ততততত

𝐓 𝐎 𝐁 𝐈 𝐍

My meticulous plans have all brought me to this—this moment where triumph rules or destruction obliterates. Yet, Imogen doesn't know a damn thing about what blood will be shed tonight. All she knows is that tonight is the last night for us. In two days, she will be married to Leighton, and to avoid the increased security measures and influx of guards, we agreed this will be the final nightfall.

It was the safer option for her, so I let her believe that I would go.

On our final nightfall, we both wanted to do nothing more than be next to each other. Entwined. Vowing oaths of love with every kiss of our lips. We're trying to let go and unravel from one another, but every breath seems to tie the knot of limbs stronger until we're one. She begs me to stay, and I beg her to fight, and we're caught up in this cycle of promises that we know we can't keep.

The love that buzzes between us comes to an end when Imogen descends into her slumber. She's been so exhausted lately, burdened under the pressures of this fucking wedding. She's had to wear the weight of the betrothal for four months now, and she's going to need all the rest for what she's about to endure.

Unless I can put an end to it.

I'm doing this alone, without no one to save me if it all goes awry.

Am I an idiot? Yes, I believe so, but this seems to be the only chance of sparing Imogen from binding herself to Leighton for the rest of her life. He will crush her heart until there's nothing left to salvage, and that light I love, my fiery weapon, will turn to ashes.

I press my lips to her neck, kisses filled with a promise that I will start a war in order to spare her. My moonbeam has a world waiting for her, and I long to be the one to bring her to our safe haven's doorstep.

Imogen hums as I kiss her, stirring from her slumber for just a second. Those grey moons flutter open, meeting the brown golden hues of mine. She reaches up, clutching that pendant she gave to me that very first nightfall. Delicate fingers feather against the cold carving etched into the crescent moon.

"I should've seen it coming," she whispers, her eyes already heavy with fatigue. She runs a hand through the slight waves of my tousled chestnut hair. "A petty predictable thief stealing the heart of the princess for his own. As long as you keep mine close to yours, we'll beat forever."

I meet her lips, parting hers so I can taste my sweet, sweet moonbeam. I love her. I'm so madly in love with her that it's poisoned me. She will lead me head first into destruction.

"Always," I breathe, then whisper a soundless 'I love you' against her, a confession she drowns herself in.

Amidst our deepening kisses, her touch falls limp, and her head tilts away as she unknowingly falls back into her dreams. In the stray beam of moonlight, she nearly glows with her ethereal beauty. Her blonde hair strews across the pillow, and I run my fingers through it fearing that it might be the last time.

But I have to act now.

Our tired kisses will be the last we will remember of this final night.

I linger for just a moment longer to make sure Imogen is fast asleep before pulling a sheet over her bare body. In these past few days, I've memorized the route to the guest wing. I know every corridor that leads me straight to that asshole's room, and I know every exit when I need to make a run for it to save myself. Tonight, I will have blood on my hands. I will show Leighton I am not the same cowardly warrior he saw me as long ago.

All of this will be done to spare Imogen. I'll deal with the wreckage of my actions after she's freed. Aspen warned me before I left to make sure I have all my alliances intact, but there's no hope that I even have one. Everyone I love is trapped by that man. Imogen. Aspen. Let alone the entire fucking kingdom.

I redress myself and take one last look at Imogen. She thinks I'm running back to the homestead to reunite with Neph, probably to numb the pain by burying my sorrows in bottles of alcohol, but that's not what petty thieves do.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, hoping that maybe she'd wake up and drag me back to bed, but the hoods of death linger in this castle. I will reap the life of Leighton without mercy, without hesitation.

With a hand on my sheathed sword, I begin my descent into the darkness of the castle corridors. The hidden passageways remain unlit, but I'm not sure a light would even help. Hell has never looked so desolate yet welcoming. Was this how my father felt the night he decided to kill the king? It feels as if a wretched snake slithered its way beneath my skin, gnawing away at the soft atriums of my heart. I am not a killer, but I am a warrior if it means saving those I love.

I come face-to-face with the door that opens straight into Leighton's chamber. At this forsaken hour, he must be alone. Fast asleep. Dreaming of what next atrocity he will commit against his people. I will be the one who assures the devil never sees daybreak again.

This night will be his last.

I push the entryway open, sliding aside the bookcase it hides behind. The room remains dark, and the once clear night seems to be shifting into a black storm. Wind rustles against the expansive glass windows, shaking the room as a draft wafts through. The slight breeze guides me over to the large bed. Navy quilts spread across the crisp mattress—neat quilts, not disturbed by a sleeping body.

I clench my teeth.

Leighton's not asleep.

He should be here, sleeping like the fucking rock I know he is. For the past few nights, I've scouted this room. Through the cracks in the walls, I could overhear his horrendous snores echoing off the cathedral ceilings, but the stillness of the space sends me on edge. I know I'm not alone. I know he's here.

I spin on my heels, pulling my sword from its scabbard as it clashes against another metal blade, reflecting off the tundra of his icy eyes.

Leighton.

"It's been awhile, hasn't it, Tobin Parias?" he speaks, his voice smooth like melted butter.

He stands in night robes, his hair pulled back in an entangled wiry mess. He's a towering weapon ready to deal out cards of damage, a brute with arms of steel and a body of boulders. In his hands, he holds his own weapon, a sword smithed from the ancient forges within the Adoridian castle.

"Were you expecting me?" I grit, fending off the power of his blade.

"You?" he chuckles. "I should have known you would return to me soon, trying to pull some ridiculous stunt like this. Have you forgotten who is in charge of your sister?"

The mere mention of Aspen boils my blood into a full-scale inferno. Aspen endured hell under his authority, and she's willing to go back to it in order for me to save Imogen.

"Ever since I received word that you fled just months ago, I took Aspen back under my wing," he continues, knowing that acknowledging Aspen irks me. "She's waiting for me to return to Adorid. She looks just like your mother, doesn't she?"

I swing my sword back at him, only to have the blades clash again. Leighton stumbles backward, his eyes widening as if not to expect my nimble strike. He must think my skills are rusty due to my lack of proper training, but I didn't spend hours upon hours sparring at the homestead to lose battles.

"This isn't just about Aspen," I hiss.

"Oh? Is it about your father, then?" he rouses. "Let me indulge you in the details of his death, shall I?"

My heart stings inside of my chest. I never knew what happened after I fled the castle for Lagulon. Instead of snapping back, I find myself holding my tongue as I take another swing of my sword. Once again, our two bodies canter backward so I have the advantage.

"Berin Parias was held in such high regard with my father, but he's was only a puppet for his bidding," Leighton speaks without a care in the world, as if I'm not attempting to slit his throat. "Believe me, I saw your father as quite the noble man, but when I took the throne, I had no use for him. But you? The potential for you was endless, and Berin knew that."

"Fuck you," I attempt to swing again. Blades slice the air around us until the devilish king is cornered by my weapon, but that doesn't cease his words.

"I proposed a deal to Berin just as your skills began to progress. I wanted you to train closely to me, to learn what it means to govern a kingdom, but the older you grew... the weaker your soul became. You were destined to be like your father: a lifeless puppet."

"You have no idea what my father was like," I grit.

"He was a failure, Tobin. He thought he had the upper hand, but my men know when to alarm me when someone steps out of line. Your father... he was a threat to me, and when I received word that he would plan to assassinate me upon his return," he laughs, "I knew that it was time to eradicate the bloodline that wanted me dead."

Leighton's icy eyes spark with a blue flame, a darkness expanding within his pupils that mimics the oil in his bloodstream. He saw my father as vermin, but my father was supposed to be the saviour the people of Adorid wished for.

"Berin came into my bedroom, just like you did now. Sword in hand. His eyes filled with sin. All I gave was one command to the guards that let your father into my room: kill him. Berin fled, but never made it farther than the west wing of the courtyard."

The west wing. That's where I was on post that night. That's where he told me to run.

"I drove the sword into his chest myself," Leighton smirks as he speaks. "Blood spilt onto the soil, and I can still smell that sweet metallic scent as his heart quit beating. I carved his chest open and took it upon myself to keep his heart as a trophy. The people know never to go against the decree of the king."

But those people drown themselves in pools of fear, scared that every morning will be their last. I am the son of Berin Parias, the son of the man who vowed to protect his family and those he loved. He was a man dedicated to his people, to the kingdom that became his home for years before the darkness of Leighton's reign began.

I swing my blade, ushering him deeper into the corner. With clenched teeth, I swing harder, faster, pivoting around the large bedroom to avoid Leighton's slower, sluggish blows.

"You'll fail, Tobin," Leighton seethes. "Just like your father."

With those words, our iron weapons clash, but his flies from his grasp and clammers onto the wooden floor beneath our boots. Leighton knocks himself off balance. A large thud silences the battle within his room as the bastard of a king gazes up at me, icy eyes calmer than the Great Blue ocean.

He holds no fear, no remorse. He's an empty shell with nothing inside of him. How can I kill a man who doesn't have a heart? A man who's already a corpse without a soul?

"This is for my family," I spit out, the great Parias fury burning inside my chest. "For my father. My mother. Aspen..."

Leighton's grin curls wider.

"This is for the princess." My Imogen. My beloved moonbeam who I kissed until she fell asleep in my arms. She brought me into a whole new world without even knowing it. All it took was one shot of her arrow, and I fell under her tender spell. "You scarred her, and now you expect her to go along with this willingly? She's nothing you're ever going to expect. She's—"

"My wife," Leighton spits. "I will be Imogen's husband."

I physically wince, nearly plunging the sword into his chest, but I don't. I hesitate.

"You don't like how that sounds, do you?" Leighton coaxes, before letting out a boisterous laugh. "Don't tell me you've been fucking around with my wife now, have you?"

Kill him now.

"Oh gods, I never expected this turn of events," he continues. "You? And Imogen? In love?"

Kill him.

The sword shakes within my palms as my vision blisters with hues of crimson red. The anger consumes me, a hurricane brewing under my skin to seek out the revenge my father failed to give.

Yet, Leighton cowers beneath me. He still breathes. He still lives.

"I can't wait to get my hands on your little princess."

KILL HIM.

But...

I can't.

My soft heart won't let my hands move, because I am not a killer. I have no blood on my hands.

Leighton catches my hesitation, and he knows. He knows of the weakness that holds me back, and in that moment of hesitancy...

"FUCK—"

A knife drives deep into my thigh, and I drop my sword as the intruding pain. It falls from my fingertips, hitting the ground with an echoing crashhh. I'm knocked off my balance by another force, another being. My hand reaches for the knife dug deep into my leg, only to have another pair of hands force me down to the ground.

"Forgive me," a male's voice whispers. I look up, catching the blue hues and charcoal hair that belong to Gareth.

I look up, meeting the eyes of Leighton as he stands back up to his feet, satisfied with my demise. He grins with vindication as he gazes over to Gareth. This is what Leighton wanted me to become: his second-in-command, his pathetic killer. My blood stains Gareth's hands, my blood that will soon drain from my body when he removes the knife from my flesh.

Behind Gareth stands Brock, hat scar upon his face shadowing any hint of emotion in his eyes. By now, the bedroom door has been swung open wide to alert the castle guards of the trespasser that attempted to end the life of the king of Adorid.

And I failed.

My mediocre planning and foolish mind blinded by my raging heart have led to this downfall.

Leighton crosses his burly arms behind his back as he approaches Brock. "Notify Orion about this little rodent that attempted to kill me."

I reach for my sword, only to have Gareth knock it far from my grasp. This can't be the end. I should've drove my sword into Leighton's chest, but I couldn't. I couldn't fucking do it.

I failed.

I failed my father.

I failed Aspen.

I failed Imogen.

"No," I wince, tears striking my eyes, because when morning comes, I know the light that always burned within this castle will be dimmed. My moonbeam will no longer glow.

I'm descending into a suffocating darkness without any hope of being saved.

Because who would want to spare a failure?

── •✧• ──

Yep. You should all be scared. Things are going to get real messy in these next few chapters (if you couldn't tell). We got a Tobin who's stabbed in the leg and probably on his way to the dungeons, and we got an Imogen who thinks Tobin is safely at the homestead with his horse. Oh, and she's getting married very soon. Time to unleash hell, I guess.

Also, thank you all for reading this book! It's coming to a close very soon (there's still a handful of chapters left,) but I predict that the conclusion will come in the next month or so! Also, just a friendly reminder that this is the first draft of the book.

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