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 Sixty: The Black Blood
Year 13 – One Hundred Fourteen Months After the First Sacrifice
The black blood had changed everything.
Liora could feel it in her veins, thick and hot and alive. It moved differently than ordinary blood. Slower. Heavier. Like liquid shadow.
The old texts had promised power, but they had not prepared her for this.
She was faster now. Stronger. Her senses had sharpened beyond anything she had imagined. She could hear the heartbeat of every person in the castle. She could smell their fear, their desire, their hunger.
She could taste their souls.
Not literally—not yet. But she could sense them. The bright ones. The dark ones. The ones that would be worth more than one.
The whispers guided her.
There is a noble in the castle, they said. A visitor. A woman. Her soul is worth two.
She is in the guest quarters.
She is alone.
She is vulnerable.
Liora smiled.
Thank you, she thought.
You're so useful.
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The Guest Quarters – Night
Liora walked through the corridors, invisible as always.
The guards nodded at her. They did not question her. They never questioned her.
She reached the guest quarters.
She knocked on the door.
"Who is it?" a voice called.
"Princess Liora."
The door opened.
A woman stood in the doorway. Young. Beautiful. Rich.
"Your Highness. What can I do for you?"
"I want to show you something."
The woman frowned.
"What?"
"Follow me."
She turned and walked away.
The woman hesitated.
Then she followed.
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The Cellar – The Fiftieth-First
Liora led the woman to the new cellar.
Not the old one—the old one was for ordinary victims. The new one was for the powerful.
"What is this place?" the woman asked.
"A place of power."
"I don't understand—"
"You don't need to understand."
Liora turned.
Her eyes were black.
The woman stepped back.
"What are you—"
Liora moved.
Faster than the woman could follow. Faster than she could react.
Her hand closed around the noble's throat.
"Please—"
"Shh."
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The Draining – The Noble
Liora reached into the woman's mind.
It was easy now. The black blood had made her stronger, faster, more efficient.
She found the memories.
The desires.
The fears.
...rich...
...beautiful...
...powerful...
...but empty...
...so empty...
...no one loves me...
...no one sees me...
...no one knows...
...what I am...
...what I've done...
...the bodies...
...the secrets...
...the shame ...
Liora pulled.
The memories flowed into her.
The secrets.
The shame.
The soul.
Delicious, she thought.
More.
She pulled again.
The woman gasped.
Her body convulsed.
Her eyes rolled back.
She pulled again.
The woman went limp.
She withdrew from her mind.
She looked down at the body.
Still breathing. Still alive. But empty.
Another victim.
Another name for Finn's list.
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The Fifty-First Ritual
She performed the ritual in the cellar, surrounded by shadows and the smell of old blood.
The whispers watched.
She spoke the words.
She made the cuts.
She collected the blood.
And when it was over—
The darkness purred.
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The Power – Fifty-One
The fire in her veins burned brighter.
Fifty-one sacrifices. Fifty-one souls. Fifty-one streams of darkness flowing into her, merging with her blood, becoming part of her.
But this soul was different.
Stronger.
Worth two.
Two in one.
Nine more.
If I take another noble—
Seven.
If I take a mage—
Four.
If I take a warrior—
One.
If I take a child—
None.
She released the spell.
The shadows retreated.
She looked at the body.
A noble. Rich. Beautiful. Dead.
No one is safe from me, she thought.
No one.
She smiled in the darkness.
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The Disposal
She burned the noble's body in the 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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Finn – The List
Finn added another name to the list in his head.
The noble. Guest quarters. Fifty-one.
He recited the list every night before bed.
Fifty-one names.
Fifty-one faces.
Fifty-one souls.
Fifty-one, he thought.
She's killed fifty-one people.
She's getting stronger.
Faster.
More dangerous.
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 Silence
The castle had grown silent.
Not the silence of peace—the silence of fear. The servants no longer sang at their work. The guards no longer laughed at their posts. The nobles no longer shouted in the halls.
Everyone was listening.
Waiting.
Watching.
For what, they did not know. But they could feel it coming. A storm. A shadow. Something dark and inevitable that had been building for years.
Liora felt it too.
But she was not afraid.
She was the storm.
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Liora – The Evening
She sat in her chamber, reading by candlelight.
Fifty-one sacrifices.
Nine more until the curse.
If she followed the faster way.
If she consumed the powerful.
If she drained the strong.
If she took the innocent.
Nine more.
She closed the book.
She looked at her reflection.
The girl in the mirror was gone.
Something else was looking back.
Something ancient.
Something hungry.
Nine more, she thought.
And then—
Then the curse.
Then forever.
But first—
The powerful.
The ones whose souls are worth the most.
The king.
The mage.
The warrior.
The child.
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.
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, fifty-one 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 Sixty