Her bloodline
1002 Words
Anara.
I didn’t sleep.
Not really.
When I finally threw myself onto the bed last night, the tears just… didn’t stop. My chest hurt from how much I cried, my throat raw from trying to keep quiet so no one heard me.
By the time morning came, my head was pounding and my eyes felt like someone had set them on fire.
Eira came in, as always, quiet and efficient, carrying a gown the color of wine and a small box of jewelry.
She set them down, then finally looked at me — really looked — and her steps faltered.
“My lady,” she murmured, her gaze softening. “your face…”
I turned toward the mirror, and there it was.
My reflection betrayed me — red-rimmed eyes, puffy cheeks, even the corners of my mouth turned down as if they’d forgotten how to do anything else.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I said flatly, cutting her off before she could ask. I felt bad a bit, but talking about it Will only make it hurt more.
She hesitated, but only for a second. Then she nodded, her tone businesslike again. “Very well. I’ll cover it up.” atleast she got the message.
I sat still as she dabbed on powder and whatever else she kept in her little black box. By the time she was finished, most of it was hidden — but I could still see it.
*******
I stared at myself in the mirror, I caught a figure and turned, it was Darius.
He gave me a look that asked if he could come in and I nodded.
I was still sitting at the vanity, staring at the faint, tired version of myself in the mirror.
his voice came low and sharp.
“What the hell happened to you?”
He stopped behind me, his hands braced on the back of my chair as he stared at my reflection. His eyes scanned every inch of my face — the faint puffiness under my eyes, the strain in my smile.
“Anara,” he pressed, softer now but no less serious. “Talk to me. Who hurt you?”
I shook my head quickly, whispering, “No one. I just—”
He straightened slowly, letting out a quiet breath through his nose. Then his tone shifted, lightening as if to cut the tension choking the room.
“…Damn, even with all that… still the cutest pair of swollen doe eyes I’ve ever seen.”
That startled a laugh out of me — a real laugh, though it came with a sniffle.
“There we go,” he said, grinning faintly. “Better already. Don’t cry, sweetheart. You’re prettier when you’re not a mess.”
I rolled my eyes at him, but my lips curved despite myself.
He studied me for another moment, and then with surprising gentleness, he asked, “…Lucien?”
I hesitated… then gave him a small nod.
His smirk faded. He crouched slightly to meet my gaze. “thought so. You don’t have to say more if you don’t want to.”
I nodded again, then murmured, “…I feel so stupid.”
That made him laugh again, sharp and warm. He shook his head. “Oh no. Don’t say that, I’ll have no choice but to agree.”
I let out a small laugh through my tears.
But then he grew serious, his voice quiet. “You’re not stupid, Anara. Lucien… he doesn’t know how to keep what matters. Doesn’t mean it doesn’t matter to him. Just means he’s… broken in ways that make him bad at holding on.”
I stared at him, feeling my chest tighten at his words.
And then — in typical Darius fashion — he straightened and grinned wickedly.
“Now. Enough of this sad little pity party. Let’s talk about something that’ll actually cheer you up. Like… your bloodline. Interested?”
My breath caught. “…You know?”
He winked. “Sweetheart, I know everything.”
I sat there quietly, staring at my hands, until Darius finally spoke.
"You have no idea how powerful you really are, Anara."
I lifted my head, startled by the firmness in his voice. His green eyes were fixed on me, more serious than I'd ever seen them.
"Your bloodline isn’t just rare — it’s feared. Nyxborn. Ashveil. Morwyn."
He said the names like they carried weight, like they weren’t just names but curses and crowns all at once.
"Nyxborn means you were born of the Night herself. You’re tied to the oldest shadows, and they answer to you. They don’t just protect you — you can command them to destroy anything, anyone. Ashveil runs through you too — blood that survives ruin. It means you don’t break. Even if the whole world burns around you, you endure. And Morwyn… she was the witch who first woke the darkness and shaped it to her will. You’re her bane — her heir and her undoing."
My breath caught at the quiet intensity in his words.
"Do you know how many factions would kill to have you on their side? Or to end you before you realize what you can do? That’s why they all want you — not just because you woke Lucien, but because you’re a weapon no one can match."
I swallowed hard, my stomach twisting. “Then… then I need to learn. To control it.”
Darius’s lips quirked in the faintest grin, though his gaze stayed sharp. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked at me.
"Damn right you do. And when you do? There won’t be a soul on this earth who can touch you. So don’t let anyone — not Lucien, not me, no one — make you feel small. You’re more than you think."
The words sank into me, heavy but steadying, and for the first time in what felt like days, i almost believed them.
- Writer
