After fighting against a harsh childhood, Blake Wilson finally believes her life is normal. She seems happy living with her brother and foster parents. Blake hides her true feelings behind a mask of indifference, making it impossible for anyone to k...
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Darkness crept up the dusty, jagged edges of the stone walls. The crackling of embers filled the silence as flames danced joyously together, lighting up the vast throne room. The bright flames licked up the floor, creating a path leading to the throne. On the throne sat a creature, who held a sinister glint in his golden eyes. They were deceiving, appearing to be malicious on the outside, blocking out a much deeper emotion within. On the outside he seemed profoundly malevolent, but on the inside he was broken. No one had the ability to tell what he truly felt.
He had everything: power, immortality, a castle, and a throne. What more could he possibly want?
The Demon King always felt like there was a part of him missing, like a part of his soul. He felt empty, completely numb, but he couldn't figure out what was causing him to feel like this. He was never good with emotions, especially since he and his demons were known to torture humans by messing with their heads, making them see things that weren't real. His confused emotions caused him to be more irritable, snapping at anyone who dared to question his authority. He wasn't human, he shouldn't be feeling such human emotions.
A knock on the colossal stone doors at the other end of the room jerked him out of his brooding thoughts.
"Come in." His voice was barely audible, a merciful whisper completely contrasting his true nature. However, the being on the other side of the door still heard his command loud and clear. The doors opened and in sashayed a woman. Her pale skin seemed to glow flawlessly against the light of the flaming path and her stark white hair cascaded like gentle waves down her back. The king stiffened, sitting up straighter on his throne as he watched the intruder approach him.
"What business do you have coming here?" He demanded, his golden eyes flaring with anger as he glared down at the woman. If looks could kill, she'd be six feet under. The woman wasn't startled by the sharpness of his voice. In fact, she only raised an eyebrow at his hostility.
"My name is Cyra and I've come to deliver you some crucial news."
The king narrowed his eyes ever-so-slightly.
"How did you get here?" He leaned forward on his throne. "What are you?"
"It doesn't matter what I am, just listen to what I have to say, and you better listen closely."
The king opened his mouth to argue with the strange woman, but a foreign feeling crept over his body, overwhelming his senses. He felt tranquil, less irked.
"What are you doing to me?" He demanded, his harsh glare almost like daggers that could kill the woman with just one glance. When his eyes locked with her dazzling, violet eyes, he immediately knew the answer to his unanswered question.
She was a witch. Witches were known to have the ability to see visions, to be able to make out someone's future just by glancing at them. They had many more talents other than casting spells or chanting curses.
