THE SERPENT PRINCE CURSE

Chapter 6 — The Forgotten Token

​A severed head hit the polished hardwood, rolling with a wet, sickening thud until it tapped against the baseboard.

​Elena’s eyes snapped open.

​Air locked in her throat. Her lungs burned, paralyzed by the sheer terror that flooded her veins. For a agonizing second, the silence in the room was absolute save for the slow, agonizing drip of crimson onto her rug. She pressed a trembling, ice-cold palm against her sternum, feeling the frantic, hammering rhythm of her own heart.

​I’m… not dead?

​The whisper barely escaped her lips, raspy and choked with raw shock.

​Near the doorway, three figures clad in obsidian armor hovered like malevolent shadows. One turned toward her, his face concealed behind a silver mask that reflected her pale, terrified face.

​"Do not involve yourself," the commander sneered, his voice dropping into a harsh, metallic rasp that made her teeth vibrate. "This is royal business. The Queen’s direct decree."

​Before another word could bleed into the stifling air, a massive frame cut through the room, violently interposing itself between her and the shadow guards.

​It was him.

​The mysterious stranger who had pulled her from the dark depths of the sea. His heavy coat was soaked, smelling of salt water and bitter ozone. Blood bubbled through his clothing, dark and thick, leaking from a jagged gash along his side. Every breath he drew was a ragged, whistling struggle, his pale face glistening with cold sweat.

​He had fought through an army to get here. He was broken, bleeding out, standing on the absolute precipice of exhaustion. Yet he stood between Elena and instant death like an unyielding mountain.

​"What if I insist?" he growled, the low rumble of his voice laced with lethal promise despite his trembling knees.

​The commander raised a serrated broadsword, his cold eyes gleaming behind his mask. "Then you will bleed beside her like the disgraced stray you are."

​Four guards lunged simultaneously.

​Kael’s fists clenched, his knuckles turning stark white. Fear didn't touch him, but brutal reality did. In his shattered condition, he couldn't survive a direct clash. His ocean energy was completely drained, his core wounded, every breath piercing his chest like a red-hot blade.

​Still, he did not retreat an inch.

​The blades whistled through the air, aimed directly at his throat.

​Kael slowly closed his eyes, accepting the inevitable, and thrust his hand beneath his torn tunic. His bloody fingers brushed against a small, forgotten piece of cold metal. An ancient token. He ripped it from his chest and thrust it forward.

​The air snapped.

​Weapons froze inches from his skin.

​Clang. Clang. Clang.

​Broadswords slipped from nerveless fingers, shattering the eerie silence as they crashed to the floor. Without a single word of command, all four elite assassins hit the ground hard, their knee joints slamming into the hardwood with bone-rattling force. They bowed so low their iron helmets scraped against the floorboards.

​Elena stared in absolute bewilderment, her chest heaving as she clutched the back of a chair. "What... what is this?"

​Kael looked down at the dark, rune-carved emblem in his palm. He was as baffled as she was. He remembered only a fading memory: his father, gasping for his final breaths on a blood-soaked bed, shoving this metal disk into his hands without a single explanation before dying.

​Kael's eyes hardened, settling on the commander trembling before him. "You."

​The warrior shivered, his armored shoulders shaking uncontrollably. "My lord..."

​"Do you recognize this?" Kael demanded, his tone slicing through the tension.

​"I... I cannot speak its name," the commander rasped, terror lacing his voice.

​"Speak!" Kael roared, a brief, suffocating aura bursting from his broken frame.

​The guard swallowed hard, his forehead pressed against the floorboards. "Those who carry that blood-token are recognized as the supreme line... the true founder's heirs. We were once the personal vanguard of your grandfather. The high protection force."

​Kael's breath hitched. "Go on."

​"We were told the token was destroyed... that Queen Seraphine held the true crown rights," the warrior stammered, weeping with pure disgrace. "We were forced to serve her! We were lied to!"

​Kael stared at the relic, the weight of a stolen legacy crashing over him. His lips curled into a commanding, dangerous sneer. "From this second onward... your loyalty returns to me."

​"Without hesitation, My King," the guards chorused, their voices echoing off the walls.

​"Do not return to the Ocean Kingdom," Kael commanded coldly. "Remain in this mortal realm. Melt into the shadows. Protect me when called. And..." He turned his piercing, intensity-filled gaze to Elena. "Guard her with your lives."

​"It shall be done."

​In a blur of distortion, the shadows swallowed the warriors, leaving the apartment dead silent.

​Elena stood frozen, her eyes darting from the bloody room to the towering man whose body was visibly giving out. Her heart hammered wildly against her ribs. "Who are you?" she asked, her voice trembling with a mixture of awe and fear. "Are you... the one from the harbor?"

​Kael parted his lips to answer, but his vision swirled into darkness. His legs buckled beneath him.

​"Hey!" Elena shrieked, sprinting forward.

​She caught his heavy frame just before he smashed into the floor, the sheer weight of him bringing her down to her knees. Crimson soaked into her shirt immediately.

​"You're bleeding out!" she cried out, her hands frantic against his wet, torn shirt.

​She dragged him toward her bed, her medical instincts kicking into overdrive. Minutes turned into an agonizing blur of alcohol, bandages, and frantic tears. She cleaned the deep, unnatural slashes across his chest, her bare hands trembling every time her warm skin brushed against his freezing, muscular torso.

​"Who are you?" she whispered into the empty night, pressing fresh gauze to his wounds, feeling the terrifyingly fast pulse beneath his collarbone.

​He offered no answer, lost in the dark depths of unconsciousness.

​Morning light broke through the sheer curtains, painting the bedroom in soft golden hues.

​Kael’s thick eyelashes fluttered open. He felt the unbelievable softness of a plush mattress beneath him, a stark contrast to the cold stone and ocean currents he was used to. The air smelled intoxicatingly sweeter here a delicate blend of fresh lilies and the lingering scent of warm, feminine skin.

​He shifted, a sharp grunt escaping him as his side flared with pain.

​"Don't move," a soft voice warned.

​Elena stepped into the room, a tray in her hands. Her dark hair was tied back loosely, a few stray strands framing her porcelain face. Her eyes were rimmed with pink from lack of sleep, but she looked breathlessly gorgeous in the morning sun.

​Kael locked his dark gaze on her. "You saved me."

​"You saved me first," she countered gently, setting a steaming bowl on the nightstand beside him. She leaned down, checking his bandage with practiced ease. Her face was inches from his; he could feel the soft, warm exhale of her breath hitting his chest.

​Kael’s muscles coiled, a strange heat rushing straight to his groin despite his injuries. "You shouldn't touch me so casually."

​Elena halted, looking directly into his intense eyes. A faint blush crept up her neck, but she didn't pull back. "You're in my apartment, bleeding on my sheets. I'll touch you wherever I need to keep you alive."

​A dangerous, sultry spark flickered in Kael’s dark eyes. "Is that a promise?"

​Elena's breath caught, her heart skipping a violent beat. She cleared her throat, pulling back just enough to restore her composure, though her cheeks burned bright red. "Eat your soup. It's ginger. It'll warm your blood."

​Kael looked down at the simple bowl, something cold and long dead inside his chest melting away. He picked up the spoon, taking a small sip. It was warm, sweet, and made with a gentle care he had never experienced in the treacherous courts of his homeland.

​"Thank you, Elena," he murmured softly, his rich voice sending a shiver straight down her spine.

​By dusk, Kael stood near the floor-to-ceiling window, looking down at the buzzing city street below. His abnormal royal physiology had already closed the worst of his flesh wounds, leaving dark, jagged scars across his torso.

​Elena walked up behind him, wrapping a light cardigan around her shoulders. "You heal too fast for a normal man."

​"I guess am a lucky man," Kael said softly, not turning around. He caught her reflection in the glass vulnerable, beautiful, and completely at his mercy. "I need a place to stay. Can I stay here?"

​Elena blinked, her heart fluttering violently. "Here? With me?"

​"yes sure ,i have no where to go ,."

,,"and why did you help me that day ?"

​Kael leaned down, his lips brushing against the sensitive shell of her ear, his hand trailing lightly down her hip, sending an electric surge through her whole body. "Because the moment I saw you... I decided nobody else gets to destroy you but me."

​Elena gasped softly, her lips parting as his scent wrapped around her like a velvet chain. She should have been terrified, but every nerve in her body screamed for him to lean closer.

​"You can stay," she breathed, completely lost in his dark spell.

​Meanwhile, far beneath the crushing pressure of the dark sea, Queen Seraphine sat top of her coral throne.

​A kneeling messenger trembled violently before her. "Your Majesty... the shadow guards... they failed. The prince... he possessed the Founder's Seal."

​"What?" Seraphine’s voice shrieked, terrifyingly sharp.

​A blast of violet dark magic blasted from her outstretched hand, seizing the messenger by the throat and slamming him violently against the marble ceiling.

​"Useless trash!" she roared, her royal face twisting into a demonic contour as she broke the man's neck with a flick of her wrist. His lifeless body hit the floor with a sickening crash. "Find him! Bring me my stepson’s head, or I will feed this entire court to the abyss!"

​In the grand estate of the royal province, Lady Nerissa stared into her gilded mirror, her long golden nails digging into the mahogany vanity until the wood cracked.

​"What do you mean he is staying with a mortal woman?!" Nerissa screamed, throwing a crystal vase against the wall, shattering it into a thousand glittering shards.

​Her maid cowered in the corner. "My Lady... the reports claim Prince Kael is hiding in her apartment... protecting her."

​Nerissa stood up, her jaw clenched, her breathtaking face contorted with insane, bitter jealousy. For years she had offered him her beauty, her high nobility, her pristine body and he had treated her like garbage, ignoring her very existence!

​"A pathetic, dirty mortal worm thinks she can touch what belongs to me?!" Nerissa hissed, her eyes burning with pure, unadulterated venom. She grabbed a silver dagger from her desk, tracing the razor edge against her own lips.

​"If Prince Kael will not love me..." she whispered, a chilling, psychotic smile breaking across her face, "...I will rip that w***e's skin off her body and make him watch."