Page 41 of Her Fated Alpha Prince
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.
She stood before the mirror, fingers trembling as the chill clung to her skin. The liquid glass rippled again, and this time the shapes inside became clearer—faint images, like memories folded in shadow. Faces she didn’t recognize, places she had never seen, and symbols that stirred something deep within her chest.
Ariana swallowed hard, struggling to keep her breath steady. The voice inside her heart had spoken twice now, both times urging her to remember. But what exactly was she supposed to remember?
Her mind flashed back to the dream—the jungle, the silver flames, the vines that caught her fall like old friends. She hadn’t understood it then, but now a thread began to pull through her thoughts, weaving the past and present together in a delicate, dangerous tapestry.
The mirror shimmered once more, and a new image surfaced. It was a woman—tall and regal, her hair like spunsilver, her eyes fierce and commanding. She looked at Ariana not with judgment, but with a weighty understanding, as if she saw the cracks and the strength both.
Ariana’s breath caught. The woman’s face was hauntingly familiar, yet impossible to place.
A sudden noise behind her made her spin. A shadow moved near the door, silent as a breath.
“Who’s there?” Ariana called, voice steadier than she felt.
From the darkness, a figure stepped forward—V. The silver-haired man whose name she barely dared to speak. His eyes, sharp and calculating, held a flicker of something unreadable.
“You should not be here,” he said quietly, eyes flicking to the mirror. “This place is not safe for you yet.”
Ariana squared her shoulders, gripping the dagger more tightly. “I need answers. I can’t wait anymore.”
V studied her for a long moment, then nodded reluctantly. “Very well. But know this—the deeper you go, the harder it will be to return.”
He stepped aside, motioning toward a narrow staircase concealed behind the far wall. “Beneath this manor lies the Heart Chamber. It holds the secrets of your bloodline and the power you carry, whether you believe it or not.”
Ariana’s heart hammered, equal parts fear and anticipation. The chamber sounded like something from the stories Kael had whispered, something ancient and dangerous.
“Lead the way,” she said, trying to keep her voice calm.
As they descended, the air grew colder, heavier with the scent of earth and forgotten things. The walls seemed to hum with power, and distant echoes whispered in a language she almost recognized.
At the bottom, a heavy iron door barred their path. V placed his hand against the cool metal, and the runes carved into it glowed softly, then faded. The door groaned open, revealing a chamber bathed in a pale blue light.
In the center stood an altar, covered in dust and scattered with wilted flowers. Symbols glowed faintly on the floor—runes she felt resonating in her bones.
V turned to her. “This is where your ancestors bound their power. Where your fate was sealed.”
Ariana stepped forward, her gaze drawn to the altar. She could feel the energy pulsing beneath her skin, the same energy that had stirred in her dreams and in the garden outside.
Her fingers brushed the altar’s surface, and a surge of heat shot through her. Images flooded her mind—visions of battles fought, promises made, and a destiny she could no longer deny.
She pulled back, breath shallow but steady.
V’s voice was soft now. “The choice is yours, Ariana. Embrace it, or walk away forever.”
