Two years had passed and Denise, now 20, was still evading the throne. Each day seemed to stretch endlessly as she found ways to push back her ascension to the throne. She didn’t want it.
She had no desire for the power or the responsibilities that came with it. Yet, the looming crown hung over her, a constant reminder of the path she was supposed to take.
Queen Dion had made her intentions clear: she wanted to retire. After decades of service, Dion longed for quiet days, to spend time with Leila and their children—Denise and Fiore.
She had given everything to the kingdom and now, more than ever, desired peace. But Denise, despite being next in line, continued to evade her duty, inventing excuses to avoid stepping up.
However, what Denise couldn’t escape were the nightmares.
They had begun as whispers in the back of her mind, shadows creeping into her dreams, but over time, they had grown darker, more vivid. And tonight was no different.
In her dream, Denise found herself back in the Southern Province, the pungent scent of Nyxalith heavy in the air. Emrys’s unconscious body lay limp in her arms, his shallow breaths barely audible. The weight of him pressed down on her, the guilt twisting inside her like a knife. She tried to move, but her legs felt heavy, like she was wading through thick fog.
Then, in an instant, the dream shifted, and she was no longer in the Southern Province but in the Southwest. The wide, endless fields stretched out before her, bathed in an eerie, unnatural silence. The wind felt wrong, like it was carrying secrets, whispers of her darkest truths.
And then, in the distance, Denise saw her.
The girl she could never escape. The one who haunted her every night—Arerden’s only daughter.
Denise's stomach twisted in dread. The girl stood half in shadow, but her face was visible, pale and drawn, her once-bright green eyes bloodshot and full of accusation. Her soft features were now marred by death, her skin ghostly white, and blood trickled from her eyes down to her chin in dark, glistening lines.
Denise’s heart pounded wildly in her chest. She took a step back, the cold grip of terror tightening around her throat. The girl’s lifeless expression, that horrific stare—it was more than she could bear.
“You killed me,” the girl’s voice echoed, though her lips never moved. The accusation rang in the air, sharp and cold as ice. “For nothing. Out of jealousy. Out of fear.”
Denise tried to speak, but no sound escaped her throat. The nightmare engulfed her, dragging her deeper into the suffocating guilt that gnawed at her soul.
She had killed the girl. Robbed a father of his only daughter. And all for what? To protect Elo. To keep her. Denise’s possessiveness, her fear of losing Elo, had driven her to take an innocent life.
"No... no, it wasn’t supposed to happen like this!" Denise gasped, backing away from the apparition. The guilt, the shame, it all threatened to crush her.
The girl’s voice grew louder, more relentless, as she stepped forward. “You killed me, Denise. You killed me to keep her for yourself.”
And then, just as the nightmare reached its peak, the wizard’s voice slithered through the shadows, wrapping around Denise’s mind like a suffocating fog.
“This is who you are, Denise,” his voice whispered, oily and dark. “A murderer. A deceiver. You took her life because you couldn’t stand the thought of sharing Elo. And now, you will carry that sin forever.”
The dream twisted, contorting into something more horrifying as Denise saw the girl’s broken body, the blood that had spilled, the fear in her eyes as she had fallen. No matter how hard Denise tried, she couldn’t escape it—the guilt, the weight of what she had done.
Suddenly, Denise woke up, gasping for air, drenched in sweat. Her hands gripped the sheets tightly, her heart racing as if it might burst from her chest. The darkness of her room felt suffocating, as though it still held the echoes of her nightmare.
Her lips parted, and in a shaky whisper, full of bitterness and madness, she murmured, “I killed you... because you were trying to take her from me. Elo is mine. Mine and mine only.” She convinced herself, trying to push the guilt away.
Her eyes burned with possessiveness, and the wizard’s influence clung to her mind like a fog she couldn’t shake. His manipulation had deepened the cracks in her already fragile state, pushing her further toward the edge.
The nightmare had felt too real, too close, and Denise knew she was losing her grip. The guilt of Meredith Hale’s death, Arerden’s only daughter, had never truly left her. It had festered, grown into something more sinister, something she could no longer control.
Denise sat up, her breath still ragged, her mind spinning. The weight of her actions, the guilt, the jealousy—it was suffocating. She was trapped in a web of her own making, spiraling deeper into madness with every passing night. The wizard’s dark voice was always there, lurking in the back of her mind, ready to push her further into the darkness.
She wasn’t sure how much longer she could hold on. She needed Elo.
A/N i didn't mention Meredith's name because, Denise didn't know her name. So, in her dreams, she's just the nameless girl she murdered (by mistake).
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BOOK II: Dawn of Aetheria(G!P)
Fantasy[BOOK II] In the Kingdom of Aetheria, Dion Leeve's daughter, Denise, bound by the unbreakable ties of the mate bond, finds herself torn between love and doubt. Determined to uncover the truth, Denise embarks on a secretive journey, risking everythi...
