As I followed Sebastine through the labyrinthine castle grounds, I couldn’t shake the feeling of unease. The wind howled outside, casting dark shadows on the stone walls. I may not know my way around the castle, but I was certain we weren’t heading to the throne room, the Lycan king’s bedchamber, or even the waiting room, which I recently discovered was situated directly opposite the throne room.
Instead, Sebastine led down a narrow, winding stairway, the air growing thick with the scent of dampness and age. The stairs seed to descend into the very bowels of the castle, lit only by flickering candles that cast ghostly shadows on the walls. I shivered, my heart racing with every creak of the wooden stairs.
I wasn’t afraid of the dark – at least, not until recently. To , the darkness was comforting, a shield that wrapped around like a protective cloak. The shadows couldn’t possibly be as cruel as the ones I saw every day, where the monsters’ faces twisted into false smiles. In the dark, I was shielded from the world’s cruel gaze, free to breathe without the weight of judgnt.
But this darkness was different. It wrapped around like a never-ending, gut-wrenching shroud. Every step revealed a new secret passage, each one littered with spider webs and crawls that clung to the stone like grueso decorations. The silence was suffocating, punctuated only by the soft rustle of our footsteps and the occasional drip of water echoing through the corridors.
I didn’t bother asking Sebastine where we were headed, knowing he was a man of few words. His rugged profile remained impassive, his eyes fixed on the path ahead. Even if I asked, I was certain he’d respond with ’I’m not authorized to discuss that with you’, or ignore altogether. The latter seed more likely, given how much he despised .
As we continued to walk down the staircase, the shadows seed to deepen, and my thoughts started to consu . Was I finally approaching my fate, like the other brides who had co before ? It wasn’t even a full moon cycle yet!
I let out a sigh, the sound echoing through the silence. Sebastine’s gaze flicked toward , his expression inscrutable, before he turned away without a word. I fought the urge to cuss him out.
We finally reached the bottom of the stairway, where a heavy, iron-reinforced door barred our path. Sebastine pulled out a rusty key and unlocked the door with a scraping sound that sent shivers down my spine. The door creaked open, revealing a dimly lit chamber filled with rows of ancient, dusty tombs.
Sebastine gestured for to enter, his eyes gleaming in the faint light. I hesitated, dread washing over . What was this place? Why had he brought here?
As I stepped inside, the door clanged shut behind , surrounding in an oppressive silence. Sebastine’s footsteps echoed through the chamber, growing fainter with each passing mont.
I stood frozen, surrounded by the musty scent of decay. The tombs hovered before , their weathered inscriptions barely readable. I wandered through the rows, tracing the nas and dates inscribed into the stone.
Suddenly, a na caught my eye: "Astrid, Beloved Bride of the Lycan King." My heart skipped a beat. Astrid, the first bride, the one who had disappeared under mysterious circumstances.
A chill ran down my spine as I realized what this place was. This was the resting ground for the Lycan king’s brides, the ones who had failed to fulfill their duties.
I’m pretty much dead, I thought, as Sebastine reappeared, his voice low and emotionless. "Follow ." My heart sank, and I trailed behind him, my legs trembling.
We descended into a dungeon-like structure, its cold, damp walls was disturbingly familiar to the slave market where I’d been held captive. The familiarity sent a shiver down my spine. But it was the sound of groaning pain, growing louder with each step, that truly terrified .
The agonized cries echoed through the corridors, punctuated by the clank of chains and the stench of rotting flesh. My breath caught in my throat as Sebastine led deeper into the depths of suffering.
I snapped my gaze to Sebastine, searching for any hint of explanation in his eyes. But his expression remained impassive, as if carved from stone. For the first ti, I felt a surge of resentnt toward his poker face.
As we walked, the sound of pain grew louder, more intense. I couldn’t help but tremble, my senses overwheld by the sheer magnitude of human suffering surrounding .
Sebastine’s pace remained steady, unfaltering, as if immune to the chaos around us. I struggled to keep up, my feet weighed down by dread, as the Lycan king’s thunderous voice shattered the silence. "Darling..." He drew out the word, his tone oozing sinister intimacy.
My heart skipped a beat. Why the sudden familiarity? I snapped my head up, eting his piercing gaze. A wicked smile crept across his chiseled face, etching deeper creases around his mouth. "I have a surprise for you," he declared, his voice low and nacing.
Before I could curtsy or react, he grasped my shoulder, his fingers digging into my flesh like talons. His grip pulled forward, forcing to stumble after him.
"Co," he growled, his breath hot against my ear, sending tremors down my neck.
As we turned a corner, a grueso sight assaulted my senses. Three battered bodies hung from rusty chains, suspended from the damp, stone ceiling. Their faces were swollen, bruised, and bloodied, yet I recognized them instantly.
My stomach churned as mories resurfaced. Those faces were etched in my mory forever – the sa faces that had sneered at , mocked , and sold to the black market like a commodity.
The rogues, once swaggering around with confidence, now hung limp and broken. Their eyes, once filled with malice, now stared vacantly into the darkness. It was a twisted kind of justice, and it made sick to my stomach.
The Lycan king’s voice cut through my thoughts, his tone dripping with satisfaction. "You’ll never be haunted by these scum again."
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