Chapter Three: Chains of Deceit
Evanora’s POV
Gazing through the window, I let the cold nocturnal breeze brush past the rusty frame. The moon’s reflection stretched across the dunes below, painting the red sand a deeper, more violent shade. A fitting color for the world that had turned against me.
The guards had brought me blood—just enough to keep me functioning. Kaden hadn’t returned since the last interrogation. Perhaps he thought leaving me alone would make me more pliable. He had no idea how long I’d spent in silence, surviving worse than this.
I’d been cruel once. Unforgiving. Cold. But always loyal—to the realm, to the crown, to the future I thought I’d been born to rule. I’d bled for our borders. Destroyed the creatures that dared threaten us. Vampires. Ghouls. Shadows. Monsters that made others tremble—I turned them to ash.
I believed I’d inherit the throne. That one day, the kingdom would stand because I held it steady.
But belief is for fools.
My heart—once the source of power other vampires feared—was now sealed in a cursed box. Replaced by something fragile. Mortal. Controllable. The Elders took it. Stripped me of it. Cut it from my chest and sentenced me to silence.
The ones I protected condemned me.
My name became a whisper. My legacy, a lie.
My father didn’t raise his voice in protest. And the Elders? They smiled when they shackled me.
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Their decree was final.
I still remember the courtroom—stone pillars like fangs. Their judgment echoing:
“When the full moon rises, the Princess shall perish.”
Not exile.
Not prison.
Extinction.
I remember standing tall, chains biting into my wrists, silver coiling around my skin like venom.
“I kneel before you, Your Majesty, not in surrender… but in truth. Let my death be earned, not gifted to your fear.”
But truth meant nothing to them.
So I vanished.
Escaped.
The only victory I’d managed.
But freedom is hollow when you leave your soul behind.
As the desert night pressed in, old memories surfaced.
---
Dawn
Kaden arrived just after sunrise. No words. Just cold command.
“We’re moving,” he said, voice unreadable.
I didn’t ask where.
He shackled my wrists. Thick steel, laced with silence runes. Then a black cloth over my eyes. Darkness wrapped around me like a second skin.
He led me down a corridor. His grip was firm—not cruel, but firm. A vehicle waited, creaking and old,. The journey was long. Unmarked. Silent.
Eventually, we stopped.
“Out,” he ordered.
His hand tugged me forward. The ground beneath my boots shifted from sand to stone. Around us, I heard voices—low at first. Then louder. Sharper. Dozens of women speaking at once, their words tangling into a meaningless swarm.
The blindfold came off.
A prison stood before me. Cold. Stark. Beautiful, in a cruel way. Its walls were forged entirely from enchanted silver—not pure, but bound with powerful banes. I felt it in my bones before I touched it. This wasn’t metal.
It was a warning.
“Move,” Kaden said again.
I didn’t.
“Tell me what I’ve done,” I said. Not loud. Not angry. Just… tired.
He didn’t answer.
I stepped forward.
The silver bars pulsed. Magic flared.
The moment I touched them—just barely—pain rippled through my palms. A slow burn, spreading like acid through my veins. I yanked my hand back, but the damage was done. Skin blistered where silver had kissed it.
A woman approached from the shadows. Broad shoulders. Pale hair. Her eyes were flat and unimpressed.
“Don’t bother,” she said. “They’re laced with banes meant for things worse than wolves.”
“Good to know,” I muttered, flexing my fingers.
She raised an eyebrow. “First timer?”
I didn’t answer. I was too busy memorizing the structure. Counting escape routes. Feeling the pressure of the warded floor under my boots.
“You’ll stay here until someone decides what to do with you,” she added.
“Careful,” I said softly, brushing dust off my sleeve. “Someone might mistake this for illegal containment.”
Her smirk didn’t quite reach her eyes. “You think you're the first mysterious prisoner brought here?”
“No,” I replied calmly. “But I might be the last.”
She paused. Then walked off.
I dropped to the cold floor of the cell, palms still tingling from the contact.
No explanation. No accusation.
Just chains, silver, and the slow crawl of magic meant to keep me docile.
But they should have known better.
I’d burned in worse places than this.
And every prison…
Eventually breaks.
---

