SIGRID"I’m doing the same thing you wanted to do to her, little sister. Electra is locked up in here." I pointed to my chest theatrically.Around us, the fire devoured everything in its path, the scorching heat making steam escape from our mouths as it illuminated our confrontation."What a pain to see how your favorite sister wanted to cut off your head.""I knew it! I knew Electra could never betray me!" she shouted, no longer looking as high and mighty."I should have suspected you were working for that damn Queen! But I know the Queen and the Princess… which Selenia are you? Don’t tell me…! Don’t tell me you’re Juno?!" She took a step back, clearly alarmed."You weren’t supposed to interfere in the Realm’s decisions anymore, you were supposed to go die in peace, you old hag!"Well, well, it seemed the first Selenia was still alive. What a revelation.Of course, I remembered she had supposedly been the first chosen to seal Umbros’ prison, so it made sense.Juno, the current Queen,

NARRATORSigrid pulled away from her possessive torment—they would talk later—but the waves of malice radiating from Morgana were impossible to ignore."Silas, let’s not forget we have an audience. How embarrassing," she said, turning toward Morgana with a crooked smile.Morgana trembled for a moment, the memory of this woman’s agonizing attacks still fresh in her mind. Hope was slipping further and further away."Alright, let’s end this.""Wait! Wait! I can offer you something in return! Just let me live! I’ll leave with my children, I swear by the Goddess! The entire estate will be yours! You’ll never see me again!" she suddenly screamed, dignity already discarded at her feet."Are you talking about The Book of Risorgimento?" Sigrid asked mockingly, watching Morgana’s face contort.Did she really think she had kept it a secret?"I can give it to you…""My lady doesn’t need anything from you. Whatever is in this mansion already belongs to her. May I kill her now?" Silas turned to Sig

SIGRIDI didn’t know what to say or do. A silent tear slipped from the corner of my eye as I stared up at the sky.How did I not see it before?Now, it felt so obvious.The man who spoke so warmly behind me, who held me and whispered words of love in my ear—my mate—was the very man the world called a villain.The most feared, the most ruthless and bloodthirsty.It was incredible how history could be twisted by its victors."…But you can keep calling me Silas. Honestly, Umbros doesn’t feel familiar to me anymore. I don’t like it…""Don’t say it!" I turned suddenly, pressing my hands over his mouth. "Your name is Silas. You are my Silas. That name… don’t say it ever again!"I shouted, trying not to break, as if merely avoiding the word could erase his fate—the destruction he was meant to bring."Sigrid, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?"He gently pulled my hand away from his lips, his face etched with deep concern. His fingers brushed my tears away, but they wouldn’t stop falling.I wa

SIGRIDA low moan slipped from my slightly parted lips, heat burning through me.Something unbearably pleasurable disrupts my sleep, a wet, delicious sensation licking between the petals of my intimacy.“Mmmm,” I writhe in the limbo between dreams and reality. It feels so good. Mmm, I want more.I moan against a soft surface, my hands clutching at something plush beneath me. My legs spread, my ass tilts up.I let rough hands grope and caress me, play with my clit, devour my wetness, drag me into sheer lust.“Silas,” I murmur, calling his name.A weight presses over me, my body held down, legs spread, hard muscles like steel pinning me in place, leaving me no choice but to wait and take it.“Aaahh,” my eyes flutter open to reality, my mouth unable to stop moaning.In my ear, I feel his restrained growl, his ragged breaths as he thrusts into me.Something hard and pulsing, a scorching-hot shaft pushing through my folds, the mushroomed tip piercing and stretching me open bit by bit.He s

SIGRIDThe narrow black iron bed, wooden walls, the ceiling with slightly neglected beams, the old armchair by the window, and a few wooden trunks in the corner.Everything looks worn down, broken—but not dirty, not unpleasant.“I remembered my parents' cabin. Last night, I brought you here. It's a place I've always wanted to return to,” he confessed, and my heart squeezed at his words.He hasn’t outright said it, but I think his parents are dead. Maybe they died trying to save him when he was taken. Maybe they couldn’t bear the pain of losing him. I don’t know, and I don’t want to rip open those wounds.“Did you spend the whole night cleaning? If it was abandoned, where the hell did you get these sheets?” I frowned, suddenly realizing something obvious.“Well… no one was here. I— I didn’t even think about it. I just needed to rest with you. My mind was… troubled,” he admitted, sitting up, his gaze sweeping over the details of the room.“Silas, how could you think nothing would change