Page 15 of Her Fated Alpha Prince (Royal Dragons of Blackwater Islands #1)
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ARIANA
The morning light felt sharper than usual, slicing through the thin curtains and settling on her skin like a warning.
Ariana blinked awake, her mind still tangled in the dream’s remnants — the jungle, the silver flame, the voice whispering, “Remember who you are.” That phrase echoed louder now, pounding in her chest with a relentless rhythm.
She sat up slowly, muscles stiff, her breath shallow.
The garden outside her window glowed faintly under the early sun, but the vibrant blooms from last night had wilted, leaving only traces of their unnatural brilliance.
A part of her wanted to believe it had all been a trick of the night, but her fingertips told a different story — the faint warmth still lingered on her skin where she’d touched the petals.
Ariana’s gaze drifted to the folded parchment beneath her mattress.
If you feel something changing, say nothing.
For now. We are being watched. The words felt heavier this morning, as if wrapped in layers of meaning she hadn’t yet unraveled.
Who was watching? Why was she so dangerous?
And most importantly, what was she becoming?
Her fingers traced the edge of the parchment again, trembling slightly. She felt a weight settle in her chest, the kind that tightens your throat and blurs your vision. But she pushed it down, forcing herself to breathe evenly. Fear wouldn’t help her now.
The knocking on the door from last night had replayed in her mind all morning — tentative, almost shy, but impossible to ignore. She hadn’t answered then, and she wasn’t sure she could now. Whoever it was, they didn’t want to reveal themselves. That only made her more wary.
Ariana wrapped a shawl around her shoulders and moved toward the window.
Her reflection stared back from the glass — eyes wide, alert, searching for answers that refused to come.
The changes inside her weren’t just about power or magic; they felt deeply personal, like an awakening buried beneath layers of forgotten memories.
Outside, the garden stirred again, subtle movement among the leaves like a breath in the wind. She shivered despite the warmth in the room. The plants no longer responded to her touch like before, but the sense of connection remained — as if the earth itself was waiting for her to remember.
Her thoughts turned to Elder Varos. If he was watching her, then Seryna must be watching too. The noble woman’s shadow loomed larger in Ariana’s life with every passing day. There was no doubt she wanted to control whatever power Ariana held, but how close was she? How deep was the danger?
A sudden noise — a soft scrape near the door — pulled Ariana from her thoughts. She froze, every muscle tense. The room was still, silent except for the slow beat of her heart. No footsteps. No voices. Just the lingering unease that something was very much not right.
Ariana moved carefully across the room, eyes scanning every corner, every shadow.
The small dagger Kael had left her before he went lay on the table, its cold blade gleaming in the sunlight.
She picked it up, fingers curling around the hilt with a mix of comfort and fear.
It was the only piece of certainty she had right now.
Her mind raced with questions and possibilities, but no answers came. She was changing — in ways she couldn’t control or explain. And somewhere deep inside, a voice whispered, urging her forward, daring her to face the unknown.
With a steadying breath, Ariana squared her shoulders and stepped toward the door. She would no longer hide from what she was becoming. The world outside was watching, but so was she.
And she was ready.
The hallway outside her room was quiet, but the silence was heavy—thick with unseen eyes and whispered threats. Ariana’s grip tightened on the dagger. She wasn’t sure if it was meant to protect her or remind her of how vulnerable she really was. Either way, it grounded her.
As she stepped out, the cool marble floor beneath her bare feet sent a shiver up her spine. The manor felt different in the daylight—less like a sanctuary and more like a trap. Shadows gathered in corners, and every portrait on the wall seemed to watch her with judgmental eyes.
She paused at the foot of the stairs, her breath catching when a faint sound echoed from below—a soft, deliberate tap. Not the same as last night, but close enough to set her nerves on edge. Ariana’s pulse quickened. Someone was here, someone waiting.
Her mind flashed to Kael, and a pang twisted her heart. She hadn’t heard from him since that night many moons ago. Did he know what was happening to her? Was he watching from the shadows, as silent and tense as she felt?
The thought brought no comfort. If anything, it made her feel more alone. Kael’s presence was like a ghost—both balm and torment—and she wasn’t sure which she craved more.
Ariana swallowed hard and moved toward the source of the noise. The library door stood slightly ajar, a thin sliver of darkness spilling into the bright hallway. She nudged it open, eyes adjusting to the dimness inside.
Rows of ancient books lined the shelves, their spines cracked and faded. Dust motes floated in the shafts of sunlight like tiny specters. But the room held more than just forgotten knowledge—it held secrets, waiting to be uncovered.
Her steps were cautious but purposeful as she crossed the room, scanning for signs of whoever—or whatever—had knocked. Then she saw it: a small scrap of parchment pinned beneath a heavy book on the desk.
She pulled it free, unfolding the delicate paper. The handwriting was unmistakable—sharp, deliberate.
“Do not trust the light that blinds you. Shadows hold more truth than you know.”
The message sent a chill down her spine. Who had left it? Was it a warning or a threat? And what light was blinding her?
Ariana’s thoughts spiraled, but she forced herself to focus. This place, this world, was a puzzle, and she held only a few pieces. Each clue brought her closer to the truth—and closer to danger.
She tucked the note into her shawl and moved toward the window. Outside, the garden pulsed faintly with life, the colors muted but alive, as if waiting for her command.
The weight of her secret settled heavier on her shoulders. She wasn’t just a noble’s daughter anymore. She was something else entirely—something old and powerful, and utterly unknown.
And the watchers were closing in.
Ariana turned back to the door, resolve hardening in her chest. She would face whatever came next—not as a frightened girl, but as someone ready to fight for the truth, for herself.
Because if she didn’t, no one else would.
She slipped the parchment safely into the folds of her shawl and stepped back from the window.
The garden outside, once a simple patch of earth, now felt alive with quiet expectation, like it was waiting for her to make the next move.
A flicker of uncertainty passed through her mind—what if she couldn’t live up to what was coming?
But the tightening in her chest refused to let fear win.
Ariana’s fingers brushed over the dagger at her side, a cold reminder of the precarious line she was walking. It wasn’t just the garden or the dream or the warnings from V. It was everything—her identity, the shifting world around her, and the constant, haunting pull of Kael.
Her thoughts drifted to him, to the last time she’d seen that fierce intensity in his eyes, that complicated mixture of protectiveness and something deeper, more dangerous.
She wanted to hate him for the way he unsettled her, for the way he made her feel exposed, vulnerable—but she couldn’t. Not completely.
The door creaked softly behind her, and Ariana spun, heart hammering.
But it was only a servant, bowing quietly before retreating down the hall.
The manor’s walls held a thousand secrets, but they also held echoes of ordinary life, reminders that somewhere beneath the magic and the menace, there was still a home she once knew.
She took a breath, steadying herself. The note’s warning replayed in her mind: “Do not trust the light that blinds you.” What light? Was it Kael? Or someone else?
Ariana pulled her shawl tighter and began walking toward the spiral staircase leading down to the manor’s lower levels. If she was going to understand what was happening, she needed answers—and the old library was only the beginning.
As she descended, shadows danced across the stone walls, and the air grew cooler, heavier. The scent of earth and old paper thickened, wrapping around her like a cloak. Down here, the world felt less certain, more dangerous.
At the bottom, a narrow hallway stretched ahead, lined with heavy oak doors. One door, carved with ancient runes, called to her. She reached out, fingertips grazing the cool wood. The runes pulsed faintly beneath her touch—a slow heartbeat of magic.
Ariana hesitated. This room had been locked for decades, maybe centuries. What lay behind it? And was she ready to face it?
With a steadying breath, she pushed the door open. Dust swirled in the air, catching the dim light from a single flickering candle on a stone pedestal. The room beyond was small, filled with relics and artifacts—things that didn’t belong in the modern world.
Her eyes caught on a mirror framed in twisted silver vines. It wasn’t like any mirror she’d ever seen—the glass rippled softly, like liquid water, and beneath its surface, faint shapes moved.
Drawn forward, Ariana reached out, fingertips brushing the mirror’s surface. A sudden chill shot through her, and the room seemed to hold its breath.
“Remember who you are,” the voice whispered again, soft and sure, coming from somewhere inside her chest.
Ariana pulled back, heart pounding. The journey she’d begun wasn’t just about survival—it was about reclaiming herself.
And whatever this mirror showed her next, she was ready.