PLEASE READ THE FOREWORD!
| enemies to lovers | dagger to throat | morally grey oc | slow-burn | dark themes | gore | violence | toxicity | corruption arc | golden era | mythology references | dark fantasy | 18+
Ariadne smirked at him, staring at b...
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𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖑𝖔𝖌𝖚𝖊
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𝐉𝐀𝐍𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐘 𝟏𝐒𝐓, 𝟏𝟗𝟗𝟔
𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 and she was lost in it.
Ariadne Velasquez thrust her hands into the river, observing the water to see if any creature jumped out and attacked her. At a young age, the assassin learned she always had to be cautious in her father's territory.
There was blood under her fingernails. She washed it away, the ice-cold water biting her skin, but the blood clung. The assassin always liked having her hands clean when meeting her father.
In her head, she counted the victims she had killed that night. Sometimes, Ariadne was so tired that she couldn't remember. The numbers ravaged the assassin's mind at the most ungodly of hours, coating every crevice in her mind and consuming her every thought.
She stood up, dismissing the counting in her head. The assassin wrung her hands and grabbed the price she had obtained. Her boots made a wet squelch noise as she went, like water being pushed from a damp sponge, and thick crimson liquid welled up beneath her feet, staining the earth. She tried to hide a wince as her feet trod lightly on the soil, sore from the fight the man had put up, walking the path to the castle's entrance.
The front lawn had become a private cemetery for her father's victims, and Ariadne couldn't help but suppress a shiver as though ice had replaced her spine. She preferred the backyard, where everything differed from the castle's front part.
The graveyard was bathed in darkness, and each statue that graced the cemetery was exquisitely crafted yet slowly eroding. The gargoyle features were obscured, and the angels' wings had been damaged. The most stunning apparition was a motherly figure. She was hauntingly beautiful, and her eyes appeared to follow the assassin's movements, perhaps a trick of the light. Her face alone was enough to trigger nightmares. In this graveyard, dying flowers blossomed, stark against the dewy grass. The moonlight cast a ghoulish glow.
