THE UNBREAKABLE PIECE (FIRST BOOK OF THE HIDDEN WORLD) English version

PROLOGUE

London, England. 10 years before.

"It's always unpleasant to run into you," Drahceb observed Alice with disgust as he sat across from her. But at that moment, he needed her services. He needed an advantage over his enemies, even though the war had not yet been declared.

The witch Alice Kyteler dressed extravagantly, and a sort of cloak covered most of her jet-black hair. Her desire to appear mysterious and exotic seemed to be fulfilled. The shack that surrounded her showed how she had had to reduce herself to living in the world of humans. Drahceb had found her a few weeks ago, and although his purpose had been to kill her, he decided she would be useful for his mission. So, he spared her life, for a limited time or until he got bored of her.

"I don't really care what you think of me, Alice," he said, settling into the small chair with an elegance he had learned from years with the royalty. "I need you to tell me about my future."

She showed him her teeth, forming a beautiful and fake smile. She abhorred him in all his essence. He represented everything that was wrong in this world, a man with a god complex and enough power to impose it.

"You should know how to do it," she replied.

"It's not exactly my gift."

"And it's not mine either, I'm a witch, not a damn crystal ball."

Drahceb rolled his eyes to the back of his head. Even that simple gesture, he had made with a grace that Alice envied.

"You must learn to watch your words with me, witch," he spat irritably.

Alice knew that rumors about the prince's personality had never been characterized by his mercy and patience. Even good tongues claimed that he was a wicked and cruel being, especially with those of his kind. The covens. However, Alice was aware that her powers were now a necessary evil for him. Although nothing would stop him from killing her after their little encounter. And she really didn't like the idea of dying on a rainy Friday at the hands of a spoiled prince.

"Before we start, I need you to make the Veritas oath for me. I want to make sure you pay and that I won't end up dead after this."

Drahceb slowly lifted his gaze, aware of his attractive charm. His eyes were as clear as the light of a lighthouse during a dark night, his profile slender and elongated with a bearing worthy of a king, the muscles of that exhaustive training carried out by his kind, timidly peeking out from under his shirt's fabric. He brought his hand to the bridge of his thin nose, showing a bit of offense.

"Really, Alice? Do you need to make the Veritas to someone from the royal family?"

"Especially someone from royalty, they tend to be the best liars."

The woman's Irish accent had not disappeared over time. She had an unusually tempting beauty, of course, she was a witch, thought Drahceb. Her nature was based on temptation. But she was not the kind of woman who attracted him.

She rearranged the gadgets scattered on the table, using them to earn a few pounds by deceiving humans who were stupid enough to believe in divination. However, she knew that Drahceb could distinguish the toys she had in front of real magic.

She had not lied when she said that divination was not her gift, but her mother had taught her to read the future by taking a person's pulse. It took a lot of concentration and effort to achieve it, but she wanted to finish quickly with her unwanted guest and maybe earn a few gold coins in the process.

"I need you to concentrate, little prince," anger flooded Drahceb's eyes as quickly as a flame ignites gasoline, he hated being called that and she knew it. "Give me your hands."