The Luna's Sinful Lover

The sinking sun was beautiful over the horizon as it melted the sky into a canvas of lilac and crimson. These spreading hues met the lake below and the crimson appeared to be like the blossoms of a rose that filled one with an overwhelming sweetness.

It was like a fire that can not be quenched.

But more like filthy blood.

Like the blood that seeped through her shirt into a blossoming hue.

Aesther's heart was left in a turmoil of fear, and rage, it twisted with bitter emotions that suffocated her. The sword has not sunken deep enough to cause harm, but it brushed a part of her that could never be healed.

Her eyes flickered with a raw fear as she felt the blood rushing through her veins slow down, there was a gnawing emptiness that spread through her soul in a gradual embrace.

She let out a shaky breath as her gaze lifted at the devil in front of her. He looked at her calmly with those devouring eyes that took in all the light but reflected none.

"It ends here." His cold voice sent a shiver down her spine, spurring her terror at what he has done into a venom of deep hatred.

"Why did you stop?" Aesther whispered in a broken voice. A little closer and he could have ended her life.

She hoped he did.

The devil remained stoic, letting out no emotions over his ruthless gaze but a gradual frost took over him as his hard gaze glared down at her. There was a warning, a threatening aura that could make the soul quiver.

Aesther placed her cold fingers over the blade. It was only after she felt the hot blood did she realize how numbingly frozen her body was becoming.

"You've won."

Her voice was barely audible as she moved towards him in one swift motion, she felt him stiffen. The raw pain flared through her in waves of agony. Aesther abruptly stopped, but they were very close now.

Her lips were against his ear as she gasped in a dying voice.

"Ezrahl?"

His name left a bitter taste in her mouth and a revolting hatred brewed within her. If there was even a flicker of power that remained in her, Aesther would have sacrificed everything to bring him to his end.

But it was too late now.

"What have you done?!" He sternly demanded.

Aesther mustered a wary smile as her hold on him weakened. The battlecries and the screams of the warriors were nothing but a faint echo. A numbing pain was crawling across her.

That's when her feet staggered and she fell to her knees. Her lips coughed blood, and her body slightly quivered.

"You are not going anywhere."

Ezrahl's voice was low and deep as he silently knelt beside her, his fingers resting over her wrist. His eyes remained as indifferent as ever and something about that made Aesther's misery worsen.

He glanced at the crimson spreading through her clothes with frightening ease when Aesther averted her eyes.

She hated him but a part of her wished she would at least be worth something to him. Aesther averted her gaze.

"It's too late for you to do anything," she laughed in a broken voice, "You can not conquer everything, Your Majesty." Her smile turned bitter, "You can never conquer me."

There was something tenacious about the scarlet eyes that were staring plainly at Aesther. She was familiar with that gaze as she was familiar with her body.

"Of course not," the softness of his voice made her heart heavy, "You are a wolf."

His words caused her misery to increase manifold.

She was a wolf, the luna of her people, and all her life, Aesther had only lived to keep the sacred oath. She spent everything to become strong enough, to make a name for herself in a world that refused to accept her.

But he ruined everything in his blind pursuit of power, because of his depthless greed that could not be satisfied even after he murdered every person she treasured.

Aesther's vision was a hazy blur, she was losing the sense of herself and her surroundings yet unable to hold back the blinding agony that seized her. But she laughed because she knew it would be over soon, she laughed because the pain was too much to bear.

Her eyes burned with tears she didn't let out.

By this time, it was a labour to draw in breaths and her thoughts became too dizzy to think clearly. Her face was pale and her vision shifted between a hazy blur and the distant memories she should have forgotten.

Aesther took in a trembling breath, unable to notice the quiver of his fingers as Ezrahl took the sword out. She had no strength left to remain in that world anymore. Her life was robbed of its motive.

She was exhausted from breathing.

"I am shackled…" she said as a tear trailed down her eye, "from these―these vivid memories of death and misery…and corpses…"

Their eyes met, and she was silent for a while as she reminisced those fleeting moments of their shared past. Aesther's face turned dark and cold. Her broken voice was a light whisper as she vowed with her last breath.

"If‌ ‌there's‌ ‌a‌ ‌second‌ ‌life,‌ ‌I‌ ‌vow‌ ‌to‌ ‌make‌ ‌your‌ ‌life‌ ‌as‌ ‌miserable‌ ‌as‌ ‌you‌ ‌made‌ ‌mine."‌

The last ray of sun was devoured by the inking night that claimed the skies as the last emperor of the sacred lands watched an old companion die in his arms. His gaze was frighteningly empty.

All these years, Ezrahl had stood over the summit of endless powers. What exactly he had seen? How exactly he had felt?

No one knew.

But as the solemn wind of the evening gushed past him, Ezrahl no longer appeared like an emperor. He was just a man short of time, with unspoken words, and many regrets.

In the end, there was only a whisper.

"Haunt me then."