Chapter 5: The Crown and the Cut
1371 Words
The moment the sunless sky above the realm dimmed further into silvery twilight, the palace roared into motion. Servants moved like whispers. Gowns of ancient silk were pressed and jewels polished under lanterns carved from obsidian. Elaris, calm yet firm, stood before me as the other maids fluttered around like nervous butterflies.
"Today, you will be crowned as Queen of the Undying Court," she said, her pale fingers smoothing the flowing crimson velvet of my ceremonial robe. “Only after that will we start your flying lessons.”
My excitement over that faded instantly.
“Flying…” I whispered. “It’s still so strange. I can’t believe I might actually float.”
Elaris smiled faintly. “You won’t float, Your Grace. You’ll rule the sky.”
Those words warmed something in me. It wasn’t accepted… not yet. But a piece of me, tired and aching, wanted to belong somewhere. And that sliver of wanting… that was dangerous.
We traveled to the ceremonial grounds just past the palace’s great obsidian hall. The world shimmered under its eternal moon, casting shadows that glowed, paradoxically, instead of darkening. Every inch of the kingdom’s capital was lined with bowed heads, robed nobles, and the eerie silence of respect.
He stood at the top of the black marble stairs my king. His silver hair glistened, and though he wore no crown, every soul there knew he ruled them all.
When I reached his side, he did not take my hand. But he looked at me, and the cold shimmer in his eyes was gone replaced with something still and curious. Like he was waiting to see what I’d become.
The ceremony was short, but heavy. As the crown was placed on my head an intricate circlet of red diamonds and bone carved from something ancient the crowd of nobles and wives bowed.
All of them.
Even the queens.
Except him.
He never bowed.
He didn’t need to.
After that, it was endless conversation. Every noble in the realm wanted to gaze at me, study me, judge me. No one was rude. No one was honest either. Every smile was a mask.
Elaris was there, but far off. She was not permitted to be by my side during the reception. It made me feel more alone than ever.
Until I met the wives.
They circled me like silk-clad wolves. Ten of them. All beautiful. All deadly. Their tones were as sweet as poisoned wine.
“Our king visited you last night?” one asked, her voice thick with something I couldn’t name.
“Of course he did,” another purred. “He always enjoys his new brides.”
A few giggled.
“Though clearly not enough,” someone added, eyes raking my skin. “She’s still not pale enough. Looks like he didn’t take much.”
I stood silent, heart tightening.
“Maybe he didn’t enjoy it. Are you… a virgin?” another asked, voice innocent but sharp.
They all laughed.
I felt the burn rise behind my eyes. I wasn’t going to cry. Not here.
I turned and walked away, quickly, toward him. I found him mid-conversation, but when he looked into my eyes, he knew.
“I’m not feeling well,” I said softly. “I want to return.”
“I’ll take you.”
“No,” I replied with a curt nod. “Elaris will take me.”
And as I turned, I saw him. My love the only light I had known in this world. The only werewolf who followed me here.
He looked at me like he had been searching.
“I’ve been trying to find you,” he whispered as I passed him. “Are you okay?”
“I’ll find you later,” I replied, rushing off before I could change my mind.
Back in my chambers, the maids awaited me, but I dismissed them all. I stood in front of the mirror, furious, determined.
“Elaris,” I called.
She entered, concern etched in her features.
“I want white powder. Make my skin pale.”
“My queen ”
“It’s not a request.”
She obeyed, though her frown never left. With gentle hands, she dusted my glowing bronze skin until I looked more like them. Pale. Hollow.
Dead.
Then I wore the dress transparent, gossamer-thin. If they wanted a queen like them, I’d be the mirror they feared.
I left without a word, walked through the silent halls of the palace, or should I say hover, and stood before his chambers. My fingers pressed the ruby on the ring he gave me. The doors opened by themselves.
He appeared instantly.
I stepped in, held his wrist, and pulled him inside.
He stared at me, stunned. The sheer defiance in my eyes. My skin, ghostly. My breath, quick.
I kissed him.
He shut the doors with a wave of his hand.
We kissed again, deep and full of fire. But when he pulled back, his brows raised.
“What did you do to your skin?”
I looked away. “Don’t you like pale skin?”
He laughed really. It was the first time I heard it. Rich, amused, too real.
“Who told you that?”
“Your wives.”
He laughed even more, dragging me gently toward his massive stone bath carved into the floor.
“I like your skin the way it is, warm, glowing, alive.” He bent, peeled off my robe, and pushed me gently into the warm water.
My hair floated around me. My bare skin shimmered.
He dipped a cloth and gently wiped away the powder. Every pass over my skin was like a cleansing spell.
“They’re jealous,” he whispered, eyes dark with something more dangerous than lust.
I trembled.
He bent to kiss me.
But I stopped him.
“Did you visit one of them last night?”
He pulled back, the softness fading.
“was i not with my queen last night?,” he said without hesitation.
I wasn’t sure if I believed him.
I rose, water gliding over my bare skin, clinging to me like silk. I stepped forward, pressed my hand to his chest, and kissed him again.
I grabbed him and pulled him into the bath but he didn’t fall. He was too strong. He lifted me, dripping and naked, out of the water and carried me toward his bed.
He laid me down gently. My skin was wet, my heart was raw.
He hovered over me, eyes filled with something fierce and unshakable.
“Are you sure?” he asked, voice low, almost reverent.
I nodded.
“I want this,” I whispered. “I want to be yours.”
His shirt fell away. And then, nothing else mattered.
We kissed again this time slower. Not rushed. Not hungry.
Worshipful.
His hands explored every inch of me like I was sacred. Every touch built a fire I couldn’t control. He kissed my neck, my shoulder, my thighs, and when our bodies finally came together it wasn’t just physical.
It was a claim.
A bond sealed in breath and moans and tangled limbs.
He moved with precision, patience, and power. Like he knew my body better than I did. And I let go utterly. Completely.
I forgot about the queens. I forgot about the pain. I forgot about the fear.
I remembered what it felt like to be wanted.
When we collapsed against each other, breathless and shaking, he pulled me into his chest. His hands still traced me softly.
Then he gasped.
“What is it?” I asked, dazed.
Look at your hand, I looked, the mark. It wasn't fresh, it was pale like an old scar, it amazed me, I touched it.
“What does that mean?” I whispered.
He cupped my cheek and kissed me again.
“It means we’re one now,” he said softly. “In body, in blood. In bond.”
A pulse stirred beneath my skin. Something ancient. A magic far older than either of us.
“You belong to me,” he whispered. “And I… to you.”
And for the first time since I entered this realm…
I believed him.
- Writer
