The moonlight cast a faint glow on the forest. Its silvery beams filtering through the canopy of trees. The ground beneath his feet was cold, the earth firm yet alive with a strange energy. His presence seemed to stir the very air around him, as if the forest itself recognized him, even in the darkness. His steps were soft, deliberate, his body moving with the grace of a predator, each movement fluid and without waste.

The man was striking—hauntingly beautiful, but in a way that carried an unsettling allure. His face, featured high cheekbones and a sharp jawline, which was both elegant and dangerous, as if crafted by hands that understood the balance between beauty and power. His eyes, a piercing basil green, held a depth that could drown anyone who dared to look too long, their color shifting ever so slightly in the faint light, like the deep waters of an ancient, forgotten sea. His dark hair was neatly combed back, its length just enough to frame his face, giving him a timeless quality. Modern clothes clung to his athletic frame: a tailored black coat over a fitted shirt, dark trousers, and boots that were both stylish and practical. There was a quiet command in his appearance, a subtle arrogance in the way he moved, like a man who had seen too much and survived every moment of it.

As he reached a clearing, the forest fell silent, as if holding its breath. Before him stretched a patch of bare earth—nothing more than an unremarkable piece of ground, yet it was exactly what he sought. He paused for a moment, then knelt, placing his hand on the cold soil. His lips parted, and in a voice barely more than a whisper, he chanted the spell. The language was old, ancient, even its syllables thick with power, and as they left his mouth, the ground beneath his hand began to hum with energy.

The earth trembled. Slowly, as though it had been waiting for this moment for centuries, the land before him shifted. From the soil, the roof of the underground palace began to rise. The surface was black as midnight, yet it shimmered in the moonlight with a strange, almost hypnotic beauty. The exterior walls were sleek and smooth, carved from stone that seemed to drink in the light and twist it into something darkly captivating. It was ancient—its design elegant and regal, with hints of age in its grand arches and towering spires—but there was something undeniably eerie about it. The black stone was veined with deep forest green, the color of moss that grew only in the deepest parts of forgotten woods, and vines of a similar shade clung to its surface, as if the palace was part of the earth itself.

The grand entrance emerged last, the twin doors towering above him, forged from the same black stone as the palace but inlaid with silver filigree that spiraled into ruins of power. Without hesitation, the man stepped forward, placing his hand on the door. They groaned as they swung open, their weight shifting with a slow, ominous creak.

Inside, the air was thick, almost oppressive. The ceiling arched high above, disappearing into shadow, and the walls glistened with dark emerald hues, reflecting the faint light of torches that burned with a cold, green flame. Columns of twisted stone lined the hallway, each one carved with faces, some twisted in agony, others frozen in serene beauty. The floor beneath him was cold marble, a deep green like the forest canopy, but with black veins running through it, giving the impression that something darker pulsed beneath the surface.

He moved forward, his boots echoing faintly against the stone. The vastness of the palace swallowed him, yet he did not feel small. This was a place of power, a place that had witnessed countless moments of dread, and yet, he felt it calling to him. He knew where he was going—the throne room, at the heart of the palace.

As he passed through the corridors, a heavy door slammed shut behind him with a sharp snap, the sound reverberating through the stone walls like a final, inescapable judgment. He paused, his basil eyes narrowing for a moment, but he did not turn back.

"You are late," a feminine voice cut through the silence, low and smooth, carrying with it a weight that forced him to his knees before he could even process the command.

He dropped to the ground, his head bowed, though his face remained calm, his voice steady. "Greetings to her highness. I apologise for my timing, but I didn't intend to be late." he replied, his tone neutral, almost cold.

The air shifted, and with it came the scent of poison—something subtle but sharp, like venom drifting through the air, threatening to suffocate him. His nostrils flared slightly as the smell hit him, but he didn’t flinch. From the shadows behind the throne, a figure began to emerge, moving with grace. Her apperance was delicate yet deadly, a mixture of allure and danger that was impossible to ignore.

She stepped into the faint light, and for a moment, he allowed himself to take in her beauty. She was breathtaking, in a way that was as much a warning as it was a temptation. Her skin was  bronze in shade, so flawless. Her hair cascaded in dark waves, shimmering like the deep shadows of a forest at midnight. Her charcoal eyes—dangerous and predatory—glowed with a faint luminescence.

"That doesn't change the fact that you are late." she said, her lips curling into a smile that was as beautiful as it was deadly.

"I am sorry." he responded, his voice maintaining that same cold tone, and his head still bowed in submission.

She stepped closer, her bare feet moving soundlessly across the marble floor, the hem of her black-green gown whispering against the stone. His eyes, still lowered, were focused on the water that surrounded the path leading to the throne. The stillness of it reflected her image, warping it slightly, but only enough to enhance her ethereal presence.

"Sorry?" she repeated, her voice dripping with mockery after a long pause. The word hung in the air between them like a dagger poised to strike.

He knew, in that instant, that he had made a grave mistake. His muscles tensed, but he remained still, too late to correct himself. And then, before he could react, the pain hit him—a sharp, searing sensation rushing through his veins like liquid fire. His breath caught in his throat as his body betrayed him, locking in place under the force of her will.

She was over him in a heartbeat, her hand tightening around his neck with a strength that belied her delicate form.

"Did I ask you to apologize?" she whispered, her voice as sweet as honey but sharp as a blade. Her lips were inches from his ear, and he could feel her breath, cold against his skin.

His eyes met hers, and for a moment, he was lost in them. They were like the poison that filled the air around them—beautiful, captivating, and lethal. Her hand roamed dangerously close to his face, her nails grazing his skin as she played with him, her movements slow and deliberate.

"Did I ask you to apologize?" she repeated, her voice low, taunting.

His mind scrambled for a response, but his body was paralyzed, still reeling from the venom that coursed through his veins. He could feel the weight of the dagger she held, its tip pressing lightly against his skin, close enough that even the slightest movement would draw blood.

"No." he finally managed to croak, his throat constricting beneath her grip.

Her lips curved into a smirk, and a shadow of satisfaction flickered in her eyes. She released him suddenly, the pressure on his throat disappearing as she stepped back, her gaze never leaving his.

"I want his head by tomorrow." she said, her tone casual, as if she were discussing something as trivial as the weather.

He nodded, standing slowly as she rose, his body still trembling from the aftereffects of her touch. She turned away from him, her attention shifting as if he no longer mattered.

"Leave." she said again, the word a dismissal wrapped in darkness.

And just like that, the shadows swallowed her once more, leaving him standing alone in the vast, silent throne room.

◍✧⁠*⁠。

Dear readers,

I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter of Desolated Hearts. Please don't forget to like this chapter and follow my accounts on both Instagram and stck.me, as I will keep updating you with the story.