th, and the faint metallic tang of blood-both old and new. The halls, once a place of reverence and power, now felt like a prison, their shadows stretching long and ominous under the flickering

move watched by Dorian's loyalists. She wore the mask of compliance, her face a blank slate, her eyes betraying nothing of the storm raging within her. But by night

hispers were l

ed tapestries and dusty relics of a bygone era. A single slip of parchment, sealed with a blood-red insignia, had been discreetly slipped under her door in

orch, Evelyne broke the seal with trembling fing

amiliar crest. Seek him in the ar

gned, its author a mystery, but the implications were clear. Someone within Dorian's inner cir

rk forces-the Noctis Fangs. These shadow-born entities, said to wield unnatural magic, were the source of his power, the key to his dominance. And now it appeared that even within hi

rian's inner circle, then the conspiracy ran deeper than she had imagined. And if she coul

vast repository of forbidden lore and historical records. The journey was fraught with danger, every corner a potential ambush, every s

on. The insignia on the note matched a faded crest carved into the wood-a wolf's head encircle

ir spines cracked and faded with age. The air was thick with the scent of mildew and decay, the weight of centuries pressing down

worn and cracked; its pages yellowed with age. She opened it carefully, her fingers trembling as she fli

n her throat as she read the entries, her heart pounding in her chest. The "mark" was a sigil, a cursed symbol that had been

amiliar, his ambition and discontent long whispered about in the court. According to the ledger, Marcellus had been meeting with Dorian's

ng. But before she could delve deeper, the sound of footsteps echoed in the corridor outside. Evelyne froze, her heart pounding in

d inside. Their voices were low, their words barely a

said, his voice a low murmur. "Dorian's grip is

s tone grim. "But the rewards are worth the risk. We

ith possibilities. The conspirators were closer than she had thought, th

was sure they were gone before emerging from her hiding place. Her heart was still pounding, her mind a whirl

e journey was tense, every shadow a potential threat, every sound a potential alarm. But sh

a treasure trove of information, but it was also a dangerous weapon. If Dorian discovered that she, had it, her life wo

treachery that surrounded her. He had offered her an alliance, a chance to reclaim her birthright a

rife even within Dorian's inner circle, who could she truly trust? Only Kieran's unwavering, enigma

uld use every scrap of information to dismantle Dorian's web of deceit. But she would do so carefu

rators were planning. The night stretched on, the hours slipping away as she delved deeper into the secrets of the court. And as the first light of

y word measured. She played the part of the reluctant noble, her face a mask of compliance, her eyes betraying nothing of the storm raging

his distance since their alliance had been forged, his presence a silent reminder of the pact they had made. But as the days tu

d her in the gardens. The air was thick with the scent of blooming flowers, the sound of distant laughter drifting o

id, his voice low and smooth as he ap

of the court," she replied, her tone neutral. "It's a dangerous game

e overwhelming. "We're in this together, Evelyne," he sa

l she saw was sincerity, a determination that mirrored her own. And in that moment, she realized that she h

dded. "Together," she echoed,

e ignite within her. The road ahead would be long and fraught with danger, but for the first time

anged. The hunt was on. And Ev