The dim light of the setting sun cast long shadows across the halls of Verathia's palace, the stone walls taking on a crimson hue as twilight descended. Prince Alistair sat in his chambers, his gaze fixed on the flickering flames of the hearth, though his mind was far from the warmth of the fire. Elara had consumed him—her image, her laughter, her innocence. It was as if her very presence had infected his soul, twisting it into something dark and unrecognizable.
He wasn't just drawn to her anymore; he needed her. The thought of anyone else being near her, hearing her laugh, seeing her smile—it stirred something possessive, something dangerously primal in him. He had to make her his. Not out of love, no, that wasn't what this was. It was something deeper, more consuming. He couldn't describe it, but he knew it was far from pure.
💛 A Heartfelt Note to You… To everyone reading this — Thank you. Truly. In a world full of noise, the fact that 'you' took a moment to pause, read, feel, and connect with my words means more than I can ever express. This journey of writing isn’t just mine — it’s "ours". With every story, every emotion, every chapter I share here, your presence, your support, and your silent encouragement breathe life into it. If my words have touched your heart, made you smile, think, cry, or feel understood — consider supporting me here on Stck.me. Your contribution, no matter how small, helps me keep doing what I love — writing for you. Let’s grow together — one story at a time, one feeling at a time. With all my love and gratitude.✨️
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