CHAPTER FIFTEEN
627 Words
15: The Graves Den
Elena woke to the feeling of cold stone beneath her back. Her body ached, her wrists raw from the heavy chains that bound her to an altar carved with strange symbols. The room smelled of damp earth, burning herbs, and something metallic—blood.
Torchlight flickered against the cavern walls, casting long shadows. She swallowed, her throat dry as sandpaper, and tried to steady her breathing. Panic wouldn’t help her now.
Then she saw him.
Marcus stood at the foot of the altar, his arms crossed, watching her with an infuriating smirk. The dim light sharpened the cruel lines of his face, his piercing blue eyes glowing eerily in the dark.
"Awake at last," he said, voice smooth as silk. "I was beginning to think you’d miss the show."
Elena yanked at the chains, but they held firm. "Let me go, you bastard!"
Marcus chuckled, stepping closer. "Oh, but you don’t understand, my dear. You are the main event."
Her blood ran cold.
"You’re insane," she spat.
Marcus tilted his head, considering her. "Perhaps. But I see things others don’t. I know the power hidden inside you, Elena. And I intend to claim it."
He reached out, tracing a finger over the crescent-shaped mark on her collarbone. A searing heat bloomed under his touch, and she bit back a cry. The mark pulsed, glowing faintly.
Marcus’s smile widened. "Beautiful, isn’t it? A symbol of your connection to the moon, to something greater than yourself." He leaned down, voice dropping to a whisper. "But power like this must be controlled. And that’s where I come in."
Elena jerked away, her breaths coming in sharp gasps. "Kieran will come for me," she said. "And when he does, he’ll rip you apart."
Marcus chuckled, completely unfazed. "Oh, I’m counting on it."
She narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean?"
Marcus straightened, clasping his hands behind his back. "The Blood Moon rises soon. And when it does, Kieran will come charging in, desperate to save you. That bond of yours is so predictable." He sighed. "And that’s when I’ll break him."
Elena’s stomach twisted.
Marcus paced in front of the altar, his voice laced with something almost theatrical. "You see, dear Elena, this isn’t just about revenge. It’s about power. Kieran thinks he’s destined to lead, but he doesn’t understand the old ways. The moon chooses its champion, and this time, it chose you."
He turned back to her, a wicked gleam in his eyes. "And once I spill your blood under the Blood Moon, I will take that power for myself."
Elena felt a wave of nausea crash over her.
"You’re out of your mind," she whispered.
Marcus only smiled. "Perhaps. But madness and ambition often go hand in hand."
The torches flared brighter for a moment, as if responding to his words. Shadows danced wildly along the walls, and a low murmur rose from the other side of the cavern.
Elena turned her head, heart hammering.
A group of robed figures stood in a half-circle, their faces hidden beneath deep hoods. Their chanting filled the space, ancient words vibrating in the very air.
This was real. This was happening.
Elena clenched her fists. She wouldn’t let it end like this.
Her mind raced. She had to find a way out, a way to stall until Kieran arrived. But time was slipping away, and the chains held tight.
Marcus turned away, addressing the hooded figures. "Prepare the ritual. The Blood Moon will reach its peak soon."
Elena fought against the rising fear in her chest.
She needed to escape.
She needed to fight.
Even if it meant facing Marcus head-on.
And deep inside, beneath the terror, she felt something stir.
A power waiting to be unleashed.
- Writer
