I didn't sleep.
Not with the king's presence brushing against my door like a whisper of war.
Not with the monster's voice tangled in my head like poison-laced silk.
And not with the memory that slammed into me the second I closed my eyes.
—
Blood. So much blood.
The scent of burnt offerings. The clang of broken chains.
I stood barefoot on a floor of black marble slick with crimson, a golden throne cracked behind me.
Before me, on his knees, was a god. Not majestic. Not radiant.
He was sobbing.
"For the love you promised me," he choked. "End it."
I looked down, heart cold, voice steady.
"No gods," I whispered, "deserve to beg."
And I struck.
—
My scream tore through the silence as I jolted awake.
Sweat clung to my skin like a second soul. My breath came in ragged gasps, and my pulse was thunder in my ears.
The room was dark.
Except for him.
The king.
He stood in the shadows at the foot of my bed like a carved omen. His hair tousled, his cloak open at the chest, golden eyes locked on me like I was something he'd once lost. And regretted ever finding again.
"You remembered," he said. Not a question.
I nodded, my fingers clutching the sheets like lifelines. "A god… was kneeling."
"And you killed him."
I flinched.
He stepped closer, the air around him thick with stormlight and ancient guilt.
"You weren't just my bride, Vaeleria," he murmured. "You were a godslayer. They called you the Ruinbringer."
I stared at him, the word sinking into my bones like rot.
"Why?" I whispered.
His jaw clenched. "Because you loved something you weren't meant to touch. And when it betrayed you—" he paused, eyes darkening, "—you broke heaven itself."
I rose shakily, trying to make sense of the ache in my chest. "Was he… the one I loved?"
The king looked away.
"You loved many things," he said quietly. "But the god you killed? He tried to take more than your heart. He wanted your soul."
—
I ran.
The palace twisted around me—endless halls of moonlit stone, echoing whispers that weren't mine. The doors seemed to open before me. Drawn to something.
Or someone.
I didn't know where I was going.
Until I did.
The door. That door.
The one I wasn't supposed to open.
It was already ajar.
I stepped inside.
—
The chains glowed faintly now—blood-red runes etched into cold iron. They pulsed with something almost alive.
And in the center, crouched like a demon in prayer, was him.
The monster.
He lifted his head slowly. His golden eyes met mine, and my breath caught.
"You came back," he rasped.
"I remembered something."
His mouth curled—not a smile. Something sharper. More dangerous.
"What did you see?" he asked, voice a velvet noose.
"I killed someone," I whispered. "A god."
He exhaled, as if relieved. "Then it's starting."
"What is?"
His gaze burned straight through me.
"The truth."
—
I should have turned back.
I should have left and never returned.
But I stepped closer.
Because somewhere in the dark, beneath the madness and the chains, something in him knew me. And that terrified me more than anything.
"I didn't just kill him, did I?" I asked.
"No," he said, eyes gleaming. "You devoured him."
Silence stretched.
Then he leaned forward, chains groaning, voice low and reverent.
"And the part of you that enjoyed it?" he whispered. "It's still inside you, little queen. Waiting to wake."
My heart thundered.
Because deep down, I could feel it.
Waiting.
Watching.
Smiling.
To Be Continued...