A Dangerous Masquerade
Seraphine strode confidently through the gates of the Onyx Dusk stronghold, the crescent mark on her cheek glowing faintly. Under the cloak of shadow magic, her presence was nearly identical to Isla’s. Her scent, aura, and even her posture were a perfect mimicry of the Luna. The guards bowed their heads as she passed, murmuring respectful greetings to “Luna Isla.”
The halls of the stronghold were cold and foreboding, lined with relics of ancient power. Seraphine’s sharp eyes caught glimpses of runes and artifacts that pulsed with dark energy. She smirked to herself. Malrik always did have a flair for the dramatic.
When she reached the central chamber, Malrik stood waiting, his lean frame outlined by the flickering light of torches. His gray eyes gleamed as he turned to face her. “You’ve finally decided to see reason,” he said, his tone smooth and predatory. “You look radiant, Isla. Perhaps you’re realizing the wisdom of my vision.”
Seraphine’s lips curved into a calculated smile. “Perhaps I am,” she replied, her voice calm and honeyed. “But if you want me to lead by your side, you’ll have to prove that your vision is worth following.”
Malrik’s expression didn’t falter, but his eyes narrowed slightly. He stepped closer, his movements deliberate. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed a change in you, my Luna,” he murmured, his voice low and probing.
Seraphine fought to keep her composure, her heart pounding as he reached out. His hand brushed against the crescent mark on her cheek, his touch light but unnervingly intimate. “It feels… different,” he mused, his gray eyes locking onto hers.
“It’s your imagination,” Seraphine said smoothly, tilting her head just enough to break the contact. Her tone was playful, teasing. “You’ve been so focused on your plans, Malrik, you’ve forgotten what it feels like to truly connect with someone.”
His lips twitched into a faint smirk, but the suspicion in his eyes lingered. “Perhaps,” he said softly. “Or perhaps you’re hiding something from me.”
Seraphine’s smile didn’t waver, though her pulse raced. “If you doubt me, Malrik, then you’re not as clever as I thought.”
The tension hung thick between them as Malrik studied her, his expression unreadable. Finally, he stepped back, his confidence seemingly restored. “Go back to your chambers, my queen,” he said, his voice smooth once more.
As he left the chamber, Seraphine let out a slow breath, her fingers brushing over the crescent mark on her cheek. The disguise was holding, but the stakes were growing higher with every passing moment. Hold on, Isla, or Draven will really kill me this time, she thought.
