Chapter 4 - THE KING IN THE DARKThey returned to the capital before sunset.

Draven said nothing during the entire ride.

Neither did Ren.

The words haunted him.

King Alaric is not dead.

His father.

Alive.

Somewhere.

Watching.

Manipulating events.

Draven had spent twenty years hating a ghost.

Now he wondered if the ghost had been the one pulling the strings.

The moment they entered the palace, Draven ordered every door sealed.

“No one leaves.”

Captain Hale nodded.

“And Vesper?”

“Bring him to me.”

The lord arrived ten minutes later.

Calm.

Perfectly dressed.

Almost amused.

Draven stood at the center of the throne room.

“Where is my father?”

Vesper smiled.

“I don't know.”

Draven drew his sword.

“Wrong answer.”

Vesper didn't move.

“King Alaric died twenty years ago.”

“You were there.”

“Yes.”

“What did you see?”

“A kingdom burn.”

“Did you see his body?”

Silence.

For the first time, Vesper hesitated.

Draven noticed.

“Guards.”

Two soldiers stepped forward.

“Take him.”

Vesper laughed.

“You're making a mistake.”

Draven's blade touched his throat.

“Everyone says that right before they lose.”

Vesper looked past him.

At Ren.

“Your Majesty…”

His smile vanished.

“You still don't know what she is.”

Draven pressed the blade closer.

“I know enough.”

“No.”

Vesper's eyes changed.

For one second, they were not human.

Gold flooded his irises.

Ren stepped back.

Draven instantly moved in front of her.

Vesper smiled again.

“Ask Ren what happens when she remembers.”

Ren whispered,

“Don't listen to him.”

Vesper was dragged away.

But the room remained cold.

Draven turned.

“Ren.”

“I don't know what he means.”

“I believe you.”

She looked at him.

“You do?”

“Yes.”

The answer came so quickly that she almost cried.

Draven lowered his sword.

“I don't know who my father is anymore.”

Ren took his hand.

“Then don't become him.”

Draven looked at her.

“I won't.”

That night, they searched the palace archives.

They found nothing.

Until Ren noticed a hidden mark beneath an old map.

A small crown.

She touched it.

The bookshelf moved.

Behind it was a staircase.

Draven lit a torch.

They descended.

The tunnel ended beneath the throne room.

On the wall were hundreds of names.

Vael.

Blackwood.

Kings.

Queens.

Heirs.

Draven followed the list with his fingers.

Then stopped.

One name had been carved recently.

REN VAEL.

Below it:

THE LAST HEIR.

Ren stared.

“I never knew.”

Draven looked at her.

“I know.”

“No.”

She pointed.

“There's another name.”

Under hers was a second inscription.

DRAVEN MOORE.

Draven stepped closer.

His name had been crossed out.

Then rewritten.

Ren looked at him.

“Why would they erase you?”

Draven had no answer.

A sound echoed through the tunnel.

Footsteps.

Someone was coming.

Draven extinguished the torch.

They hid behind a pillar.

A man entered.

Tall.

Broad.

Wearing a black cloak.

Draven stared.

The stranger approached the wall.

Raised his hand.

Touched Ren's name.

Then whispered,

“Soon.”

He turned.

Moonlight from a crack in the ceiling revealed his face.

Ren covered her mouth.

Draven's heart stopped.

The man was older.

Scarred.

His hair was silver.

But the resemblance was unmistakable.

King Alaric.

Draven's father.

Alive.

Draven stepped forward.

“Father.”

The man froze.

Slowly, he smiled.

“My son.”

Ren grabbed Draven's arm.

Alaric looked at her.

For one terrifying second, his expression changed.

Not surprise.

Recognition.

“You found her.”

Draven's voice shook with anger.

“You knew about Ren?”

Alaric smiled.

“I knew about her before you were born.”

Draven raised his sword.

“Why did you let me believe you were dead?”

“Because I needed you to become king.”

“You murdered my mother.”

“No.”

Alaric's expression hardened.

“She betrayed me.”

Ren stepped forward.

“You're lying.”

Alaric looked at her.

“You have her eyes.”

Draven's grip tightened.

“Don't speak to her.”

Alaric laughed.

“You still protect everyone except yourself.”

He stepped closer.

“That's why Vesper chose you.”

Draven froze.

“What?”

Alaric whispered,

“Vesper was never working for me.”

A beat.

“He was working for the thing beneath Blackwood.”

Ren felt the floor tremble.

A deep growl moved through the stone.

Then every candle in the tunnel ignited by itself.

Alaric looked at the ceiling.

“It has awakened.”

Draven turned to Ren.

“What has?”

Alaric answered.

“The old king.”

The floor cracked.

Something enormous moved beneath them.

Ren screamed.

Draven pulled her into his arms.

Alaric stepped backward.

A dark voice rose from below.

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“Bring me the heir.”

Then the entire tunnel collapsed.