WHAT LIVES BENEATH THE VEIL
Book Two: The Eternal Hunger
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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-Seven: The First Dawn of the Curse
Year 13 – The Morning After
Liora woke to the hunger.
It was different from before. Before the curse, the hunger had been a whisper. A suggestion. A distant craving that she could ignore when she needed to.
Now it was a scream.
A void in the center of her being that demanded to be filled. Not with food. Not with blood. With flesh. With pleasure. With the moment of connection when two bodies became one and she could reach inside and take.
She lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling the curse pulse through her veins.
This is what I wanted, she told herself.
This is what I asked for.
This is what I am now.
She sat up.
Her body felt different. Heavier. More alive. The black blood in her veins hummed with power, with hunger, with the endless craving that would never fade.
She looked at her reflection in the silver mirror.
Her eyes were black.
Not dark gray. Not deep brown.
Black.
Pure, endless, consuming black.
She smiled.
The darkness smiled with her.
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The Castle – Morning
Liora went down to breakfast.
The servants bowed as she passed. The guards nodded. The nobles who had dared to return to the castle lowered their eyes and spoke in whispers.
Everyone knew.
Not what she was—not exactly. But they knew she was dangerous. They knew to stay away. They knew to keep their mouths shut and their eyes down and their children close.
The queen sat at the head of the table, eating her fruit, drinking her tea.
She did not remember her husband.
She did not remember her son.
She did not remember anything.
"Good morning, Mother," Liora said.
"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 mentioned Darian.
No one mentioned the children who had disappeared from the lower town.
No one mentioned anything.
Liora smiled.
The castle is mine, she thought.
The kingdom is mine.
Soon, the world will be mine.
But first—
The hunger.
The endless, aching hunger.
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The Lower Town – Afternoon
Liora walked through the streets, invisible as always.
The whispers guided her. Fifty-seven souls, bound to her, serving her, hungry for more.
There is a man, they said. In the tavern on Fish Street. He is young. He is strong. He is lonely.
He is perfect.
She found the tavern.
It was crowded, loud, smelling of ale and sweat and desperation.
She entered.
No one noticed her. No one ever noticed her.
She found the man at the bar, hunched over a mug of ale, his eyes red, his hands shaking.
He was young. Twenty, maybe twenty-five. His clothes were cheap, his face was unshaven, his posture was defeated.
Perfect, she thought.
She sat beside him.
"Hello," she said.
He looked up.
His eyes widened.
"You're—"
"I'm Liora."
"The princess?"
"Yes."
"What are you doing here?"
"I was lonely."
He stared at her.
"You're... you're just a child."
"I'm older than I look."
He laughed bitterly.
"Everyone says that."
She reached into his mind.
...lonely...
...desperate...
...no one to go home to...
...what's the point...
...maybe...
...maybe just this once...
...she's just a child...
...but her eyes...
...her eyes are...
She smiled.
"Come with me."
"Where?"
"Somewhere quiet."
He hesitated.
Then he nodded.
"All right."
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The Room
She led him to a room above the tavern. Small. Dark. Private.
"What's this about?" he asked.
She closed the door.
The shadows gathered.
"I want to show you something."
She stepped closer.
"You're going to do exactly what I say."
His breath caught.
"Yes," he whispered.
"Take off your clothes."
He obeyed.
He stood before her, naked, vulnerable, afraid.
And aroused.
She could feel it. The heat of him. The need. The desperate, pathetic hunger that men like him carried everywhere.
"Lie down."
He lay on the floor.
She knelt beside him.
She placed her hand on his chest.
"Close your eyes."
He closed his eyes.
She reached into his mind.
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The First Feeding of the Curse
The curse was different from the drainings before.
Before, she had taken his essence, his memories, his self. Now, the curse demanded more. It demanded intimacy. It demanded the moment when two bodies became one and souls touched.
She did not undress.
She did not need to.
The shadows were her hands, her mouth, her body. They touched him where she could not. They caressed him. They took him.
He gasped.
His body arched.
"Please," he whispered.
"Please what?"
"Please..."
She reached into the place where pleasure lived.
She pulled.
He screamed.
Not in pain. In ecstasy.
His body convulsed. His hands clenched. His eyes rolled back.
The shadows drank.
Not just his essence. His desire. His hope. His future.
She consumed everything.
And when it was over—
The hunger quieted.
Not faded. Not gone. Just... satisfied.
For now.
She looked down at him.
Still breathing. Still alive. But empty.
Another victim.
Another name for Finn's list.
The first of the curse.
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The Return
She walked back to the castle as the sun set.
Her dress was white. Her hair was braided. Her face was soft and sweet and completely ordinary.
But her eyes were black.
And her hunger was endless.
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 dinner.
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Finn – The Vigil
Finn added another name to the list in his head.
The man in the tavern. Fifty-eight.
He recited the list every night before bed.
Fifty-eight names.
Fifty-eight faces.
Fifty-eight souls.
Fifty-eight, he thought.
She's killed fifty-eight people.
The curse has come.
She is no longer human.
She is something else.
Something more.
Something the world has never seen.
He lay in his corner, staring at the darkness.
He did not sleep.
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Liora – The Evening
She sat in her chamber, reading by candlelight.
Fifty-eight sacrifices.
The curse was hers.
The hunger was endless.
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.
The curse is mine, she thought.
The hunger is mine.
The world is mine.
And no one—
No one—
Will ever stop me.
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-eight 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-Seven