Bound by the Dark Prince

The training grounds stretched beneath the shadow of the Bloodborn stronghold, encircled by ancient stone walls that had witnessed centuries of battles. The ground was rough, uneven, a true test of endurance and skill. Evelyn stood at the center, the weight of expectation pressing against her like an unseen force.

Dawn had barely broken, but the warriors had already gathered, forming a silent ring around her. Their expressions varied—some curious, some skeptical, all waiting to see if their queen was truly worthy of her title.

Lysara stood before her, arms crossed. "Your power surged last night, but it was uncontrolled. If you cannot harness it, you will destroy yourself before the Council ever gets the chance."

Evelyn clenched her fists. "Then show me how."

Lysara smirked. "Very well."

She raised a hand, and from the shadows, four warriors stepped forward. Each of them was an elite, their skills honed through years of brutal training. Their weapons gleamed under the early morning light—one wielded twin daggers, another a curved blade, the third carried a long staff, and the last bore a heavy sword nearly the size of Evelyn herself.

Lysara's voice was calm but firm. "You will fight them all."

Evelyn's breath caught. "At once?"

Lysara nodded. "A queen does not wait for her enemies to strike one by one. You will face them together or fall."

Kael leaned against the stone wall, his arms folded, watching with lazy amusement. "Try not to die, little flame."

The first warrior moved, the twin daggers flashing. Evelyn barely dodged as the blades sliced past her. A second attack came from behind—she twisted, blocking just in time, but the force sent her stumbling back.

Too slow.

The warrior with the staff swept her legs out from under her, and she hit the ground hard. Before she could recover, the heavy sword was at her throat.

Lysara sighed. "Dead. Again."

Evelyn gritted her teeth, frustration burning inside her. "Again," she demanded, pushing herself to her feet.

The warriors reset, and the fight began anew. Again, she fell. And again. Each time, her body ached more, her limbs heavy with exhaustion. The cycle repeated until the sun rose high above them, casting its merciless heat over the field.

Finally, as she hit the ground once more, Kael pushed off the wall and strode toward her. He crouched beside her, his crimson eyes gleaming. "You're thinking too much."

Evelyn scowled. "I'm trying to survive."

Kael smirked. "Exactly. And that's why you're losing."

She frowned, wiping sweat from her brow. "What am I supposed to do, then?"

Kael reached out, tapping a finger against her chest. "Stop fighting with your body. Use your blood."

Her blood. The power that had erupted last night—that dark, untamed force—still lingered beneath her skin, waiting.

She took a slow breath. This time, when the warriors attacked, she didn't rely on her strength alone. She let the power within her rise, guiding her movements.

The daggers came first, but now, she saw them before they moved. She twisted away, the air rippling around her. The curved blade followed—she ducked, feeling the energy pulse through her veins. The staff swung for her ribs, but she caught it, the wood splintering at her touch.

The heavy sword came down, but this time, she didn't move. She raised her hand instead.

A burst of force erupted from her palm, sending the warrior flying backward.

Silence fell over the field.

Evelyn stood, breathless, her fingers tingling with raw energy. The warriors stared at her, their disbelief evident.

Lysara's lips curved into a rare smile. "Now we begin."