These threads that bind and tear *A dark fae fantasy- romance*

Prologue: The rider

The night the moon cracked, the sky burned with silver fire. It was so blinding that Aveline had to blink the black dots that now clouded her line of vision free.

She stood at the edge of the village, staring up at the jagged line that now split down the moon. She could feel the tremor beneath her feet, a ripple of energy that thrummed through the air like a living pulse. It radiated through her, making her gasp for air and small beads of sweat form on the edges of her scalp. Her breath hitched as the first shard fell, trailing a tail of shimmering light. It was beautiful, she thought absently, like a star plummeting to earth. So small that it neatly fit in the palm of her hand. It was surprisingly cool, the edges sharp capturing and emitting light in a way that seemed almost impossible. A spectacular piece of beauty.

But beauty in this world always came with a cost.

The golden threads of fate tangled around her vision, the way they always did when something momentous was about to happen. They shimmered, pulsing like veins of light, connecting the people in her village to their futures. And in that moment, every thread—every bright, shining future—was severed.

The threads snapped violently, bouncing, the golden light winking out into nothingness. She gasped, stumbling back, her vision overwhelmed by the loss of connection, her head throbbed. Where there had once been paths to follow, futures to navigate, there was now only darkness. The fate of every soul in her village had gone black, their destinies unmoored.

The sky crackled again, and this time, the moon began to bleed. A dark silver, almost black that creeped from the crack. Bubbling with life.

Aveline watched as more fragments rained down, each one burning brighter than the last. They weren't simple stones; they were pieces of the moon itself, infused with a power she had never felt before, a magic that thrummed in her bones and shook the very foundations of the earth. She had heard of this power she remembered.

"Run!" someone shouted behind her. The voice broke the trance, pulling her back to the moment. She turned, eyes wide with fear, and saw her village descending into panic. People around her darted about grabbing their children, screaming.

Her mother was pulling at her arm, her golden eyes pleading with her, desperate to drag her to safety, but Aveline couldn't move.

She could feel it—something else was coming. Something worse.

The crack in the moon had sent a ripple through the world, and in its wake, the veil between realms had thinned. The power unleashed from the shards was not just a warning—it was a summons.

A summons for the fae.

Aveline's blood ran cold as she felt the shift in the air, the unmistakable sensation of magic far darker than she had ever felt threading through the wind. Shadows stretched and twisted, and from the edges of the forest, she saw them—impossibly tall glittering armor, cold eyes, and weapons that gleamed like silver under the fractured moonlight.

They carried a dark banner with a sun, a sword pierced the sun through the centre and dropped budded at the bottom. She could smell it. The stench of death, like copper on her tongue.

The Unseelie King had arrived.

She'd heard the stories her entire life, of course—whispers in the dark about the fae who ruled from beyond the wilds, that stalked the night their immortal courts kept hidden from mortal sight. They were monstrous, beautiful bodies that encapsulated a terror within. Beasts that were revealed in the corner of your eye, beings that left nothing but destruction and sucked the life out from you. But the tales never mentioned that the fae would come for the shards. They never mentioned him.

A rider emerged at the forefront of the horde, his presence more terrifying than any nightmare. His face was obscured by a dark helm, but his eyes—glowing like embers from a dying fire—were fixed on her.

Aveline's heart seized as the fate threads shifted once more, revealing a single thread—a thin, brittle line that stretched from her and wound itself tightly around the figure on horseback. In all her life she had never seen her own threads. And before her own eyes she watched as that sheer golden line weaved between the air, tugging her forward.

She pulled back.

Her hand flew to her chest, panic rising as she tried to understand what it meant. She had never been tied to another person's fate. The threads of others passed her by, but never connected to her. Not like this. They had always brushed against her and formed when she wanted them.

And now, one of the fae—this fae—was bound to her in a way that she couldn't comprehend.

Her mother screamed her name, dragging her back from the precipice of panic, her eyes spoke words she could not bare to hear. 

But Aveline's gaze remained locked on the rider. The Fae King raised his hand, and as he did, the ground beneath her feet trembled. His army moved with unnatural speed, sweeping through her village, cutting down anything in their path. Her people's cries of terror were drowned out by the sound of steel and flame.

The king's gaze never wavered, and Aveline knew with a sickening certainty that this was only the beginning.

The moon had cracked, and with it, the world had begun to break. And somehow, the threads of fate were dragging her right into the center of the storm.

As her village burned, the Fae King spoke, his voice cold as the wind that swept across the wildlands.

"Find her," he commanded. "The girl who sees fate."

And Aveline ran, knowing in her heart that fate was already closing in around her.

AN: Please like, comment and share
Lauren
xx