Chapter Six
Blood on the Roses
The morning sun spilled across Silverwood like a lie, gilding the crumbling palace walls in soft gold.
From my window, the world looked peaceful.
Safe.
But peace, I was learning, was just the silence before the slaughter.
Liam had left my chambers before dawn, summoned by urgent council business.
I missed his presence far more than I should have.
His warmth.
His protection.
I dressed quickly, choosing a soft blue gown that brushed my ankles, and braided my hair down my back.
A servant — a nervous young girl named Elin — appeared with a curtsey.
"His Majesty requests your presence in the rose gardens," she said, voice trembling.
The rose gardens.
A place of beauty.
Of thorns.
I smiled and thanked her, swallowing the unease that slithered through me.
It wasn't until I was halfway across the sprawling palace grounds, the heavy scent of roses clinging to the air, that the first real warning stirred in my chest.
The gardens were too quiet.
No birdsong.
No laughter from the servants tending the hedges.
Just… silence.
Heavy, waiting.
I hesitated at the edge of the stone path, the hair on the back of my neck prickling.
Something was wrong.
Go back, a voice inside me whispered.
But I shoved the fear down and stepped into the maze of blooming roses, their lush petals brushing against my skirts.
It happened so fast.
A blur of movement to my left—
The hiss of a blade cutting the air—
And then a figure lunged from the shadows, dagger flashing toward my throat.
I gasped and stumbled backward, the blade slicing a shallow line across my shoulder instead of finding its mark.
Pain flared, hot and sharp.
Before I could scream, another figure emerged—a second attacker, hooded and swift, aiming for my heart.
Instinct, raw and primal, surged up inside me.
I ducked, the second blade whistling past my ear.
I turned and ran, heart hammering in my chest, feet pounding the stone path.
I didn't know where I was going—only that I had to survive.
Another shout behind me.
Footsteps.
Getting closer.
Tears blurred my vision as I crashed through the rose bushes, thorns tearing at my arms and legs.
The scent of blood—my blood—hung heavy in the air.
I stumbled into a clearing—and found myself cornered.
The stone walls of the palace loomed high around me, no doors, no escape.
The two attackers closed in, knives gleaming.
I pressed back against the wall, breathing hard, mind spinning.
Was this it?
Would I die here, alone and forgotten, in a bed of bloodstained roses?
"No," I whispered fiercely, baring my teeth. "Not like this."
The taller of the two attackers laughed—a cold, humorless sound.
"You should have stayed a rabbit, little girl," he said, voice muffled by his mask.
They moved as one, blades raised—
And then a roar split the sky.
A furious, bone-shaking roar that froze the blood in my veins.
Out of nowhere, Liam was there.
A golden blur of rage and power.
He moved like a storm unleashed, his fists slamming into the first attacker with a sickening crunch of bone.
The man flew backward, crashing through a rose bush with a strangled cry.
The second turned to run—but Liam was faster.
He seized the assassin by the throat, lifting him clean off the ground.
The man choked and kicked, but Liam's grip was merciless.
"You dared," Liam snarled, his voice unrecognizable, a monstrous thing made of grief and rage.
"You dared touch what's mine."
The assassin's dagger clattered to the ground as Liam squeezed.
I staggered forward, blood dripping from my torn shoulder.
"Liam," I croaked. "Don't—"
But it was too late.
With a sickening crack, Liam snapped the man's neck and dropped him like broken kindling.
Silence fell over the garden, thick and absolute.
Liam turned to me, his chest heaving, his hands stained with blood.
His blue eyes—wild, feral—softened the instant they met mine.
He crossed the space between us in three strides, gathering me into his arms.
"You're hurt," he said, his voice rough with guilt.
I clung to him, trembling, breathing in his scent—cedarwood, musk, safety.
"I—I didn't see them," I whispered. "They came from nowhere."
He pressed his forehead to mine, his body trembling with restraint.
"I swear to you, Lola," he said, voice raw. "No one will ever hurt you again. Over my dead body."
Tears burned my eyes.
I should have pushed him away.
Should have hated the violence, the blood on his hands.
But all I could feel was relief.
And something far more dangerous.
Need.
Forbidden, aching need.
He pulled back just enough to cup my face in his bloodied hands.
And then, slowly, as if he couldn't stop himself, he kissed me.
Not like before—not a claiming, not a game.
This kiss was desperate.
A vow.
A promise.
I melted against him, the pain in my shoulder forgotten as his mouth devoured mine, rough and tender all at once.
When he finally pulled away, his voice was a broken whisper.
"You are mine, Lola. Mine."
And for the first time… I didn't want to run from the monster king.
I wanted to stay.
⸻
Later, as the healers tended my wound, Liam paced the chamber like a caged beast.
A knock sounded at the door.
Ren entered, face pale, hands folded politely behind his back.
"My King," he said. "We found something."
He held up a tattered scrap of parchment, sealed with ancient wax.
Liam took it with a frown, breaking the seal with a flick of his clawed thumb.
As he read, his face darkened.
He handed the parchment to me.
The faded script read:
"The savior lives among you. Cloaked in innocence, born of blood and prophecy. Guard her well, for she alone can break the chains of silver and ash."
My hands trembled.
"What does it mean?" I whispered.
Liam's gaze was a storm.
"It means," he said, voice low and full of awe and terror, "that you are far more important than any of us knew."
Ren's smile, polite and sharp, flickered at the edges.
And in his mind, a new plan was already taking shape.
One that would end with me either dead—
Or crowned.
Whichever served him best.