Zaira 
My head pounded, a dull throbbing that made it hard to focus. I blinked a few times, trying to shake off the dizziness as my vision adjusted to the dim, flickering light overhead. A single bulb swayed slightly, casting long, eerie shadows against the cemented walls. The discoloration in some areas looked like mold—dark, sickly patches creeping across the damp surface.
I shifted, and that’s when I felt it—rough, coarse rope biting into my wrists. I was tied. My pulse spiked as I struggled against the restraints, but they wouldn’t budge. My breathing turned shallow.
The air was thick with a musty, metallic scent. I looked down at the mattress beneath me—stained, discolored, the fabric thin and brittle. The smell of dampness and something rotten clung to it. 
The floor was no better. Dirt, dust, and an unknown mess clung to every corner, pooling in places where the cement had cracked. Holes lined the edges of the room, and faint scurrying sounds made my skin crawl. Rats.
I swallowed hard. No windows. No way to tell where I was. Only one door, shut tight.
I had no idea who was on the other side. But I knew one thing—I had to get out.
Until I heard something behind the door—a faint tick, followed by the slow creak of hinges as it swung open. My heart pounded, my body tensing as heavy footsteps echoed into the dimly lit room.
A towering figure stepped inside, his broad frame nearly filling the doorway. A deep red cloth covered the lower half of his face, but the jagged X-shaped scar across his forehead was impossible to miss. His tattered red clothing barely concealed the thick, corded muscles beneath. A massive sword hung at his belt, the worn handle suggesting years of bloodshed.
He stopped in front of me, staring down with cold, assessing eyes. I knew instantly—if I tried to run or fight, I wouldn’t make it out alive.
“Lord Owain wants to see you,” he said, his deep voice rough like grinding stone.
I hesitated. His posture remained still, yet I could feel the weight of an unspoken threat.
He turned and started walking.
I swallowed hard and forced myself to move. Follow him, or die here.
“Don’t try to run,” he growled, his voice edged with warning.
I followed him into the unknown. As I'd followed him the place was dark, the lobby was narrow but laughter echoed in the distance. I peaked as people with ripped clothing, long beards, and scary scars along their faces, golden teeth and different piercings in their faces and bodies. Different skull shaped design tattoos were all over their body.
The walls were cracked with black molds in some areas, unusual chains were hanging from the ceiling. We turned into a room. It was a large room, with a long brown table in front. A 3D map was placed, it was the map of the kingdom, figurines were scattered around the map.
“My Lord, the visitor is here” the man said.
A man standing from a large window, a bear fur cape on his back. He slowly turned to face me. His black leather clothing, his beard was tied, a scratch on his eye. He smiled revealing his vampire tooth on the side.
I could feel a tingling sensation, my heart pounded as I see him—a spark of memory from that unusual dream how he killed my father, the memory lingers on how he destroyed my life—Thorne’s life. If I could I will take him down myself yet I don't have that kind of strength. 
“Zaira,” he drawled, his voice smooth but laced with something darker. “Welcome home.”
I clenched my jaw. Home? This place was anything but.
He stepped forward, his boots clicking against the worn wooden floor. His vampire tooth gleamed as his smirk widened. “You look just like her.”
I stiffened. "Like who?" I knew the answer. I just wanted to hear him say it.
“Zenith,” he said, his tone almost amused. “Your dear mother.”
A lump formed in my throat, but I refused to let him see my fear. “What do you want?” I asked, forcing my voice to stay steady.
Owain chuckled, pacing slowly around the table, his fingers skimming the edges of the map. “Straight to the point. Just like her.” He tapped a figurine near the kingdom’s borders.
“You were never meant to be found, little Winter.”
I swallowed hard, the weight of his words sinking in.
“Yet here you are,” he continued, stepping forward, his piercing gaze locking onto mine. “And now that you are… we have unfinished business.”
My fingers curled into fists. “You still haven’t answered my question. What do you want from me so badly that you had your own son betray me? That you kidnapped me?”
Owain chuckled, his amusement making my stomach churn. “Did you like the surprise?” he asked. “Your mother and Therese stole something from me—something that should have secured my victory long ago.”
His words sent a chill through me. Therese… Thorne’s mother?
“I don’t have whatever it is you’re looking for,” I said through gritted teeth.
Owain only smirked. “Oh, but you do.” He stepped closer, his voice lowering to something sinister. 
“Long ago, your mother and my wife created something extraordinary. A formula that could awaken a person’s true potential—refining their talent, enhancing it beyond natural limits. But there was a cost.” His eyes gleamed. 
“Only those who drank it would carry its effects in their blood. And you, my dear Winter… you are the last living vessel.”
I took a step back, my pulse pounding. “You’re insane if you think some potion will help you take over the kingdom.”
“Oh, but it will.” He motioned to the kingdom’s map, pieces scattered across it like a game waiting to be played. 
“Your mother’s creation unlocks power. Strength, intelligence, skill—whatever a person excels at, it amplifies it tenfold. But there was something even more valuable than the formula itself.” He looked me dead in the eye. 
“The blood of those who consumed it.”
The breath hitched in my throat.
“Your mother and Therese were clever,” he went on. “They didn’t just hide the formula. They made sure its effects would stay—by feeding it to their own children.”
My body went rigid.
“Your talent awakened after your first surgery, didn’t it?” He smirked. 
“Your instincts sharpened, your hands steadied, your perception grew keener. That wasn’t just skill, Zaira. That was the formula working through you.”
I shook my head, my mind racing. No. No, that’s impossible.
He leaned closer. “I was impressed when you extracted the totem from that child. That was no ordinary procedure—it was a test.
I clenched my jaw. “And what? You expect me to make you a potion? Forget it.”
Owain laughed darkly. “I knew you’d say that. That’s why I don’t need you to cooperate.” He gestured to the table. “I have everything I need. Your blood, Thorne’s blood—the chemicals are still inside you. And with my son’s help, we’ll extract every last drop.”
I felt the air leave my lungs.
“You… you want to drain us?” My voice barely came out.
He tilted his head. “Oh, don’t look so surprised. Thorne was never the main target. You are. He’s just an added resource. You, on the other hand… You are the key.”
I stepped back, my heart hammering.
Owain grinned. “And lucky for me, your blood is still fresh.”
And across the table there's Caden standing in the shadows from the curtain just glancing and listening to every conversation we had.
Caden tilted his head, a slow, eerie grin stretching across his face as he stepped toward Zaira. His eyes gleamed with something twisted—something unrecognizable.
"After everything?" he mocked, voice laced with amusement. "Oh, Zai, you still don’t get it, do you?"
Zaira flinched at the way he said her name, like it was a joke. A game.
Caden chuckled, running a hand through his hair before pacing in front of her. “You were always so easy to fool. Always so trusting. That’s what made it fun.” His gaze flickered to Owain. 
“Honestly, I was surprised she didn’t catch on sooner.” 
Zaira’s stomach churned. “This isn’t you,” she whispered, though doubt gnawed at the edges of her words.
Caden smirked, stepping closer, lowering his voice like he was sharing a secret.
“Oh, but it is. The real me, Zai. Not the little sidekick you thought you had wrapped around your finger.” He grabbed a dagger from the table, spinning it between his fingers absentmindedly. 
“It was so entertaining, watching you run around, thinking you were in control. Thinking I was your friend.” He laughed, shaking his head. “But you were never in control. I was always ten steps ahead.”
Zaira’s breath caught as he leaned in, close enough that she could see the unhinged gleam in his eyes.
“And now?” His grin widened. “Now, you’re exactly where I want you.”
Owain let out a pleased hum. "Well done, my son."
Zaira swallowed hard. This isn’t him. It can’t be.
But as she stared into Caden’s face, into the wild, manic excitement burning in his gaze, the truth crashed over her like ice.
She had never truly known him at all.
I was back in that old room, locked away once more. The space felt smaller, colder, as if the walls were closing in. I couldn't remember how I got here, couldn't recall the conversation that led to this moment—but Owain’s words still echoed in my mind. 
The truth he revealed left me shaken, each syllable replaying like a curse I couldn't escape. My body refused to move, frozen in place, while my heart pounded so hard it felt like it might burst.
So this is it? This is where it all ends? I wasn’t even close to reaching my dreams, yet here I was, standing on the edge of death. And Thorne—he would be out there, left with nothing but wrath and half-truths, believing a lie because the missing piece would die with me. 
But I couldn't bring myself to pray for him to come. I wouldn’t risk him walking into this nightmare. I would rather face death alone than watch the person I love fall before my eyes.
A single tear slipped down my cheek, but I wiped it away quickly. Then, the door creaked open. My breath caught as a shadow stretched across the floor—a silhouette of a man standing just beyond the threshold.
He stepped forward, the dim light casting sharp angles on his face. It was Caden. His eyes held no warmth, only a cold amusement, as if I were nothing more than a pathetic spectacle before him.
"You look pathetic," he sneered, lips curling into a smirk.
My fists clenched at my sides. "What are you doing here?"
He let out a low chuckle. "Thought I'd stop by to watch you suffer." His grin widened. "Too bad you won’t get to see Thorne before you die."
A slow, mocking sigh escaped him. "You know, it was almost too easy to spread rumors between you two. You’re both so naive—so in love—that even our idiot colleagues didn’t suspect a thing." He shook his head, still grinning.
My breath hitched. "You were the one who—"
His smirk deepened. "I am."
"It's so easy," Caden sighed, tilting his head as if he pitied me. "You were too naive, too blinded by love for him."
His gaze darkened as he crouched down, his fingers gripping my chin with an almost lazy cruelty. "You're really ready to meet your fate, huh?"
Then, a smirk curled on his lips. "Or… you could escape."
My breathing grew uneven as his stare bore into me. He leaned closer, and I turned my head away, but it didn’t matter. His breath fanned against my skin as he inhaled deeply, his fingers crawling up my thigh like a snake slithering toward its prey. My stomach twisted with revulsion as he whispered,
"Come away with me. Live with me." His hand squeezed, sending a shudder of disgust through me. "Let’s run away, far from here, and start a family… just us two."
I felt his tongue flick out, hovering too close, his breath hot against my cheek.
"You're sick! Get away!" I snarled, shoving him with every ounce of strength I had. He stumbled back, crashing onto the floor.
For the first time, his smirk faltered. His eyes burned with irritation, his pride clearly wounded.
"I'd rather die here alone than spend the rest of my life with you!" I spat, my voice shaking with fury.
His expression twisted into something darker. His jaw clenched, and without hesitation, his hand lashed out. My head jerked to the side, a sharp sting spreading across my cheek. A bitter taste filled my mouth, my skin pulsing where he had struck.
"You bitch!" he hissed.
His fingers dug into my face, yanking my head up as he raised his hand again. But before he could strike, I lunged forward, my teeth sinking deep into his wrist.
His entire body stiffened before he recoiled, his arm trembling under my grip. I bit down harder, tasting the metallic tang of blood as he writhed, his free hand clawing at me in a desperate attempt to break free. His breaths came out ragged, uneven, panic flickering in his eyes as he tried to yank his arm away.
The moment I let go, he staggered back, gripping his bleeding wrist, his face twisted in pain. Blood dripped onto the mattress, staining the fabric in uneven splatters. He pressed his other hand over the wound, his breath shuddering as he stared at me, humiliated.
"You—" His voice broke off when the door burst open, two guards rushing in. Their gazes flickered between us, hesitation clear in their movements as they knelt beside him. Even they weren’t sure if they should be helping him.
Caden’s furious glare shot toward me, but before he could speak, a cold voice cut through the air.
"What’s all this ruckus?"
The weight of the room shifted.
I turned my head, and there stood Owain, his piercing gaze sweeping over the scene. The tension thickened, pressing against my ribs like an unseen force. My body tensed, my cheek still throbbing. Would he punish me for what I did?
One of the guards hesitated before speaking. "Forgive me, Master. The prisoner bit your son—he was trying to do something to her."
Owain’s expression remained unreadable as he studied me, then shifted his attention to Caden.
Then, without a word, his arm moved. The impact sent Caden to the ground. His entire body went rigid, one hand cradling the side of his face as his lips parted slightly, his breathing uneven.
"You good-for-nothing shit," Owain said, his voice eerily calm, laced with quiet fury. "Try something like that again, and I will kill you myself."
Caden barely managed to inhale before Owain stepped closer, looking down at him as if he were nothing more than an insect beneath his boot.
"Her blood is too precious to be stained by your worthless existence."
The words landed heavier than any strike. Caden’s hands curled into fists at his sides, his face burning with humiliation, but he knew better than to protest.
"Get out and find Doctor Macabre," Owain ordered, his voice final.
The guards hauled Caden up, dragging him toward the door. His footsteps were uneven, his shoulders tense, but he never looked back.
The door slammed shut. The lock clicked into place.
I was alone again.
My hands trembled. My cheek burned. The metallic scent of blood still clung to the air. Slowly, I curled up on the mattress, my body shaking as silent tears slipped down my face.
Thorne, wherever you are please be safe.