chapter 6: The Blood Between Races
1246 Words
The royal dining hall of Velashara had always felt warm to Nyelani.
Tonight, it felt like a stage.
Gold lanterns burned softly against polished obsidian pillars carved with ancient witch sigils. Long tables shimmered beneath embroidered runners of deep indigo and silver thread. Crystal goblets reflected candlelight like trapped stars.
Yet none of it could calm the restless thrum beneath her skin.
Nyelani entered deliberately — chin lifted, expression composed. She had avoided dinner for three nights. Three nights of excuses. Three nights of hiding in gardens and libraries and corridors that smelled like jasmine and rain.
Tonight, she had come prepared.
She would speak to her mother.
She would end this.
But the moment she sat, she realized something was wrong.
His chair was empty.
Azreathiel’s place — directly across from her — remained untouched. No goblet. No plate. No shadow of broad shoulders and dark intensity.
Her eyes lifted involuntarily.
Left...
Right....
Towards the doorway.
Towards the windows.
Towards the corridor.
Then again.
And again.
He wasn't there.
She told herself she was only being observant.
Not searching.
*He could have left,* her thoughts whispered.
*Perhaps he grew tired of waiting.*
Did he decide the three days were foolish?
Her fingers tightened around her goblet.
Why did that possibility feel… sharp?
She picked up her fork.
Set it down.
Tried again.
Her eyes betrayed her again.
Her mother watched in silence for full minute before finally speaking.
“Are you looking for something, my daughter?”
The Queen Mother’s voice was smooth as velvet and just as deliberate.
Nyelani blinked, quickly lowering her gaze to her plate.
“No, Mother. I was only wondering… if Prince Azreathiel has departed. His absence seemed…” She paused, steadying herself. “Notable.”
Her tune was carefully neutral.
Her finger's were not.
The Queen’s eyes gleamed knowingly.
Before she could respond—
“I would never depart without bidding farewell to such captivating company.”
The voice entered before the man did.
Azreathiel stepped into the hall, tall and composed, dressed in deep ceremonial black embroidered with silver flamework — the royal crest of Zamareth stitched boldly across his chest. No amour tonight. No war. Only a prince.
He walked in unhurried, confident.
His presence shifted the air.
Nyelani hated that it did.
He bowed slightly to the Queen Mother.
“My apologies for my delay. I was unaware Her Highness would miss me so terribly.”
A dangerous smile curved his mouth.
Jabari who had followed behind him coughed to hide a smile.
Heat rushed to Nyelani’s cheeks.
“I was not—” She straightened sharply. “If you intend to keep your future wife waiting at tables unattended, perhaps she should reconsider such a future.”
The hall stilled.
Azreathiel did not retreat.
Instead, he stepped closer.
"A fair accusation" he replied taking his seat.
“Then allow me to vow this now,” he replied softly, “should you become my wife, I will never be late for dinner again. I will be wherever you need me. Whenever you call”
His voice softened on the last words.
The Queen Mother laughed — rich and unrestrained.
“Young royals.... I see I am no longer needed here.”
As if summoned by fate, a maiden approached, whispering into the Queen’s ear.
The Queen rose gracefully.
“The council of witches awaits me. Try not to burn the palace down in my absence.”
The queen rose. Her eyes lingered on her daughter... Then on the prince...
"Enjoy your meal" she said smoothly.
And just like that — they were alone.
The silence between them thickened.
Dinner passed in careful exchanges. Teasing. Testing. Words dancing dangerously close to confession.
Nyelani tried to focus on her plan—to convince her mother to end this marriage.
Instead, she found herself memorising the way candlelight rested on his cheekbones.
The way his finger's tapped lightly against the table when he was thinking. The way his eyes darkened when she spoke.
And she hated herself for it.
But beneath the table — beneath the candles — something deeper stirred.
When Nyelani finally rose, her mind was no clearer.
Her heart, however, was far louder.
---
The throne room at night felt different from the day.
The stained-glass ceilings no longer glowed with sunlight but shimmered faintly under moonlight, casting fractured colors across the marble floor. The air carried incense — sharp, protective.
Her mother stood at the foot of the twin thrones.
Waiting.
“You sought me,” the Queen said quietly.
Nyelani approached, her composure cracking at last.
“I do not wish to marry yet,” she admitted. “And I do not understand why I feel… drawn to him. It is unnatural. It unsettles me. Something about him feels...dangerous. Familiar. Like a dream I cannot remember”
The Queen’s gaze sharpened.
“It unsettles you because it is not natural.”
The words landed heavily.
Nyelani’s pulse quickened.
"My child", she said gently. "You must listen carefully".
Nyelani's breath stilled.
“You are not an ordinary witch, Nyelani.”
"I know—"
"No", her mother interrupted softly.
"You do not".
Her voice deepened with ancient gravity.
The torches flickered.
“You carry the prophecy in your blood. Power older than Velashara itself. Power the covens fear. Power they cannot measure.” she continued "your power cannot be measured by any witch living or dead. That's why your magic was sealed. Not to limit you—but to protect you".
Nyelani swallowed.
“You think they fear me?”
“They fear what they cannot control, And what they cannot control...they destroy.”
Silence fell heavy.
The Queen stepped closer.
“Your dreams are not dreams, are not coincidence.”
The air shifted.
“The man who hunts you through sleep is demon.”
Nyelani’s breath caught.
“There has been enmity between witches and demons since the War Before Names. Blood waes. Betrayals. Extinction attempts. If he binds himself to you — not as husband, but as conqueror — your blood could shield their race from extinction. And can be used to destroy ours”
Silence.
Nyelani felt her knees weaken.
“Prince Azreathiel was chosen by the coven to prevent that,” the Queen continued. “If you marry him, no other can claim you.”
Nyelani’s eyes shimmered with tears.
“And if he already seeks me?” she whispered.
The Queen did not answer immediately.
"Azreathiel is protection", her mother finishes.
Nyelani's heart fractured silently.
Because the only man who had ever looked at her the way fire looks at oxygen....
Was Azreathiel.
And she did not know why.
She feels into her mother's arms, trembling.
“Then we advance the wedding.” she said
The Queen’s eyes widened slightly.
“In two days.”
Emotion trembled through her voice.
“I will protect our people as you have protected me.”
She turned to leave—
—and did not see the shadow shift behind the carved pillars.
Did not hear the faint scrape of a boot against stone.
Did not see crimson flicker briefly in the darkness.
When the chamber fell silent once more—
A low voice whispered from the shadows:
“Too late.”
Far beyond the palace walls— In the darkness of the garden —
Prince Azreathiel stood alone.
His expression unreadable.
Because demon blood does not require proximity to heart a heart break.
- Writer
