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 Seventy-One: The Goddess Walks
Year 14 – Two Years After the Curse
Two years.
One hundred and twenty-three kills.
And Liora Veyne, age fifteen, had become something that the world had never seen before.
Not a child. Not a woman. Not even human anymore. A goddess. Immortal. Invincible. Hungry.
The old texts had promised power, but they had not prepared her for this.
She could feel the souls of the dead inside her, a chorus of whispers that never stopped. They told her about the living—their fears, their desires, their secrets. She could see through their eyes, hear through their ears, taste their emotions on her tongue.
She was everywhere.
She was everything.
She was god.
And yet—
The hunger remained.
It never faded. Never quieted. Never ended.
She could feed on a hundred souls, a thousand souls, a million souls, and still, the hunger would return.
It was eternal.
Just like her.
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The Castle – Morning
Liora went down to breakfast.
The servants prostrated themselves as she passed. The guards knelt. The nobles who had dared to return to the castle groveled at her feet.
Everyone knew.
Not what she was—not exactly. But they knew she was a god. They knew to worship her. 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 disappearances.
No one mentioned the bodies.
No one mentioned anything.
Liora smiled.
The castle is mine, she thought.
The kingdom is mine.
The world is mine.
And no one—
No one—
Will ever stop me.
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The Lower Town – Night
Liora walked through the streets, invisible as always.
The whispers guided her. One hundred and twenty-three souls, bound to her, serving her, hungry for more.
There is a man, they said. In the temple on the hill. He is a priest. A holy man. His soul is worth three.
He is alone.
He is vulnerable.
She found the temple.
It was large, made of white stone, surrounded by the smell of incense and the sound of prayers.
She walked inside.
The priest was kneeling before the altar, his head bowed, his hands clasped.
"Who's there?" he asked.
"Someone who wants to make you an offer."
He turned.
His eyes widened.
"You're the princess."
"Yes."
"I've heard about you."
"Good things, I hope."
He crossed himself.
"God protect me."
"God can't protect you," Liora said. "I can."
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The Temple
Liora stepped closer.
The priest stood up.
"What do you want?"
"I want your soul."
"My soul belongs to God."
"Not anymore."
She moved.
Faster than he could follow. Faster than he could react.
Her hand closed around his throat.
"Please—"
"Shh."
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The Feeding
The curse demanded intimacy.
Liora had learned to use the shadows as extensions of herself. They touched the priest 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 faith. His holiness. His soul.
She consumed everything.
And when it was over—
The hunger quieted.
Longer this time.
The priest's soul was worth three.
Three times the satisfaction.
Three times the power.
She looked down at him.
Still breathing. Still alive. But empty.
Another victim.
Another name for Finn's list.
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The One Hundred Twenty-Fourth Sacrifice
She performed the ritual in the temple, surrounded by incense and the smell of holiness defiled.
The whispers watched.
She spoke the words.
She made the cuts.
She collected the blood.
And when it was over—
The darkness laughed.
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The Power – One Hundred Twenty-Four
The fire in her veins burned brighter than ever before.
One hundred and twenty-four sacrifices. One hundred and twenty-four souls. One hundred and twenty-four streams of darkness flowing into her, merging with her blood, becoming her.
But this soul was different.
Stronger.
Worth three.
She could feel it. The priest's essence was purer, brighter, more potent than almost anything she had ever consumed.
Three, she thought.
Three in one.
The hunger is quieter now.
But it will return.
It always returns.
She released the spell.
The shadows retreated.
She looked at the body.
A priest. Holy. 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 priest's body in the temple's brazier.
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 walked back to the castle 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 priest. Temple. One hundred twenty-four.
He recited the list every night before bed.
One hundred and twenty-four names.
One hundred and twenty-four faces.
One hundred and twenty-four souls.
One hundred twenty-four, he thought.
She's killed one hundred twenty-four people.
She is immortal.
She is invincible.
She is a god.
No one is safe.
No one.
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.
One hundred and twenty-four sacrifices.
She was immortal.
She was invincible.
She was a god.
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.
I am immortal, she thought.
I am invincible.
I am a god.
And the world—
The world is mine.
But first—
The hunger.
The endless, aching hunger.
I need more.
More souls.
More power.
More pleasure.
I will never stop.
I can never stop.
This is my gift.
This is my punishment.
This is my forever.
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, one hundred and twenty-four 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 Seventy-One