**WARNING!** Heavy use of language and violence is present. Some scenes may not be suitable for younger readers.
This book, "Regal Rift," is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidenta...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Lady Soren staggered through the winding corridors of the temporal labyrinth, her hand pressed against her side where blood seeped through her tunic.
Every step felt heavier, her vision flickering in and out of focus. She had lost more blood than anticipated, and it was becoming harder to think clearly.
The walls of the labyrinth shifted as if alive, twisting and blurring before her eyes.
Each breath she took was cold, biting, and her heartbeat pounded in her ears, drowning out the world around her.
She had to reach the center. The portal key was her only chance.
Her fingers brushed the hilt of her sword, a reminder of the dangers lurking in the shadows.
As she rounded a corner, she collided with something solid. The force knocked her back, sending a fresh wave of pain through her body.
She bit back a cry, adrenaline momentarily sharpening her senses.
Without hesitation, Lady Soren's hand flew to her sword, the cold metal hissing as she drew it.
She adopted a defensive stance, eyes narrowing, expecting an enemy to strike.
Her vision blurred again, but the figure before her slowly came into focus, a tall figure with commanding violet eyes.
Prince Lyxander.
His gaze was unyielding, assessing her with a calm intensity that sent a shiver down her spine. Her body screamed with pain, but she tightened her grip on the sword.
“If you dare strike, Prince, I’ll fight you to the end,” she spat, voice strained but determined.
Lyxander didn’t reach for his weapon. He simply stared, his expression unreadable.
Then, he moved, not to draw his sword, but to tear a strip of cloth from his robe. The gesture was slow, deliberate.
“What... are you doing?” Lady Soren demanded, her confusion clear in her voice.
Without a word, Lyxander approached her. Her muscles tensed, but he didn’t attack. Instead, he extended the fabric toward her wound, his violet eyes softening just slightly.
"You're bleeding," he said quietly, his voice calm.
“I don’t need your pity,” she hissed, though her voice wavered. The blood loss was taking its toll, and her sword arm was growing weaker.
Lyxander ignored her protest and stepped closer, wrapping the torn cloth around her wound with steady hands.
Soren blinked, too stunned to resist. She had heard of his kindness, but to experience it here, in the heart of the labyrinth, caught her off guard.
"I won't let you be the first to reach the portal key," she said, though her words lacked the bite she intended.
Lyxander remained silent as he finished bandaging her. He straightened, his expression still serious, and stepped past her without another word.
