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Enchanting The Cruel Prince

A lowly slave finds herself at odds with the merciless crown prince, their fates dangerously entwined, and meant to separate only with her inevitable death by his hand. Sold to a brothel as a child, she wore the mask of insanity to escape the brutal clutches of life that awaited her, but it only brought her to another hell. She persisted, hoping to one day find her freedom and return to the ethereal valleys where she was born. All Alyssane desired was to find her home. One night of mystery and murder thrusts her into a dangerous game-shards of her memories are missing, she is accused of a fatal crime she could not escape, and her path entangles her with the cruel prince. She knows how things would end. But deceiving fates could be impossible when the man supposed to end her life is both her captive and her savior, when he is cold and menacing yet so easily mesmerizes her with his sweet nothings. His sins are known far wide and are darker than any nightmares plaguing her mind. She knows their fates together would entangle in a brutal mess, though it doesn’t stop her heart from fluttering like a caged bird whenever he is near. And he’s always near. Stirring a heat inside no forbidden thing ever should. In a world where love is a treacherous game, and vicious schemes are whispered behind every shadow, Alyssane must use every ounce of her charm and cunning to survive, even if it means enchanting the cruel prince out for her blood. ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ The crown prince's fingers trailed down her back, a slow, deliberate path that sent a shiver, half fear half something she did not dare name, through Alyssane. His gaze held hers, intense and unwavering. “What are you hiding?” He murmured, his breath hot against her skin as she defiantly met his eyes, “Maybe I don’t you to find out.” A sly smile curled over his lips and he leaned in, his warmth flooded her heart with mixed emotions, in contrast to the coldness of his eyes with a thinly veiled threat, “Are you sure?” "What do you want from me?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. His eyes locked onto hers, filled with a dark promise. “Everything.”

Alancaster · Fantaisie
Pas assez d’évaluations
52 Chs

Into The Wilderness

She fell on the other side of the wall.

Overgrown wild bushes cushioned the fall, but her feet got tangled in thick vines. Alyssane frantically tried to free herself as her fingers started to go cold from the fear.we

'Would they have found out about my escape? Was he already on his way to capture me?'

Once free from the vines, she scrambled onto her feet, rushing deeper into the woods. Ancient trees loomed in the darkness, sharp stones pierced her bare feet, and her 

'I have to think of a way out…'

She was not entirely sure if she could simply run away anymore.

The forest blurred past as Alyssane raced through its twisting paths, her breaths ragged―desperate to go as far as possible. But her steps soon faltered when she found herself on the shore of a river.

Its waves gently touched feet.

And each caress echoed back to the sounds from her forgotten dream.

"No… not now!" she whispered, cursing her mind as it dipped back into the hazy glimpses appearing to her like fractured fragments.

She could not control them.

Through the darkness, she saw a man half covered in shadows, draped in dark regal robes―brooding, staring her down with emotionless eyes. Yet, there was an enchanting sort of air about him.

Reminiscent of the villains carved out from tragic fairy tales. He made no effort to hide his cruelness, and yet so easily he allured her towards him like a moth fluttering into flames.

Alyssane took hesitant steps back, hastily trying to recall the paths of the forest, she tried to shake off the dream. There had to be some other way… but the voices won't stop.

She could hear words from another time that made no sense. The fragments of the nightmare crashed down on her like pieces of memories not hers.

Her life was never the same since they met that night in the forest. He kept her close, sewing threads through her limbs, controlling her in whatever way he pleased.

'I misunderstood his obsession for something else.'

But all he wanted was power.

An icy feeling suddenly sank her heart as faint footsteps stopped behind her. The knight emerged from the shadows, dark and menacing. Just like that, the overwhelming visions of her dreams dimmed.

She was on her knees when they last met, begging, crying. He left with a twisted smile, and her desperate cries pierced the crimson night as she watched him fade. There was no end to her tears as the sword came crashing down.

And then the vision was abruptly cut short.

Before Alyssane could even try to collect her thoughts, the knight's blade sliced the air, halting barely a breath away from her neck. She froze, curling her trembling fists.

All the voices shrunk back into silence.

"Enough." He said coldly.

She would not have run even if she wanted.

There was something about the knight, half bathed in shadows, that made her unable to move, and so easily stirred a nervous tension in her heart.

'What are you?' She thought to herself.

He raised her chin with the tip of his sword, his eyes gleamed with a chilling intensity as he asked, "Who are you?"

Alyssane slowly blinked, forcing her mind to anchor to the present, and her feet to not waver from the weight of her fears.

She had to wear the mask.

"I... I don't remember," Alyssane said, voice hollow yet innocent, "Everything's been so confusing lately."

The knight's gaze narrowed, and he warned, "Don't play games with me."

Alyssane said nothing, she observed him with an oblivious innocence, even though she was barely standing still, even though her breaths have frozen the moment their eyes met. 

He had eyes with the most unreal, the deepest shade of blue.

'It is him,' a voice seemed to whisper, 'But why does this feel different...?'

Everything about him seemed to mirror the man from her dreams, someone who spoke of danger and darker things. The difference was too small, his armor.

But it bothered her too much.

Kazmun's expressions darkened, but Alyssane could see the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. It was as if he found amusement in her audacious silence.

He lowered his sword, "The Lord Chancellor of the Royal Court was murdered."

Her throat turned dry.

'What?'

Even if Alyssane somehow managed to escape now, the palace would have her hunted throughout the kingdom. The escape would make her seem more guilty, and her fears perhaps would cause the same.

Alyssane held his gaze and said nothing.

"It was a woman with blonde hair and silver eyes," The knight walked closer, and she subconsciously stepped back, her feet submerged in the cold water.

"Would you say it's not you?" he asked, the low calm voice a velvety deception.

She shook her head, "I won't."

The knight was tall with an overwhelming sort of air about him. He smiled with no humor in his darkly intimidating gaze and stared her down, and for a moment Alyssane wished she could drown herself in the waters.

'Stop looking at me!'

But Alyssane's gaze remained unwavering, she held onto her mask, her innocence seemingly genuine with an edge of eerie detachment.

"How foolish of you to think you can escape," Kazmun scoffed as if to mock her efforts.

The waves of the river hissed impatiently, as did the leaves faltering weak against the rising winds of the storm. 

She softly replied, "I was not trying to."

He raised a questioning brow, hardly believing her words.

Alyssane sadly lowered her eyes, "My cat went somewhere. She never leaves my side. But I have not seen her for days now."

The knight slightly tilted his head, "Your cat?"

"She will die if she has come here," Alyssane continued, glancing at the shadows of the forest.

Creatures far more dangerous than one could imagine dwelled in the deeper parts of the forest.

"I have to find her…" She added with a distant voice, curling her hand so firmly it was on the verge of trembling. The knight did not notice when blood welled from her wounds and stained the dress.

He only stared at her in silence, a moment passed by, and then he let go of whatever words he was about to say.

"We are going back," he coldly declared.

Alyssane looked at him with a grieving gaze, "Will we come here later?"

"Sure."

"There is something on your shoulders." 

He ignored her.

After all, he could not feel it. No one could.

The snake had ghostly translucent skin and white eyes, it slithered closer to his neck, wrapping itself around… but she knew how it would end. The gamble was already made.

"Don't move," she whispered in alarm.

Just as the snake raised its head, baring the silver fangs, she grabbed it. The knight stiffened, she let out a soft gasp of pain as the snake sank its fangs in her skin.

Her vision blurred.

Her strength was rapidly draining as the venom coursed through her veins she collapsed to her knees, gasping for breath. 

The world around her seemed to dim, all sounds muffled and distant.

But she faintly felt the knight's arms firmly surrounding her, holding her close to him as he said something she could not hear.

Her vision flickered in and out of a dark haze.

She barely felt it when in a swift, almost violent motion, he leaned closer, his lips drawing the tainted blood.

Suddenly, her heart erratically pounded in her chest. A tremor of fear ran through her as she wondered, 'What if I told you the truth now?'

A hollow, feeble laugh escaped her lips. Alyssane gently leaned against him, her voice a dying whisper, before she fell out of consciousness.

"You're really kind…"

There was a wave of unsettling darkness in his eyes as he stared at her, his lips hard against her skin and her thoughts were in a whirl of disarray before everything fell silent.

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