Chapter One: The Dream with No Name
The first time she dreamt of him, Elara was still bleeding from her crown.
Not physically. Not where the world could see.
But inside — where the Veil lived now, curled like a serpent beneath her skin.
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The dream came like a blade in velvet.
She stood in a blackened hall, its walls made of bone-white stone and endless mirrors. The floor bled ink with every step. Her reflection didn’t follow her. It stared back.
“You cannot rule what you deny,” the reflection whispered.
She turned—and he was there.
Not Kaelen. Not Riven.
Someone older. Colder. His eyes were twin pits of gold, and his voice was the silence between heartbeats.
He didn’t touch her, not yet.
But the threat of it made her bones hum.
“You wear the Veil like a crown,” he said. “But it is a collar, too.”
Elara swallowed. “Who are you?”
He stepped forward, until they nearly touched
