WHAT LIVES BENEATH THE VEIL
Book One: The Unblooded Lamb
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CONTENT WARNING: This series contains explicit sexual violence, human sacrifice, psychological torture, murder of innocent characters (including children and family members), ritualistic killing, and extreme horror. No character is safe. Read at your own risk.
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Chapter Fifty-Five: The King's Reckoning
Year 13 – One Hundred Four Months After the First Sacrifice
King Aldric had been back for three days.
He had not noticed the changes in his castle. He had not noticed the fear in his servants' eyes. He had not noticed the emptiness in his wife's gaze. He had not noticed the darkness in his daughter's smile.
He was a fool.
Liora had always known this. Her father was weak, self-absorbed, oblivious. He had never paid attention to his children, never cared about their lives, never noticed that his youngest daughter was something other than human.
He did not deserve to be king.
He did not deserve to live.
And his soul was worth five.
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Liora – The Decision
She had thought about it for days.
Killing her father was different from killing the others. He was the king. His death would be noticed. There would be an investigation. Questions would be asked.
But she had killed her brother.
She had drained her mother.
She had murdered forty-four people without leaving a trace.
She could kill her father.
She would kill her father.
And she would consume his soul.
Five, she thought.
Five in one.
Twenty-two more.
If I take a mage—
Nineteen.
If I take a noble—
Seventeen.
If I take a child—
Twelve.
If I take two children—
Two.
If I take three children—
None.
She stopped.
Not yet, she told herself.
Not until I'm ready.
Not until I have no other choice.
But the thought lingered.
The hunger lingered.
She wanted to consume a child.
She wanted to taste that innocence.
She wanted to feel that power.
Soon, she thought.
Soon.
But first—
Father.
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The King's Chambers – Night
Liora slipped into her father's chamber at midnight.
He was sleeping, snoring, his mouth open, his face slack. He looked old. Weak. Vulnerable.
She stood over him, watching.
...dreaming...
...of the hunt...
...of the woman in the north...
...of nothing important...
...of nothing at all...
She reached into his mind.
He did not resist.
He could not resist.
He was too weak.
Too foolish.
Too human.
"Wake up," she whispered.
His eyes opened.
"Liora?"
"Yes, Father."
"What are you—"
"Shh."
She placed her hand on his chest.
"Close your eyes."
"What—"
"Close your eyes, Father."
He closed his eyes.
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The Draining – The King
She reached into his mind.
It was different from the others. Not because his thoughts were different—they were the same as everyone else's. Fear. Desire. Regret. But because he was her father.
They shared blood.
They shared history.
They shared something that the others had not.
...scared...
...so scared...
...she's going to kill me...
...I don't want to die...
...please...
...please...
...I'm sorry...
...I'm sorry for everything...
...I should have been a better father...
...I should have been a better man...
...please...
She found the place where pleasure lived.
She pulled.
He gasped.
His body arched. His hands clenched. His mouth opened.
The shadows drank.
Not just his essence. His regret. His shame. His love.
She consumed everything.
Delicious, she thought.
More.
She pulled again.
He cried out.
His body convulsed.
More.
She pulled again.
He went limp.
Empty.
Hollow.
Useless.
She withdrew from his mind.
She looked down at him.
Still breathing. Still alive. But gone.
The king was no more.
Just a shell.
Another victim.
Another name for Finn's list.
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The Forty-Fifth Ritual
She dragged his body to the new cellar.
Not the old one—the old one was for ordinary victims. The new one was for the powerful.
She laid him on the floor.
She spoke the words.
She made the cuts.
She collected the blood.
And when it was over—
The darkness roared.
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The Power – Forty-Five
The fire in her veins became an inferno.
Forty-five sacrifices. Forty-five souls. Forty-five streams of darkness flowing into her, merging with her blood, becoming her.
But this soul was different.
Stronger.
Worth five.
She could feel it. The king's essence was thicker, richer, more potent than the others.
Five, she thought.
Five in one.
Twenty-two more.
If I take another king—
Seventeen.
If I take a mage—
Fourteen.
If I take a noble—
Twelve.
If I take a child—
Seven.
If I take two children—
None.
She released the spell.
The shadows retreated.
She looked at the body.
A king. Weak. Foolish. Dead.
No one is safe from me, she thought.
No one.
She smiled in the darkness.
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The Disposal
She burned her father's body in the new cellar's fireplace.
The fire was hot. The smoke was thick. She worked quickly, efficiently, scattering the ashes before dawn.
No one saw her.
No one ever saw her.
She returned to her chamber as the sun rose, smelling of smoke and blood and darkness.
She washed her face.
She braided her hair.
She chose a white dress.
She practiced her smile.
Eyes wide. Innocence.
Mouth soft. Gentleness.
Head tilted. Curiosity.
Perfect, she thought.
She went down to breakfast.
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The Morning
The queen sat at the breakfast table, eating her fruit, drinking her tea.
She did not notice that her husband was absent.
She did not remember that she had a husband.
She did not remember anything.
Liora sat across from her, smiling.
"Good morning, Mother."
"Good morning, Liora."
"Did you sleep well?"
"Yes, thank you. And you?"
"Very well."
They ate in silence.
The servants moved through the room, refilling cups, clearing plates.
No one mentioned the king.
No one noticed he was gone.
No one cared.
He was dead.
And no one would ever know.
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Finn – The Realization
Finn realized it first.
The king was gone.
Not absent—gone. Like the others. Like Darian. Like the queen's memories.
She killed him, Finn thought.
She killed her own father.
And no one noticed.
No one will ever notice.
He added another name to the list in his head.
King Aldric. Father. Forty-five.
He recited the list every night before bed.
Forty-five names.
Forty-five faces.
Forty-five souls.
Forty-five, he thought.
She's killed forty-five people.
Including her brother.
Including her father.
No one is safe.
No one.
He lay in his corner, staring at the darkness.
He did not sleep.
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The Castle – The New Order
The castle had a new ruler now.
Not officially—the queen was still alive, still sitting on the throne. But everyone knew. The princess was in charge. The princess was dangerous. The princess was not to be crossed.
The servants bowed lower when she passed.
The guards stood straighter when she approached.
The nobles sent gifts, hoping to curry favor.
And Liora?
Liora watched.
And smiled.
The castle is mine, she thought.
Soon, the kingdom will be mine.
Soon, the world will be mine.
And then—
Then the curse.
Then forever.
She closed her book.
She looked at her reflection.
The girl in the mirror was gone.
Something else was looking back.
Something ancient.
Something hungry.
Twenty-two more, she thought.
Twenty-two more until the curse.
If I follow the faster way.
If I consume the powerful.
If I drain the strong.
If I take the innocent.
Twenty-two more.
She smiled.
The darkness smiled with her.
And somewhere in the depths of the castle, in a cellar that no one visited and no one remembered, forty-five souls whispered her name.
Liora.
Liora.
Liora.
She heard them.
She always heard them.
They were hers now.
Forever.
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End of Chapter Fifty-Five