---
The night air was heavy with mist as the Blackthorne limousine sped down the winding country road. Eleanor sat beside Alexander, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, the mysterious black envelope burning a hole in her mind.
Neither of them spoke.
There were no words heavy enough for the storm about to break.
The hidden estate lay beyond the Blackthorne borders—an ancient property, supposedly abandoned for decades. But as they approached, Eleanor could see flickers of light through the trees. Candles, torches... a gathering.
The driver stopped at the iron gates, already swung open as if expected.
Alexander stepped out first, his body taut with tension. Eleanor followed, her heart pounding so loudly it drowned out the world around her.
Ahead, at the top of the stone steps, stood a woman.
Tall.
Poised.
A ghost from a past they thought was buried.
Luciana Blackthorne.
Alive.
And smiling.
---
Ghosts Don't Bleed
Eleanor's breath caught.
Luciana hadn't aged as much as Eleanor expected. Her hair was a silvered black, her posture regal, and her dark eyes gleamed with a dangerous intelligence that sent a chill racing down Eleanor's spine.
Alexander froze beside her.
"Mother," he said, voice hoarse.
Luciana's smile widened, sharp as a dagger. "My beautiful boy. You've grown... imperfectly, but impressively."
Eleanor instinctively moved closer to Alexander, but Luciana's gaze pinned her in place.
"And the girl who dares to stand beside him," Luciana murmured. "Eleanor Windsor. Or should I say... the girl who would be queen?"
Eleanor lifted her chin. "I stand with Alexander. Not above him."
Luciana laughed, the sound low and mocking. "Such loyalty. It's almost quaint."
Alexander stepped forward, fury in every line of his body. "Why are you here?"
Luciana tilted her head. "To reclaim what was stolen from me. And to see if my son is still worthy of carrying my name."
Eleanor's fingers brushed Alexander's hand, grounding him. He didn't flinch this time. He needed her.
Luciana turned, her black gown flowing like shadows around her. "Come. There is much you don't know, and little time left to decide where your loyalties lie."
---
The Test of Blood
Inside the grand, decaying estate, the room was set like a throne hall.
At the center, a heavy wooden table. Upon it—papers, sealed envelopes, a small, ornate dagger.
Luciana circled the table like a predator.
"Power," she began, "is not inherited through mere titles. It is earned, proven... and sometimes, taken by force."
She gestured to the dagger. "Tonight, you will choose, Alexander. You will either prove you are worthy of the Blackthorne name—or you will step aside."
Alexander's jaw clenched. "You expect me to stab someone to prove myself?"
Luciana chuckled. "Nothing so crude. Just a simple blood pact. Blackthorne blood... or Blackthorne ruin."
Eleanor frowned. "A blood pact?"
Luciana's eyes gleamed. "One drop. Just one. To bind you to your destiny. Refuse... and the evidence I have—proof of your illegitimacy—will be released to the world."
Eleanor's heart stuttered.
It was blackmail.
Elegant. Perfect. Ruthless.
Exactly what she should have expected from a woman like Luciana.
Alexander stared at the dagger, his body rigid.
Eleanor could see it—the hesitation. The rage. The fear.
And she understood in that moment: this was not about blood.
This was about control.
Luciana didn't want to prove Alexander's lineage.
She wanted to own him.
Chain him.
Eleanor stepped forward before she could think.
"No."
The room froze.
Luciana's brows lifted. "Excuse me?"
Eleanor met her gaze, steady and fierce. "He doesn't have to prove anything to you. Or to anyone. He is a Blackthorne—because he built this family with his own hands, not because of some drop of blood you deem worthy."
Alexander turned toward her, something raw and unspoken flashing across his face.
Luciana's smile faded, replaced by something colder.
"You dare defy me?"
"I dare," Eleanor said, her voice clear. "Because unlike you, I don't need a knife to know who he is."
For a long, terrible moment, the world seemed to hold its breath.
Then Luciana laughed. Slow. Dangerous. Icy.
"You've made your choice, darling," she said softly.
And Eleanor knew—
The real battle had just begun.
---
A War in the Shadows
As they left the estate, Alexander gripped Eleanor's hand so tightly it hurt, but she didn't pull away.
The mist seemed to close in around them, suffocating.
"You didn't have to do that," Alexander said roughly as they reached the car.
"I did," Eleanor whispered. "Because I won't let her take you. Not now. Not ever."
For a moment, he just stared at her, as if seeing her for the first time.
Then he kissed her—desperate, fierce, like a man who had just found the only thing worth fighting for.
Above them, in the shrouded estate, Luciana watched from a broken window.
Her smile returned.
Because pawns had moved.
But the queen had only begun to play.
And her next move would be lethal.
---
Next Chapter: Bloodlines and Betrayals
Secrets aren't the only weapons Luciana wields. As Eleanor and Alexander struggle to hold their fragile alliance together, old enemies and new threats emerge—and a shocking betrayal from within forces Eleanor to risk everything.
Because sometimes, love isn't enough to survive a war.