Lord Lorcand POV
As soon as the first rays of sunlight peeked over the mountains, Lord Lorcand was already awake and hard at work. His queen had awakened her power, and he knew this day would come—the day he would no longer rule this world alone. Now, he had a ruler by his side.
He was preparing his castle for her arrival, determined to make it feel like home.
The dark halls, long silent and cold, now echoed with activity. He had summoned the souls under his command and ordered them to clean, dust, and rearrange every corner of the fortress. Even the dwarves were enlisted, moving furniture and polishing surfaces with urgency.
The castle must be perfect for her.
It had always been dim, lit only by flickering candlelight, but that would no longer do. With a wave of his hand and a flicker of ancient magic, Lorcand began repainting the walls—replacing dull greys and oppressive blacks with soft, bright hues. Light now touched places that had not known warmth for centuries.
"We have cleaned the rooms," said Rage, appearing beside him.
Lord Lorcand turned to his loyal companion. "Did you make them more feminine—for our Queen?" he asked. The rooms had to feel welcoming, not cold and ominous.
Rage rolled his eyes at the request. "We tried," he muttered. "I got some help from the dead Vila fairies. They knew what she liked."
Lorcand gave a slow, approving nod. Since the war with the Vila Kingdom, several new souls had joined his domain—among them, King Clyde. But Clyde had other duties to attend to.
"Thank you, Rage," Lorcand said firmly, before making his way to the castle kitchen.
Once, the kitchen had belonged to a coven of wicked witches—creatures known for eating children and cursing towns. Now, they were bound to serve as his chefs, part of their eternal punishment. If they defied him, the consequences would be... severe.
As he entered, he found them already hard at work, pots bubbling and knives chopping fresh vegetables.
"Dark Lord," rasped one old witch, her grey hair tied in a tight bun. She wore a stained white chef's jacket and apron. "We are preparing the meal just as you commanded."
Lorcand grinned. "Good," he said, arching his back with authority. "Continue."
But something about the kitchen bothered him. The walls were still black stone, the cupboards heavy dark wood—just like the rest of the castle.
Unacceptable.
When he thought of Willow, he thought of peace, of light, of white daisies and sunlight. Not this.
He placed his palm against the cold stone wall and summoned his magic. The black bricks faded to a calming light blue. The witches gasped at the transformation as the room seemed to brighten with new life. He continued, summoning a glittering chandelier to replace the old torches. Then, he turned the dark wooden cupboards into light oak, topping them with smooth blue marble. The transformation was nearly complete.
"My Lord," one witch muttered while chopping vegetables, glancing up at the transformed space. "This new Queen must have quite a hold on you—changing your entire castle for her."
He hadn't realized until now how much Willow had changed him. A soft smile curved his lips—genuine, not twisted or cruel.
"I suppose she has," he said quietly.
Before leaving, he took one last look at the kitchen. He conjured a modern silver fridge, a dishwasher for the weary chefs, and dressed the windows in delicate light drapes. The kitchen now looked more modern, airy—and yes, feminine.
He was proud of what he had done.
Now, it was time to check the rooms and see how well the rest of the castle had been prepared for the Queen's arrival.
Willow POV
As the morning rose, Willow awoke for the first time since she had fallen into a deep, dreamless sleep the day before. Her body felt fully rested, but as her heavy eyelids fluttered open, she realized she wasn't alone.
Everest.
He was lying on his side at the other side of the bed, fast asleep. One hand rested gently on the pillow, and his lips were slightly parted as he breathed softly. Willow couldn't help but smile—he looked adorable like that. But her smile faded quickly, replaced by confusion.
How did she get into bed?
She slowly sat up, adjusting her body, and noticed she was wearing a white nightgown. The last thing she remembered… was the bath.
Suddenly, everything came crashing back. The thick, dark tar in the bath. The underworld. The horror. The screams.
Willow gritted her teeth and clutched the side of her head as the memories surged like a tidal wave.
"Willow?" Everest's voice came gently from beside her.
She forced herself to breathe, releasing her grip on her hair as she turned to see him now awake and sitting up, his expression full of concern.
"You're awake," he said softly.
She turned to face him fully. "How did I get here? What happened?"
Everest searched her face, troubled. "You don't remember?"
She shook her head.
" Only little bits"
But then—her mother's voice. Flashes of being pulled from the black bath. Her vision throbbed with pain as more images surged through her mind.
Her hands trembled.
Everest took her hand, but she hardly registered the warmth of his touch. More visions—walking through the underworld, fire licking at her skin, the relentless screams.
"Willow, can you hear me?" Everest's voice was distant, drowned in the storm in her head.
She was trapped in a trance.
Then—a sharp slap.
She flinched violently, reality snapping back around her like a whip. Her eyes blinked open, and Everest was in front of her, his deep blue eyes locked on hers, shining with worry.
"My love, what's going on?" he whispered.
Willow took a shaky breath, licking her dry lips. Her gaze darted around the room, grounding herself. She was here. Safe. No more screaming. No more fire.
"I…" she started, her voice weak. "Something happened to me."
Everest gently took both her hands in his.
"What happened, my love?"
She swallowed, trying to find the words. "In the bath… the water turned black, like thick mud. And then… my back. It started burning. It was unbearable. Then—I woke up in a different world."
Tears welled in her eyes, slipping silently down her cheeks.
"I was in some kind of underworld. And there was castle …..Fire "
She pulled her hands away out of his hold, and reached behind her, remember her winds and the burn. A panicked full her when she try to reach them. "My wings—"
She couldn't feel them.
"Where is my wings " She say scare as she panic.
"Willow," Everest's voice broke, choked with sorrow. "I'm afraid… you've lost your wings."
The words struck like a dagger to her heart.
"No…" she whispered. " No it could not be true"
She scrambled out of bed, stumbling across the room toward a tall mirror framed in gold. She had to see for herself. It can't be true. She won't take his word . It has to be there .
But as she stood before the mirror, the truth reflected back at her.
No wings.
Nothing.
The one thing that marked her as Vila—gone.
Only her Human form was looking back at her.
"No!" she screamed, her voice raw with devastation. Her body trembled as the heartbreak set in. She could never fly again. It had all been taken from her.
Anger surged through her, white-hot and electric. She looked down at her hands when she felted some kind of warm energy at the fingertips, her eyes widen when she saw they were turning black. Slowly, her reflection began to change.
Dark veins snaked up her arms.
A power she had never felt before pulsed through her.
"No," she whispered again, but this time it was different. Darker. She felt deferent almost like a confident and looked up to her reflection in the mirror.
She raised her hand to the mirror, fury pulsing in her chest, and with a sudden wave of magic, shattered the glass into a thousand pieces. Shards rained down, catching the light as if the mirror itself had screamed. As the class shutter in to pieces the confident she had was gone replace with fear and she realize what she just done.
Everest was at her side instantly, his hands gripping her shoulders, turning her to face him.
Her eyes were wide with fear, tears streaking down her cheeks. She was scared as hell.
"My love, are you okay?" he asked, barely able to mask the fear in his voice.
She shook her head.
Her gaze dropped to her arms—black veins covered her hands, crawling up to her upper arms.
"What's happening to me?" she whispered, her voice breaking. Everest pulled her into his arms and held her tightly.
"I think… it's the black magic," he said, barely audible.
Willow's breath hitched. She gasped and pressed a trembling hand to her mouth, the truth sinking in like a stone in deep water. Her sobs came in waves now, and Everest held her even tighter, trying to shield her from a darkness that had already taken root inside her.