"it's a tragedy, the way he loved her." 

A week later.
Iftia: Nvre Palace, Study

• Naailah •

"Matthias?"

Naailah entered the study and found Matthias sitting at the corner with his knees tucked close to his chest. Since his return from West Iftia, he hadn't been acting like himself. She began to worry more after the night Lyx was attacked because Ray wrote to her, telling her that the Queen had visited Matthias.

A wave of ugly anger surged within her when Ray added that Matthias was left lying on the ground, semi-conscious and bleeding from his nose and lips. Even when she knew that Silvestra was up to no good, she couldn't believe that Matthias would be left all alone in that state.

Deep down, Naailah was also frustrated at Matthias. Before he left for Elgens, she saw him in her foretell, in the manner that Ray had mentioned in his letter to her. That was why she feared and insisted that he should stay in Nvre. Even when she was born an oracle, she couldn't play against fate. By asking him to stay, she was already trying to overwrite his fate and she would rather pay the price of her gift if it meant that she could keep him safe. Yet, he still left.

The silver pocket watch was a memento left by her mother, who passed shortly after her difficult labour. Fariah told her that among all the wives, Father loved Mother the most and when she drew her last breath, he grieved for a long time. Naailah was the only child left behind by her mother and because of that, Father doted on her differently with great care and tenderness. He also felt apologetic to her because she was forced to be raised in solitude within the walls of the Temple and away from everyone since birth.

On her ninth birthday, Father warded the memento, saying that it could help her when danger knocked on her door. The memento was her treasure but without hesitation, she handed this keepsake to Matthias, hoping that it could help him. However, it all still happened in the manner that was supposed to and she only knew that this was fate's way of warning her to stay in her line.

"Matthias," she called out to him softly.

He turned, looking towards her in an unfamiliar manner. It was as though he didn't recognise her because she couldn't feel any warmth and adoration within the hazel of his eyes. The shade of green was duller and colder, much like the wintry winds that howled with relentless strength outside. Matthias only held his gaze at her briefly before he jerked his head to the side and acknowledge her presence in a low voice, "Naailah."

His indifference towards her felt like a sharp pierce through her heart, and she nearly choked on her breath when emotions lodged in her throat. Her fingers sunk into the thick fabric of her dress and she fisted onto the material tightly. She swallowed hard and spoke only when she was sure that her voice wouldn't crack under the surging pressure of her sadness, "Are you alright?"

"Yes, I am," he replied coldly, awkwardness apparent in his voice. "I just want to be left alone."

"Matthias," she called him in an almost pleading voice. "I'm always here for you. Please know that you can come to me if something's troubling you."

"Thank you," he responded quite dismissively, raising his hand to rub on the nape of his neck as he looked exceptionally uncomfortable that she was in his presence.

"That's all I have to say. I'll leave you to be now." Her voice trembled slightly as she turned around and left the study. The moment the doors of the study closed behind her, she raised her hand to hastily wipe away the tears that rolled down without her knowledge. She stood in the middle of the vast, empty hallway, too lost to comprehend what truly happened that caused her to lose Matthias, to lose her everything.

※

• Matthias/Lyra •

Lyra stared painstakingly as the doors closed on her and left her all alone in this empty study. She curled up tighter and leaned against the coldness of the window glass, hoping for this nightmare to end.

After the Queen's visit, Matthias' consciousness sank into the dark depths and she was forced into control of his body. Everything felt so foreign to her. Lyra had long forgotten how being alive and having a physical presence felt like. Whenever Naailah visited, she wanted to spill everything to her and ask for help but she couldn't explain the truth because Matthias made it a point to keep their conflicting identities a secret.

Helpless, she could only distance herself away from everyone until Matthias regained conscious. At this point, Lyra felt like a girl who's trapped in the body of a man. It didn't felt right, rather it was nauseating.

Burying her head against her knees, Lyra sobbed.

Matty, I'm really scared and I don't belong here. Would you please wake up soon?

━━━━━━━━━━

Iftia: Besilsk Palace, Kynthia's Bedchamber

• Queen of Lycans, Kynthia •

"Lady Kynthia," Zoie, her beta, greeted as she entered the bedchamber.

Kynthia sat up and got off the bed, leaving her boy toy naked in her bed. Honestly, she couldn't be more glad for Zoie's presence, she was growing bored with the sex. Grabbing the silk robe from the ground, she slid it on and picked her long smoking pipe from the nightstand beside the enormous bed.

Both of them walked towards the balcony and she took a drag, exhaling a cloud of smoke that mixed with the misty plumes from her breath. Directing her attention to her beta, she requested, "Speak."

"It's from the seer," Zoie reported accordingly. "Izekiel left Mt. Lusian."

"Good," Kynthia said simply. "You may leave and take the boy with you. I'm done with him."

"As you wish," Zoie lowered her head respectfully in a nod and left the balcony.

Kynthia hadn't chosen to return to the warmth of her bedchamber. Instead, she stood in the cold, staring right into the endless expanse of the snow-filled land. Staring right into the darkness of the sky above, an old memory flashed across her mind — the memory of the only thing she loved and hated.

※

A hundred years ago
Thethia: Mt. Lusian

• Kynthia •

"Kynthia." His low whisper echoed tenderly in her ears, rippling with tingling sensation throughout her body as he wrapped his arms around her waist and planted a soft kiss against her hairline.

She laid bare in bed with a forbidden man — an affair that she should never be found in. Destined to be a strong heiress to her kind, she was matched with a deserving mate who would ascent as her equal to rule over her empire of wolves. Yet, here she was, rendezvoused with her interdicted love. If anything, this unparagoned pairing was doomed to be thwarted from the very beginning.

This was the night before her coronation and she initially promised herself that she would put a closure to this. It was for both of their sake. Izekiel was also the proud heir to his kind who should never be discovered engaging in a sordid affair with their rival kind. She arrived at their promised place with a firm determination to end it all with him.

Yet, her determination shattered the moment he landed soft touches against her skin and lured her into the comfort of his warmth. She was truly a moth to his flame.

But Izekiel wasn't the gentle flicker of candlelight, he was the blazing inferno that burned her into the depthless abyss of hell.

That night, she tenderly traced over each ridge of his body with her claws. That night, he relentlessly pierced his sword into the very heart that beat for him.

A mouthful of blood, the pain of betrayal and the death of love.

"Izekiel, why...?" she exhaled excruciatingly.

He remained silent and she couldn't see his expression through her blurred vision. She couldn't understand but foolishly gripped onto the possibility that if he had given her a reason, she may have forgiven him.

Except that he didn't.

She woke up thirty years later only to find the curse he left on her body — an ugly scar on her chest to remind her of a humiliating love that she once believed to be her everything. She was supposed to die that night. Unfortunately, Izekiel didn't make sure to severe her life the way he was supposed to. He gave her a chance to defy her way out of the gates of hell and crawl out of her grave.

The proud heiress wasn't going to let this opportunity slip. If he had stupidly decided to keep her alive, it's only right to make that darned cat regret his carelessness with every ounce of his being.

※

Turning back into her bedchamber, Kynthia went straight into the dressing room and stood before the large mirror of the vanity. She loosened the waist tie of her silk robe as the dark material slid past her shoulder to reveal every inch of her pale skin underneath. Her eyes went right to the long scar on her chest. Hatred burned and scorched her inside, and she needed a reason.

A reason to destroy him and steal the last of his breath.

She swore that this time, she would let go of this cursed love. At his funeral, she would bury her love with him and this hateful, fragile feeling of hers would cease to exist with him.

She would let it torment him for the rest of his afterlife, in the same manner how the shadows of his love haunted her alive for all the years she spent awake on this surface.

※

here comes another tragic love story.
(who's love story is your favourite at the moment?)

please vote and comment if you're enjoying the read!