Princess's Revenge: Slave to the Soulbound King Chapter 118

Morgana

The moonlight cast silver shadows across my chambers as I stood before my ornate mirror, adjusting the folds of my dark, hooded robe. The perfect picture of Lady Morgana, the grieving widow of a disgraced commander. How wonderfully naive these werewolves were, accepting my carefully crafted facade without question.

That cunning human Adelaide thought hiding the necklace I gave her would keep her safe. Little did she know it slowly released dark energy in the shadows, seeping through her defenses like poison. By the time of the soul bonding ceremony, her true identity would be laid bare for all to see.

But that alone was not enough. Tonight, I began to execute the... final phase of my grand plan.

I moved toward my chamber door, listening carefully. The castle had settled into its nightly rhythm—guards changing shifts, servants retiring to their quarters. Perfect. I pulled my hood up and stepped into the corridor, my bare feet silent against the cold stone.

The sacred ceremonial hall lay deep within Lycandor Keep's most revered chambers, where ancient soul bonding rites had been performed for generations. I descended the spiral staircase to the ritual chamber, sensing no guards nearby. Lycanthar likely believed the sanctity of the place was protection enough. How tragically mistaken he was.

The massive oak doors were slightly open, revealing the hall. The ceremonial platform, carved from white marble and inscribed with ancient wolf runes, radiated holy energy. Moon crystals embedded in the walls cast an ethereal blue glow, their light burning against my vampiric nature like cold fire.

I forced myself forward, drawing upon centuries of discipline to endure the divine presence. The black magic array would need to be woven beneath the existing sacred symbols, feeding off their power while corrupting their purpose.

From my sleeve, I withdrew a small silver stylus tipped with a fragment of obsidian. I began etching the first rune into the marble's base, my movements precise and practiced. The ancient vampiric symbols seemed to writhe and pulse as they took shape, eager to corrupt this holy place.

"*Umbra vincit lucem*," I whispered, the old tongue rolling off my lips like a prayer to darker gods. Shadow conquers light.

Each symbol I carved would serve as a conduit, channeling my will directly into Adelaide's mind during the ceremony. At the crucial moment when her guard was down, when she stood vulnerable before her beloved wolf king, I would seize control. Her own hands would become the instruments of Lycanthar's destruction.

The irony was exquisite—the Moon Bride murdering her destined mate with the entire werewolf nobility watching. The resulting chaos would tear their society apart from within.

I had nearly completed the seventh rune when I heard footsteps echoing from the corridor above. Someone was approaching. I froze, my enhanced hearing tracking the movement. A single person, light-footed—likely a servant on some late errand.

The footsteps descended the staircase, growing closer. I quickly concealed my stylus and stepped behind one of the larger moon crystals, allowing its radiance to mask my presence. The sacred energy burned against my skin, but I endured.

A young werewolf servant entered the chamber, carrying a bundle of fresh ceremonial linens. His eyes widened as he noticed the faint traces of dark energy still clinging to the platform's base. Before he could react further, I stepped from the shadows.

"Good evening," I said softly, allowing my power to flow into my voice.

The servant spun around, his bundle falling to the floor. His nostrils flared as he caught my scent, confused by the subtle wrongness my vampiric nature couldn't entirely conceal. His eyes met mine, and I poured my will into them, weaving the ancient compulsions.

But something was wrong. The sacred energy permeating this chamber fought against my influence, weakening my power. The servant's eyes flickered, awareness battling against my mental intrusion. I pressed harder, sweat beading on my forehead from the effort.

"You saw nothing here," I commanded, my voice strained. "You will continue your duties and forget this encounter."

His eyes finally grew vacant, the compulsion taking hold. "I... saw nothing," he repeated mechanically.

"Leave now," I ordered, and he gathered his linens with robotic movements before departing.

But as he reached the doorway, I caught a brief flash of clarity returning to his gaze—a moment of confusion and suspicion before it faded again. The holy ground had weakened my influence more than I'd anticipated. He would remember something, even if he couldn't quite grasp what.

No matter. Once I had completed my work, I would deal with him.

I finished carving the remaining runes with swift efficiency, the black symbols now forming a complete circle beneath the ceremonial platform. With a final incantation, they flared with malevolent energy before sinking into the marble, invisible to casual observation but ready to spring to life when called upon.

Satisfied with my work, I made my way back through the corridors, my mind already turning to the next phase of my plan. As I ascended toward the upper levels, I detected a familiar scent—fresh blood and the distinctive musk of the wolf king.

Rounding the corner, I found young Cressida walking slowly down the hallway, her hand pressed to her neck where fresh bite marks adorned her pale skin. The new blood thrall, still adjusting to her elevated status within the pack hierarchy.

Perfect.

"Lady Cressida," I called softly, allowing genuine warmth to color my voice. "What brings you to the corridors so late?"

She turned, offering a respectful curtsy. "Lady Morgana. I've just... completed my duties with His Majesty." A flush colored her cheeks as she spoke.

"How wonderful," I purred, approaching with the grace of a concerned elder. "It must be such an honor to serve our king so intimately. I do hope you're adjusting well to your new responsibilities."

"It is the greatest privilege of my life," she replied earnestly. "Though I confess, I'm still overwhelmed by the significance of it all."

"Of course, my dear. Such changes take time to process." I reached out, placing a gentle hand on her wrist just below where her pulse fluttered beneath pale skin. "May I?"

She nodded, unsure but trusting. My fingers found the delicate network of veins beneath her flesh, and as the dark corruption entered her circulatory system, I felt a surge of satisfaction. This particular gift would serve its purpose in ways she could never imagine. For now, it would remain dormant, waiting for the proper conditions to reveal its true nature.

"There," I said, releasing her wrist with a motherly smile. "You seem a bit pale, dear. Perhaps you should rest more between feedings. We can't have our king's blood thrall collapsing from exhaustion."

"Thank you for your concern, Lady Morgana. You're very kind."

If only she knew the true kindness I was bestowing upon her—the honor of playing such a crucial role in the grand design that would reshape this kingdom forever.

"Sleep well, child," I whispered as she continued down the corridor, her steps already slightly unsteady as something new began its subtle work within her veins.

I returned to my chambers with a profound sense of accomplishment. The pieces were all in place now—the necklace steadily weakening Adelaide's concealment magic, the corrupted ceremonial hall ready to channel my will, and now the blood thrall carrying my gift directly to the wolf king's very essence.

Three separate plans, each designed to complement the others. If one failed, the others would still achieve my ultimate goal. The werewolf kingdom would burn, torn apart by betrayal and chaos, just as my master had envisioned.

I poured myself a glass of the dark wine I kept for special occasions, raising it in a silent toast to the destruction that would soon engulf this place. Tomorrow, the soul bonding ceremony would commence, and with it, the final act of a drama three centuries in the making.

The Moon Goddess's precious children had no idea what was coming for them.