CHAPTER TWO: THE GATHERING OF SHADOWS
1502 Words
The great hall of Arenviel Theryss, King of the Elves, shimmered under moonlight filtering through crystalline roots entwined with ancient trees. The air trembled with tension...five races and a representative of the damned sat at one round table, each carrying the weight of their realm.
A long silence.
King Arenviel spoke first, voice steady as the forest wind.
“Thank you for answering the summons. This council meets for the first time in five centuries. That alone should tell you how grave this matter is.”
Lucan Bloodmoor, Alpha of the Lycans, leaned forward, eyes amber and dangerous.
“My pack grows restless. Some have begun whispering of conquering mortal kingdoms. They speak of immortality... as if it can be taken. This desire is… not natural.”
Orion Steelhoof, Centaur General, slammed a fist against the table, wood cracking beneath his strength.
“Desire is one thing. Madness is another. My warriors demand glory beyond reason...some even speak of replacing kings.”
Morganna, the witch high priestess, let out a cold laugh.
“You think this is simple lust for power? No. It is corruption. A hunger that starts as a whisper… then claws through the soul.”
The young dragon heir, Kealinth Lorandel, shifted restlessly, scales faintly gleaming under his robe.
“Dragons crave many things, but never what is forbidden. Now even my kin dream of ruling the skies alone. We do not dream...we decide. And this...this is dreaming.”
Matilda Blackwood, half mage, half wizard, spoke softly yet her words cut like steel.
“A priest attempted purification yesterday. It failed. The afflicted were not cursed. They chose their desires. You cannot cleanse free will.”
A low, velvet voice drifted from the shadows.
Every head turned.
Draven Revenor, known as The Crimson Whisper, lounged casually in his seat, eyes like dying embers.
“How amusing. The higher races fear their own people.”
He smirked.
“Desire is the oldest sin… and yet none of you can trace its source?”
Lucan snarled.
“Speak clearly, vampire.”
Draven’s gaze glinted gold.
“Someone is feeding it. Someone powerful.”
He leaned forward, fangs barely visible.
“And only one being would dare corrupt desire itself.”
Morganna’s hand trembled.
“…A Sin.”
Silence slammed into the room like a blade.
The king whispered,
“Which?”
Draven’s lips lifted slowly, dangerously.
“Lust.”
The torches flickered out. Darkness crept closer.
No one spoke.
But everyone thought the same thing.
If Lust is awake… Hell is no longer sleeping.
“How can we trust your words, vampire?” Lucan snarled, claws scratching into the polished elvenwood.
“The last time we relied on your kind, a village drowned in blood. Vampires crave what they cannot have.”
Draven tilted his head, expression composed.
“Isn’t that amusing… coming from a dog?”
The sound was instantaneous.
A savage growl.
A blur of fur and muscle.
Lucan leapt over the table, shifting mid-air, towering in his beast form. Splinters flew as his claws dug deep into the wood. He stared Draven down, fangs bared.
“Lycans are known for their weak temper,”that's all it took for you to become a beast.
Draven murmured..unmoving.
“How dare you speak to a Lord that way, you abomination?” Lucan’s growl rattled the hall, his voice deeper, primal.
“Your pack supports your arrogance, Lucan. That is why you sit at this table today,” Draven replied, unflinching.
He rose slowly, eyes burning gold-red. “I have no pack. Nothing to lose. But you? You all require followers to feel powerful. And that...” his lips curved, cold, “.. is why vampires will always stand above the ego-driven.”
The room surged with heat.
Kealinth, dragon heir, stood abruptly...mist rising from his skin.
Orion’s hoof slammed the marble floor, cracking it clean through.
Magic flickered around Morganna’s fingers.
Matilda sat quietly unfazed.
Air thinned. Pressure built.
Even the candles ceased to flicker...as if afraid.
And therein,Arenviel spoke calmly, yet the roots above shivered.
“This is not why we are here.”
His voice echoed, ancient and controlled.
“I summoned Draven because he understands the dark, not because he is enslaved by it. If there is to be blood tonight...let it not stain the walls of my home.”
Frozen silence.
Then......
Footsteps. Delicate. Measured.
“Did we miss the meeting?” a smooth voice chimed.
Heads turned.
Ivyssa(Envy)glided in, regal yet deceptively restrained, Selene(Lust)beside her like a living storm of forbidden desire.
No one had felt them enter.
“We received no invitation,” Ivyssa said lightly, her gaze resting on the king.
She smiled, flawless yet venom-soft.
“Or did you forget to extend one to Hell?”
She dipped her head in mock courtesy.
“King Arenviel.”
Behind her, Selene said nothing
only smiled slowly, and someone in the room forgot how to breathe.
Lucan instinctively shifted back from his beast form, pulse erratic.
Kealinth inhaled sharply...the dragonfire in his lungs struggling against something colder than flame.
Orion’s fists clenched beneath the table, but his eyes remained firmly averted from Selene.
Morganna lowered her gaze, whispering under her breath,
“She should not be here…”
Matilda took one careful step back, quietly layering a protection spell around herself.
Only Draven smiled--unnoticed.
Ivyssa’s voice flowed like silk dipped in poison.
“We followed the whispers of desire here. Amusing to find it discussed… without us.”
All eyes flicked to Selene.
Her gaze swept through the chamber like silk across bare skin.
Several swallowed hard.
Even the trees outside trembled.
Arenviel stood slowly, voice soft but firm.
“This council is meant for beings of this realm. Not Hell.”
Selene smiled wider.
“But do you not see?” she whispered, her words sliding through the air like smoke.
She stepped forward.
“Hell is already here.”
She paused--eyes locked on the Elven King.
“Which means… Hell is in charge now, King Arenviel.”
Her voice...elegant yet suffocating--rippled through the hall, leaving shivers in its wake.
Instantly, blades were drawn. The King’s guards stepped between him and the Sins.
Lucan let out a guttural growl...halfway shifted again, fur rising along his spine.
“We do not fear Hell!” he snarled, pride rearing higher than reason.
“Leave, creatures born of evil!”
Selene’s lips parted..mockery incarnate.
“How rich… coming from a dog.”
Draven scoffed quietly.
Selene moved forward, each step echoing in time with the heartbeat of the room.
The temperature shifted. Desire, sharp and cold, slithered into hearts like a slow poison.
Her golden eyes fixed on Lucan.
“How about,” she said, voice deepening as the air thickened,
“I show you what a creature born of evil truly is.”
She took one final step.
His pride fractured beneath her gaze.
A power that turns desire into torment.
Selene cannot touch Lucan physically, but she can enter the emotional and sensory center of his mind. She amplifies his deepest, most hidden desire until it becomes unbearable torture--the line between pleasure and pain blurs. It’s invasive, seductive, and crippling.
She doesn’t need to lay a hand on him.
She makes him feel like he’s burning from the inside, convinced that he must have what he suddenly craves--or die suffering.
Desire so intense… it kills you.
very painfully and very slowly.
---
Darkness stirred.
Selene lifted a single finger, though she did not raise her voice.
“You bark loudly, Alpha…”
A soft hum passed through the air, barely audible.
“…do you howl this loud when you’re desperate?”
Lucan stiffened.
His eyes widened...just a little,,before rage returned.
He took a step forward.
And then everything shattered.
His breath hitched sharply. His spine curled as though struck. Hands flew to his chest.
A low, broken sound escaped him.
Not a growl.
Not a roar.
A gasp.
Like a man drowning.
that's right alpha, you have failed everyone, you deserve all this pain
lucan grapped the knife from the table and drove it into his legs.
I deserve.. al..all...this pain. lucan said his voice roboted.
Kealinth stepped forward, alarmed.
“What did you do?”
Selene didn’t look at him. Her eyes remained on Lucan--calm, golden, merciless.
“Lust isn’t always pleasure,” she said softly.
“Sometimes, it’s the unbearable need for something you know you can never have.”
Lucan’s knees buckled. He clutched the table, claws splintering it, eyes bloodshot.
Orion tried to step in--
“Enough, she’ll kill him”
“No,” Selene interrupted gently.
“I haven’t touched him.”
Lucan collapsed to one knee, panting, sweat beading his brow despite his animal strength.
“I simply let him feel his strongest desire…”
Her smile grew.
“…and then took away the possibility of ever fulfilling it.”
He howled,,,soft, strained, broken.
“Euphoric agony,” Draven whispered, almost impressed.
“Her most merciful power.”
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