The Dragon Heir (BOOK#1)

CHAPTER 14

✨️The Blood Of The Throne✨️

*Delilah pov*

The news hit me like a physical blow, a searing pain that twisted my guts and left me gasping for air. My daughter, Elara, dead. Killed by that wretched girl, Melike. The very thought sent a wave of icy rage through my veins, freezing my blood and turning my heart to stone.

I could practically feel the power of my magic thrumming beneath my skin, a dark, potent energy that gnawed at my restraint. Melike was nothing but a spoiled, incompetent child, a usurper who stole my rightful crown. She had murdered my daughter, the only one who truly loved and understood me. My fury was a tempest, churning and roiling within, threatening to erupt in a storm of black magic.

I was Delilah, the sorceress of the seven Kingdom, feared for my cruelty and the dark magic that flowed through my veins. I had been forced to hide away from my home, forced to flee with Elara to this distant land, a refuge I never truly felt. But now, this exile felt like a cage, a barrier that separated me from my vengeance.

Melike had tasted victory only for a brief moment. Her reign would be short-lived. I would have my revenge, and I would make her pay for every drop of Elara's blood. Her death would be a symphony of agonizing pain, a slow, drawn-out spectacle of my wrath. My mind was a battleground, the air around me crackling with the energy of my fury.

I paced the stone floor of my chambers, the rhythmic thud of my footsteps echoing in the silence. My eyes gleamed with dark intent, and my lips curled into a cruel sneer. I would not be a powerless victim. I would weave my magic into a weapon, a force so powerful, so terrifying, that even Melike, with her stolen throne, would tremble before me.

I had spent years honing my skills, mastering the dark arts, and now I would unleash them with a force that would shake the very foundations of Melike's kingdom. I would bring death and destruction upon her court, a wave of terror that would drown her in despair.

I would feel the satisfaction of seeing her reign crumble, her power vanish, her life end in a torrent of my wrath. My daughter's death was a wound that would never heal, a scar etched into my soul. And Melike, the usurper, the thief, would pay for it.

The news of Elara's death had spread like wildfire through the Azulon Kingdom. The whispers of fear and trembling voices were a sweet melody to my ears. They confirmed my power, the fear they held for me, the sorceress who wielded the dark arts.

My enemies thought they had vanquished me, banished me to a forgotten corner of the world. They were fools. I was not finished. I was Delilah, the sorceress, and vengeance was a sweet, intoxicating potion, a poison I was eager to serve to Melike, the usurper.

In the darkness of my chambers, I gathered my strength, my magic swirling around me, a vortex of dark energy. I would rise from the ashes, like a phoenix, more powerful, more terrible than before. Melike would be mine, her throne would be mine, and the kingdom would tremble before the power of the sorceress, the power of Delilah.

'Power is power,' I muttered to myself, a sinister phrase that echoed in the desolate corridors of my castle. I would not rest until I had stripped Melike of everything she held dear.

Her dragons, those magnificent beasts that had once been my terror, now became my target. I delved into forbidden tomes and consulted with malevolent spirits, seeking knowledge that could harness their might.

My machinations have been long in the making, every step carefully calculated. I have established alliances with rogue wizards and shadowed assassins, their loyalty bought with promises of power and wealth. They will be my instruments in this deadly game.

First, I must eliminate my niece, the usurper who stands in my way. Poison, a silent and cruel method, will be my weapon of choice. I have acquired a vial of deadly venom, concealed within a tarnished silver cup. The innocent child, unaware of her fate, will eagerly reach for its forbidden contents.

As the poison courses through her veins, her screams of agony will be music to my ears. The throne will be vacant, and the path to my rightful ascension will be cleared.

But beyond her demise, I have a grander plan. I will seize control of Melike's armies, turning them against my enemies. The kingdom's coffers will be emptied, and its riches will be mine to command. I will establish an empire of darkness, where my word will be law, and my will shall be supreme.

Each piece of this treacherous puzzle is meticulously prepared. The assassins stand poised, their blades sharpened for the kill. The poison awaits its victim, hidden within the depths of my secret lair. And I, Delilah, the rightful queen, will emerge from the shadows to reclaim my throne.

Suddenly and evil plan popped on my mind. I needed a weapon. A tool to dismantle my niece's reign and pave the way for my return. And that weapon was her little dragon, Orphelia. A young, fiery dragon, eager to prove her worth, and tragically naive.

My plan was intricate, a symphony of manipulation and subtle manipulation. My first step was to exploit the inherent rivalry between Orphelia and Flame, her brother. They were both powerful, both destined for greatness.

I would use a powerful spell on Orphelia's thirst for power to twist her against her brother, whispering doubts in her ear, planting seeds of resentment. Soon, she would see Flame as an obstacle, a rival to be dethroned.

Finally, I would use my ancient powers. A spell, woven from the threads of fear and mistrust, would be cast upon Orphelia. It would amplify her existing insecurities, twisting her loyalties and blinding her to the truth. Orphelia, once a loyal daughter of Melike, would become a weapon in my hands, ready to tear down her own family.

I would ride on Orphelia's back, the scales of her rage my shield, her fiery breath my sword. Together, we would descend upon Melike, a whirlwind of destruction, leaving only ashes in its wake. And when the dust settled, I, Delilah, would finally stand as Queen of Melike once more. My niece's reign would be a footnote in history, a cautionary tale of betrayal and injustice.

Tonight, I would weave the threads of fate. Tonight, I would claim my vengeance. The kingdom was mine. The throne was mine. And Melike would tremble before its rightful ruler.

The time is nigh, and the stage is set. Let the dance of death begin.

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