Chapter 10: Whispers in the Blood-Soaked Wind

  The forest was silent.

  Not the usual kind of quiet that came with dusk, but a heavy, suffocating silence. The kind that settled over places where something terrible had happened—where blood still soaked the roots and the cries of the dying had not yet faded from memory. The wind moved gently through the leaves, but even the birds had fled.

  Lucian stood at the edge of the clearing where the Holy Knights had fallen. Selene stood beside him, her crimson eyes glowing faintly under the hood he’d given her. Her once-royal features were calm but distant, as though she'd shed her past like a tattered cloak. In truth, she had. The queen’s daughter was gone.

  All that remained was Selene, First of the Shadeborne Court.

  She had moved like a predator in the battle—silent, fast, brutal. The knights hadn’t stood a chance. Her chains, woven of living shadow, danced through their formation like liquid death. Lucian hadn’t even needed to lift a finger, though he did, for the joy of it.

  Two knights had survived. One had lost an arm and fled, the other had both legs crushed by a summoned serpent tail. Lucian let them crawl back to the Kingdom of Velmora. He wanted them to speak. To whisper what they had seen. To infect the capital with dread.

  That was the plan.

  “You did well,” Lucian said, his voice low as he turned to Selene.

  She didn’t respond right away. Her gaze was locked on the twisted body of a knight who’d tried to beg for his life. She'd slit his throat anyway.

  “Thank you, my lord,” she said at last, but her tone was hollow.

  Lucian raised an eyebrow. “Something on your mind?”

  She hesitated, then turned to him. “Why didn’t you kill the survivors?”

  Stolen novel; please report.

  Lucian smiled. “Because fear is more powerful than death. The Kingdom needs to know that Shadebourne is not a rumor. And when they tremble in their beds, they’ll realize I am the coming storm.”

  Selene nodded, absorbing the lesson. Lucian was pleased.

  Back at the cabin, the Scotch family had grown wary. Selene’s presence—her unnatural grace, her watchful silence—had begun to unsettle them. Eira, especially, had grown suspicious. She had asked once who Selene was, and Lucian lied smoothly. Said she was a lost traveler he’d found in the woods, being chased by bandits.

  “Such beauty,” Mrs. Scotch had whispered that night. “But such strange eyes…”

  Lucian had smiled in the shadows.

  Selene never spoke to the Scotch family unless instructed. Her loyalty was absolute, but her hatred simmered. She remembered her mother’s betrayal. The lies. The moment her own mother had traded her away for power, claiming she’d been kidnapped.

  It had broken something in her.

  Now, she had a new mother: the darkness. And a new father: Shadebourne himself.

  That night, as Lucian returned to the hidden base deep in the Blightroot Hollow—the corrupted part of the forest now home to his growing army—he was greeted by his lieutenant, the serpent Azzarok. The beast slithered from the darkness, its massive, armored body covered in glowing runes. The ground shook with every movement.

  “My king,” Azzarok hissed, bowing his head. “The scouts you sent to the eastern ridge have returned. There are new enemies... a church battalion, not knights. Priests. Exorcists.”

  Lucian’s eyes narrowed. “They sent faith against me?”

  Azzarok bared his fangs. “They speak of purification and flames. They chant the name of the Light-Father.”

  Lucian chuckled. “Let them come. I’ll show them how dark faith can truly become.”

  He turned to Selene, who had just arrived, her shadow-wrapped chains slithering across the stone floor.

  “Come,” he said. “You’ll lead the next operation. Let the kingdom see the Queen’s daughter baptize their priests in shadow and fire.”

  Selene bowed, and for the first time since her enslavement, she smiled.

  That same night, far to the south, in Velmora’s capital, the two maimed knights reached the outer gates. One dragged his broken body across the ground, whispering, “Shadebourne… Selene… she’s with him…”

  The guards rushed forward, lifting the bloodied men and carrying them into the city. The palace doors were thrown open. Queen Lyra rose from her throne in feigned horror when she heard the reports. But deep inside, she trembled—not out of fear for her daughter, but because her lies had been exposed.

  “Prepare the church,” she said to her advisors. “Summon the Order of White Flame. The Shadow returns…”

  But it was too late.

  Lucian’s shadow had already seeped into the soil, the skies, the minds of men.

  And in Blightroot Hollow, a dark army grew under his command.