In the vast and ancient Onichynus empire, two families held unparalleled sway: the Maximus and the Liberium clans. These two families not only epitomized power and prestige but also were the keys to the stability of the empire.
Two clashing persona...
In the vast and ancient Onichynus empire, two families held unparalleled sway: the Maximus and the Liberium clans. These two families did not only epitomize power and prestige, but also were the keys to the stability of the empire. A marriage between them was arranged as an order to hold the delicate balance of peace and dominance. But this was something that the two it was designed to unite, Sylus Liberium and Dessythene Maximus, strongly opposed.
Sylus Liberium, the only son of the highly regarded Liberium family, was a man of strength and formidable reputation. His presence was intimidating and firm, while his will commanded respect and fear in equal parts. The Liberiums were known for their martial skills and high status within the empire, with Sylus living it to the fullest.
In contrast, the Maximus family was the epitome of power in Onichynus. They were the ruling dynasty, with their lineage intertwined with the history of the empire. Dessythene Maximus, the only daughter of this illustrious family, was intended for Sylus to marry. But Dessythene was no ordinary noblewoman; she remained mysterious and terrible, gaining the ominous title of "Death." The idea of being united with such a dreaded and enigmatic being was overwhelming to Sylus.
As the marriage date came closer, Sylus unearthed more unsettling truths about Dessythene. She was not just a powerful woman; she was almost a force of nature, a living embodiment of death. This revelation brought shivers down Sylus's spine. To marry such a person who possessed such terrible and dark power was almost impossible to believe. How could he, a man of strength and dominance, accept a fate where he might be subjugated by someone so cruel and strong?
Tensions and emotions in this marriage between the families were high. The future of Onichynus was on the edge of collapse. Would Sylus bow to the forces of his family and empire with life bound to Dessythene? Or would he get away from this marriage at all costs?
However, the destiny of the Onichynus empire and its most powerful families lay hanging in the balance as the destinies of Sylus and Dessythene intertwined in an unsure struggle. All the answers lay hidden in the unfolding drama of their lives, where power, fear, and fate intermingled into one thrilling tale of defiance and destiny.
Follow along in the breathtaking saga of Sylus and Dessythene, where love, power, and rebellion stand head to head within the bosom of an empire. Can peace be attained, or is war the only way? That, only time can tell.
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"Be careful, Sylus," she whispered, so softly her voice seemed a warm breath of pain against my ear. I held her hands at her waist so soft, so gentle, guiding her with a slow and practiced grace as we swayed together in time to the music filling my room, a cocoon of sound and sensation all around us, so foreign and something I could not put a name to.
Time flew away; it flew so quickly that it seemed the walls of the room started to vanish and it was like nothing but the music, her skin pressed close to mine and the quiet intimacy of her breath. Her lips brushed the edge of my ear, and though she did not know, my desire to be near her held darker purposes-a hunger not just to hold her, but to kill her and see her bleed.
The feel of her slender waist under my hands, her trust as she moved with me, gave me a powerful rush. She let me control her completely. "Be gentle," she sighed, her words a plea as we continued dancing together. My hand followed the graceful curve of her neck, so fragile it seemed it would splinter if I just pressed a little harder. Her neck arched at my touch, letting a soft exhalation leave her lips.
The cold steel of the dagger pressed into my palm, ready and waiting for her body. Her pale, smooth skin seemed to call out, seeming to beg for the sharp edge of the blade. Just as I was about to strike, her hands found mine, stopping me with a strength that surprised me, her grip so strong that what felt like steel.
I was shocked for a second, but I quickly shielded my expression with nothing but my usual blank expression. Her eyes bore into mine, unwavering, and they kept me rooted to the spot. Desperation surged through me as I tried again, my dark intent mingling with the dim light in the room.
I managed only a shallow cut on her hand, crimson red droplets of her forming and sliding down her wrist. She recoiled; her push on me was with a force I had not expected, it was twice stronger. I laughed bitterly, and that laughter seemed to echo in the room. "Don't you like it?" I hissed at her, gazing into her eyes. Before I could do anything more, she went down on her knees, looking up at me as though in surrender.
I stepped closer, palming her face and making her look into my eyes. "Pathetic," I spat, waiting for her to fall to her knees. She only grinned-wickedly, horribly-as if daring me to do something, anything. The dagger slipped from my hand and clattered to the floor, making an awful sound.
"Thank you for trying, Sylus," she said softly, her voice maddeningly calm. "I know you're against this arranged marriage." Her words cut deeper than any blade, twisted painfully within my chest, as she looked at me with those soft eyes. She was right. Her face, daily torture, hid her true nature. She played the sweet, submissive bride-to-be, but deep inside, she was ruthless, conniving; she was just someone who got what she wanted and never felt an inch of guilt, probably even very greedy.
"What? Are you angry with me? Blood always tastes like bitterness, so why does yours taste like sweetness?" she sneered in a voice of feigned concern as she took my bleeding hand and brought one of my fingers to her mouth, whispered by my skin, warm and close in breath-everything wet, and I could feel the warmth of her mouth-what is she doing?
"Get out of my way, get off of me!" I barked, shying back, unwilling to subject myself beneath her power.
"You are speaking to Death, Sylus. You are speaking to Dessythene." Her voice was icy, and her eyes gleamed as if with humor, laughing at me.
Death, also known as Dessythene, the offspring of Maximus, the most powerful family in Onichynus. My family, bitter rivals with hers, had plotted this marriage for survival. I had to marry her or we both would perish. Her smug demeanor, her arrogance made my blood boil. I refuse to be under anyone, most especially her. And no matter how angry I was, it didn't faze her, which makes me angrier.
I tried to conjure my power again, the dagger just nicking her finger as blood started to emerge. She didn't even flinch, keeping perfectly composed, standing there staring blankly at me.
But she did step closer and placed her arms slowly but painfully around my neck, her cold maroon eyes locking onto mine. Her bloody finger trailed over my lips, and she whispered again, "I know you want me dead, but I am death." It was as if she spelled her words on me, for as our lips met and mingled bloods together, it felt like enchantment.
Yeah, there were shivers within me-yes, way deep down, the cold dread was setting in. Right, just as she'd said, she was death, and I was completely snared by her. Then, as she placed her lips upon my lips, sinking it in deeper, I find myself to be under it.
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A Sylus x Reader AU
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