sound of breaking glass.
Kaelen’s head snapped toward the noise. “Stay here.”
“Wait!” I reached for him, but he was already gone, the door swinging shut behind him.
For half a heartbeat I hesitated. Then my hunger twisted into dread. I followed.
The hallway outside was chaotic. Two of Kaelen’s house guards were already down, blood streaking the stone. The air stank of fear and steel.
Kaelen stood halfway down the corridor, sword drawn, his eyes blazing blue. “Who sent you?” he demanded, his voice like thunder.
One lunged, Kaelen sidestepped and slammed his blade through the man’s chest, ripping it free with one brutal twist. Another swung from behind, Kaelen caught the blade with his forearm, shoved the attacker back, and drove a knee into his ribs hard enough to crack bone.
I froze in the doorway, my heart hammering.
“Elara, go back!” he barked without looking.
But I couldn’t. One of the soldiers turned toward me, his eyes wild. He charged.
Kaelen moved faster than thought, catching the man mid-stride. His claws flashed, one clean swipe, and the soldier fell.
He turned to me, furious. “I said stay…”
Before he could finish, a voice boomed from the end of the hall.
“Enough!”
The King’s presence filled the corridor like smoke. Gold and crimson robes trailed behind him, his crown gleaming. The remaining soldiers immediately fell to one knee.
Kaelen didn’t.
“Father,” he said, his sword still in his hand, “your men entered my home uninvited.”
The King’s gaze slid to the dead guards at Kaelen’s feet. “And you butchered them in return. You continue to shame this throne.”
“They came for her,” Kaelen growled. “On your orders.”
The King’s eyes flicked to me, cold, sharp, unreadable. “That girl carries the curse of death. You saw what happened to the others. Do you intend to doom us all?”
Kaelen’s grip on his sword tightened. “You would rather kill a miracle than understand it?”
“A miracle?” the King hissed. “No, boy. A threat.” He stepped closer, and I felt the weight of his power pressing down like a storm. “Release her to the temple. Let the priests end it before it spreads.”
I shook my head, backing away. “I didn’t ask for any of this.”
The King’s eyes narrowed. “And yet, you survive where no one else could. Curious.”
Something in his tone made Kaelen’s jaw tighten. For a heartbeat, suspicion flickered in his gaze, not certainty, just the beginning of doubt.
“Why now?” he asked quietly. “Why demand her death the moment the mark succeeded?”
The King’s expression didn’t change. “Because the Moon is cruel, and I’ve buried enough daughters of this realm because of your failures.”
The insult landed heavy between them.
Kaelen’s voice dropped to a growl. “Watch your words.”
“Or what?” the King sneered. “Will you strike your own blood for a slave?”
Kaelen took a step forward. “If you touch her, yes.”
Power clashed between them, invisible but real enough to make the torches flicker and the air hum. My vision swam; the mark on my wrist began to throb.
“Kaelen,” I whispered, “something’s wrong…”
Light flared from my skin, bright and blinding. I screamed as the bond seared through me, a torrent of heat and power I couldn’t contain. Kaelen caught me before I fell, his arm wrapping around my waist.
“Elara!” His voice cracked through the noise.
The King stepped back, his eyes wide. “The curse awakens.”
“I’m not cursed!” I gasped, but the light only grew stronger, pulsing in rhythm with my heartbeat. Images flashed behind my eyes, moonlight, blood, chains breaking, a silver crown tumbling into darkness.
Then everything went silent.
The last thing I heard was Kaelen’s voice, low and furious, as he lifted me into his arms.
“Touch her again,” he told the King, “and I’ll burn your throne to ash.”
And then, my eyes snapped close, I forgot where I was.
- Writer
