Original
Artwork

Morgana the Enchantress

The crown on her head shines brighter than any glittering star. Her long golden hair dance whenever she moves. There is an air of mystique around the woman in her dazzling red dress.
“Rise,” Eirik Bloodhound says to his subjects.
The Fae King seems to be unable to take his eyes from the lady at the door. The creatures in the hall crane their neck to look at the new guest. Even my elven friends are curious.
I have the best spot to view the newcomer. There are no weird ears, wings, or horns on her. The beautiful lady seems like a normal human to me.
Abeloth, Armand and Kheirall return to their respective thrones. The utter fear on the Demon Lord’s face when he sees the lady at the door makes me question if she really is human.
“Darling, I travelled all the way to see your son wed,” the woman says to the Fae King. The room stirs at her delicate voice. Each note is laden with pure seduction.
“You’re late. As always,” the king says. For the first time, Eirik Bloodhound truly smiles, showing a gleam of his white teeth.

“All this incessant nagging just because I keep myself a healthy diet of human. Fine, I’ll stop then.”
Morgana the Enchantress

Hunter and Melissa

A figure rest on the windowsill.
His long black hair dances with the night wind. The ethereal light from the moon guides me to have a better look at his face. It has the innocence of a child but with the chiseled features of a man. There is an exotic element to his appearance, the way he is dressed in that immaculate obsidian ceremonial suit. He looks almost like a painting, so inhumanely beautiful. 

Art by Christina Dumitru

“I am sure you’re glad that I am finally out of your hair,” I tell Hunter, without sparing him a second glance. “Goodbye, Svikari Asinis.”
Melissa Parker

Diana and Amaris

“You don’t want to do this,” I wince from the pain. Amaris’s hand feels like a brand on my arm. It’s hurting me too much. I press Torren’s dagger to his throat instinctively.

“What are you going to do with that silly knife?” He raises his eyebrows. Amaris jerks my hand to draw me closer.

“I am not afraid of you, Amaris.” I smile with a shaky breath.

“Well, you should be.” He gives me a cruel laughter that is so unlike the Amaris I know. Flame crackles in those violet eyes. The same fire I saw in Torren during his bloodlust in Reírse.

Being with Amaris has always made me feel like dancing on the edge of a sword. It doesn’t matter. I’ve always loved dancing.
Diana Parker