Rosearia sat on the edge of the plush, oversized mattress, staring blankly down at her trembling hands. The fine, embroidered silk of her sleeves felt entirely foreign against her skin, much like the lavish room around her.
With no memories and no name, Rosearia felt like a stranger trapped inside her own body.
She didn’t know where she’d come from.
She didn’t know why she’d been brought here.
And worst of all, some part of her was terrified that she might be better off never remembering.
Find your memories...
Rosearia froze.
The voice hadn’t come from anyone in the room.
It had come from inside her.
Find them... before they find you...
Rosearia’s blood ran cold.
Who was "they"?
And why did the voice sound afraid?
"What’s wrong?" Adrian’s low rumble of a voice snapped her sharply out of her stupor.
Rosearia blinked, her gaze snapping toward him. He was standing near the foot of the bed, casually reaching for a pair of dark, leather-trimmed trousers and pulling them on over his broad, scarred thighs. Droplets of water still glistened on the carved planes of his chest, catching the warm, flickering glow of the nearby fireplace.
A sudden wave of heat rushed straight to Rosearia’s cheeks. She flushed furiously, quickly averting her eyes and staring intently at the dark hardwood floor.
"I... I don’t know," she rasped, her voice dry and scraping against her throat. "It feels as though... something is talking to me. From the inside."
"Mmm."
A heavy silence settled over the room, broken only by the crackle of the hearth. Then came the soft thud of footsteps. Adrian stepped over to the side of the mattress, his sheer height casting a long shadow over her shivering frame. Without warning, he reached out, his broad, calloused hand wrapping gently around both of her cold, trembling wrists.
"What are you doing?" she asked, flinching instinctively and pulling back against his grip.
"Shh. Let me look. I won’t hurt you," Adrian murmured, his tone laced with a strange, undeniable authority that made her movement pause.
He closed his striking electric-blue eyes, taking a deep, steadying breath. A fraction of a second later, a faint, golden-silver aura flared along his forearms. The air in the room grew heavy with the sharp scent of wild pine, rain, and raw, magic as his power seeped through her skin, probing deep into her bloodline.
For several agonizing seconds, no one spoke. Rosearia held her breath, feeling a strange, soothing warmth travel up her arms, temporarily calming the chaotic burn of her black-crimson veins.
Finally, Adrian opened his eyes. His electric-blue irises flickered with a sudden, sharp shock before he turned his head toward Aldric, who was still lounging comfortably in the high-backed velvet armchair.
"She has wolf blood in her veins," Adrian said. "And not just any blood. It’s high-grade wolf blood. Ancient."
"Really?" Aldric hummed from his seat, tilting his head back. A slow, dark smirk curved his lips, his slit-pupiled golden eyes gleaming with dark intrigue as he swirled a razor-sharp dagger between his long fingers.
"She truly is one of a kind," Aldric said, his deep voice vibrating right through the stone floor. "But then, I expected nothing less from the Cursed Rose herself."
"Cursed Rose?" Rosearia’s brow furrowed, confusion tangling tightly in her chest. She looked between the two towering figures, her chest heaving as panic threatened to resurface. "What does that mean? What am I? Why do you keep calling me that?"
"You cannot understand right now, Rose," Aldric said smoothly, stepping out of the armchair with effortless grace. "Your mind is far too fragile to carry the weight of what you are."
"That’s why I need to understand!" she pressed, her voice rising with a desperate, sharp edge as she yanked her hands back from Adrian’s grip. "I don’t know who I am! I don’t know my own name! I need my memories back!"
"It isn’t that simple," Aldric replied, taking a slow, unhurried step toward the bed. The playful smirk vanished from his face, replaced by a dark, serious edge.
"You don’t want the answer yet."
Rosearia frowned. "Why?"
Aldric’s golden eyes settled on her veins. "Because I’m not entirely sure what will happen when you remember. You consumed Memory Wipe Water. It is a forbidden, toxic concoction designed to dissolve the soul’s anchor to its past. Reversing its effects is nearly impossible... though if anyone in these realms knows a way to bypass a memory seal, it would be Asmodeus."
Asmodeus.
"Who is Asmodeus?" she demanded softly, wrapping her arms around herself. "And why do you all speak his name like he is some sort of god?"
Aldric smiled without humor. "That’s a question you should ask him yourself. And to answer your underlying question — he is your third mate."
"What does that even mean?!" Rosearia cried out, her frustration boiling over. "You keep using that word! What is a ’mate’?"
Adrian stepped closer, his heavy aura wrapping around her like a protective shield. "Think of it as partners bound by fate," he explained softly, his electric-blue eyes locking onto hers with absolute intensity. "An undeniable connection. Three souls bound to one, destined to protect, claim, and balance each other across lifetimes."
The moment the word connection echoed in her head, a violent, blinding spike of agony shattered Rosearia’s focus.
ARGH!
She doubled over, clutching her temples as her black-crimson veins flared with scorching, unbearable heat beneath her pale skin. The room spun wildly before her eyes as phantom images — flashes of a bloody execution block, a cold steel blade, laughing faces, and bitter liquid — tried to force their way through the dark barrier in her mind.
"Careful, Rose!"
Adrian was instantly on his knees beside the bed, his broad hands gripping her shoulders firmly to keep her from collapsing off the mattress. "Don’t force it! Stop trying to reach into the dark! Your mind can’t handle the strain yet — it will tear your soul apart!"
Rosearia panted heavily, her tears spilling over her lashes as the searing pain gradually subsided into a dull, thumping ache behind her eyes. She leaned weakly against Adrian’s chest, her small body trembling as she fought for air.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
A firm, respectful rap echoed against the heavy oak double doors of the chamber, shattering the tense silence.
Adrian’s jaw tightened. He slowly stood up, placing himself firmly between Rosearia and the entrance. "Enter," he commanded, his voice returning to its harsh, regal rumble.
The heavy doors swung open with a low groan, revealing a tall, middle-aged man dressed in immaculate, high-collared black robes. He had sleek grey hair, sharp features, and held himself with pristine elegance. It was Anthony, the head butler of the abyssal castle.
Anthony walked into the room with practiced, silent steps, stopping several feet away before bowing deeply at a sharp ninety-degree angle. He held two wax-sealed parchments resting on a silver tray.
"Forgive the intrusion, My Lords," Anthony announced, his tone crisp, formal, and devoid of emotion. "An urgent missive has arrived for you, Your Highness."
"What is it?" Adrian grunted, crossing his massive arms over his chest.
"The Royal family demands Prince Adrian’s presence immediately."
Prince? Imperial Palace?
Rosearia looked up, her tear-stained eyelashes fluttering in complete shock. She stared at the silver-haired beast standing before her. He wasn’t just a powerful warrior — he was a Crown Prince?
Anthony turned his sharp gaze toward the Dragon Duke. "And Your Grace, a letter has also arrived from the Eastern Syndicate. Lord Vane has agreed to meet at twilight to finalize the territorial agreements and gold taxes."
"Tsk," Aldric groaned loudly, tossing his head back in annoyance and smoothing down his leather tunic. "Unbelievable. So I don’t even get a quiet evening with my mate just when she’s finally learning to speak to us without trying to drive a silver hairpin into my heart?"
"It seems the matters of the state wait for no one, My Lord," Anthony replied smoothly, stepping back and bowing once more before retreating from the room, closing the heavy doors behind him.
A heavy, oppressive atmosphere settled over the chamber as both men began preparing to depart. The relaxed, intimate mood vanished, replaced by the crushing weight of their immense power and political duty.
Aldric walked toward the door, his dark cloak billowing behind him. But as he reached the threshold, he suddenly paused. In a blur of blinding dragon speed, he crossed the room and leaned down over the bed.
Before Rosearia could even blink, his warm lips pressed against her pale cheek in a lingering, possessive kiss. The sheer heat of his dragon magic flared against her skin, sending an electric shiver straight down her spine and making her heart leap wildly into her throat.
"What was that for?!" she gasped, her hands instinctively flying to her burning cheek to cover the sudden flush spreading across her face.
"Just consider it a reminder," Aldric chuckled, his golden eyes dancing with dark, irresistible promise as he looked down at her flustered expression. "Don’t miss me too much while I’m handling boring politics, little Rose."
Rosearia lifted her chin, fighting with everything she had to maintain her composure. "Don’t flatter yourself, Your Grace. I’ll manage just fine without an arrogant dragon hovering over me."
"Mmm, learning to be formal and feisty already? I like it," Aldric smirked, stepping backward toward the door. He paused at the threshold, his expression softening just a fraction. "Practice meditation while we’re gone. Focus on your breathing. It will help anchor that wild, corrupted magic sleeping beneath your skin."
With a dramatic sweep of his cloak, the Dragon Duke slipped out of the chamber, his deep laughter echoing down the stone corridor.
Once Aldric was gone, the room fell into a heavy, suffocating silence.
Rosearia turned her gaze back to Adrian. The prince remained standing rigid near the tall arched windows, his jaw clenched so tightly the muscle twitched, his electric-blue eyes storming with dark, turbulent frustration as he stared out into the abyssal dusk.
"Are you... okay?" she asked softly, her voice barely louder than a whisper. "You look like you hate the thought of going back home."
Adrian snapped out of his daze, his gaze shifting slowly back to her. The harsh, lethal edge in his posture softened just a fraction as his eyes locked onto her fragile frame.
"I am fine, duties call," he said gruffly, though the tension in his broad shoulders betrayed his words.
He adjusted his heavy leather bracers, turning on his heel and walking toward the door. But right before his hand touched the iron handle, he paused, looking over his shoulder with a cold, knowing smirk that sent a chill straight down her spine.
"It would be best if you don’t leave this room while we’re away, Rose," Adrian warned softly, his voice dropping into a dangerous rumble. "Asmodeus... isn’t always himself when the sun goes down."
Rosearia sat up straight, her fingers gripping the silk sheets as her heart hammered violently against her ribs. "What is that supposed to mean?"
Adrian’s dark smirk widened, his electric-blue eyes glinting with a dangerous spark. "Why don’t you find out when he arrives?"
Before Rosearia could question him, Adrian turned and disappeared through the door.
Click.
Silence settled over the room.
Rosearia stared at the closed door for a long moment.
Then her gaze slowly drifted toward the enormous windows overlooking the castle.
The castle was far too quiet.
Far too mysterious.
And apparently, she wasn’t allowed to leave this room.
Rosearia’s lips curved into a small smile.
"Well," she murmured, pushing herself off the bed, "that sounds like an invitation."
She glanced toward the door.
Staying in her room was an order.
Rosearia had never been particularly good at following orders.