Chapter 52 THE VERKIN
(HAVEN)
I freeze.
The voice comes from the shadows between the trees—too smooth, too measured, and threaded with something that makes my skin prickle.
Slowly, I turn around, as if scared of what I'll see standing in the shadows.
The creature steps into the faint moonlight, and my breath catches.
He is tall—taller than Auren—with limbs just a little too long, joints bending at angles that look almost right but not quite. His body is wrapped in layered dark leathers and bone-threaded fabric, as though armor and ritual garb have fused into one. Symbols are carved into the material, glowing faintly with an eerie, sickly blue light that pulses like a living thing.
His skin is not one color. It shifts—ashen gray where the light touches it, obsidian where shadows cling—like smoke trying to remember how to be flesh. Veins of something luminous run beneath the surface, faint but visible, as though power circulates inside him instead of blood.
Then there are his eyes. They are entirely wrong.
Too bright, too knowing. A molten gold rim surrounds pupils that stretch vertically, like a predator’s, and when he blinks, there is a second membrane that slides over them, translucent and unsettling.
Those eyes pin me in place, sharp with recognition.
His hair falls past his shoulders in coarse white strands, but parts of it seem to drift on their own, as if underwater. Horns curve back from his temples—not smooth, but ridged and fractured, one chipped at the tip like it has seen battle and survived.
When he smiles, I see teeth that are just slightly too many.
“Relax,” he says mildly, tilting his head as if amused by my silence. His voice carries a faint echo, like more than one throat speaks at once. “If I meant you harm, Queen Haven, you wouldn’t still be standing.”
My heart pounds, instincts screaming at me to run.
“What are you?” I demand, forcing steel into my voice. “How do you know my name?"
He throws his head back and laughs, the sound coming out sweet and melodious, yet haunting. Like something straight out of a nightmare. And somehow it keeps me on edge.
Before I can say anything else, mother appears by my side, a scowl on her face. “Damodar!"
His smile softens. “Liah! It's been so long since I last saw you my darling."
I raise my head to look at Mom and almost suffer a heart attack when I see her fighting a smile.
The fuck!
My mother steps fully into the moonlight, her presence like a shield snapping into place beside me. The forest seems to recoil—just slightly—as if acknowledging her authority.
“Damodar,” she repeats, sharper this time. “You were not invited.”
He presses a hand to his chest in mock offense, claws glinting faintly. “Invited? Liah, must you wound me so deeply? I merely followed the pull. You know how sensitive I am to… interesting developments.”
His gaze flicks to me again, lingering with unsettling intensity.
“I see she inherited your eyes,” he adds lightly. “Defiant, dangerous, and utterly beautiful.”
I blink, trying to make sense of what is going on in front of me. “Mother?”
Her jaw tightens, the smile she was fighting finally gone. “Do not address him directly, Haven. Just ignore him.”
Damodar chuckles. “Still so cautious. And yet here she stands; a queen, a savior, and walking fracture in fate.” He leans closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “You didn’t tell her everything, did you?”
“Enough,” my mother snaps.
The air shifts.
Not dramatically—no thunder, no fire—but something ancient stirs, heavy and watchful. Damodar straightens, his expression sharpening into something more serious.
“I came as a courtesy,” he says calmly. “Visions are stirring again. Stronger than before. You know what that means.”
My chest tightens. “You know about my visions.”
He smiles without humor. “Child, I felt them. They ripple through realms like cracks in glass. Eurolys is no longer hiding his evil deeds.”
At the sound of that name, my mother goes very still.
“You should not speak it here,” she says quietly.
Danodar’s eyes gleam. “Why not? He’s already moving his pieces. Whispering to old powers, promising them dominion.” His gaze returns to me. “Just like he once promised your mother.”
I turn sharply to her. “What is he talking about?”
She doesn’t answer right away. Her hand finds mine, grips it tighter than necessary.
“Danodar,” she says, voice low and dangerous, “Leave. Now.”
He smirks and shakes his head slowly. “As much as I would like to indulge, I'm afraid I can't. Not until I've done what I came here to do." He dips his hand in the pockets of his leather coat. “Where's Tyren? There's something really important that needs to be discussed."
Mother turns to me and nods. " Can you reach out to Auren?”
\~~~
In ten minutes we are seated in King Tyren’s office.
By ‘we’ I mean mother, Auren, Damodar, Amelyn , Imogen and Tyren.
The festival is still going on outside in all its force and capacity. The drums are still playing loudly and the chatter still lively.
In ten minutes, I have learnt that Damodar is what they call a Verkin, someone who travels through dreams and visions.
Great!
“So Damodar, what exactly has you coming to Tir'Narel?" Tyren asks, folding his arms and leaning back into his chair.
“Wait," I say, holding up my hand. “Can you tell me how you and my mother are related to him?"
Tyren sighs and Damodar laughs.
“We studied together," he says. “Your mother and Tyren were always at the top of the class while I had always been the black sheep. That one student who wasn't smart enough or couldn't learn fast enough.”
" Wait, hold on,” Imogen says, shaking his head slowly like it'll help all the information sink in. " You all studied under Soren? The great sorcerer who lined in the mountains? I studied there too.”
Tyren nods. "I could tell from your magic.”
" Is the sorcerer still alive? Maybe we could ask him for help regarding my brother's curse. Maybe he'll know what to do and…”
" Amy,” Auren cautions softly. " That is not the issue at hard now. Let's focus on the elephant in the room.”
Amelyn looks like she's about to say something but then thinks better of it and stays silent.
“Jokes apart," Damodar says, his expression becoming serious for the first time since I met him tonight..”Eurolys is getting stronger by the day. He has people who collect magic and bring to him in Euron. The moment he gets stronger than the seal holding him,” he turns to me, " your visions will stop being visions.”
Tyren nods like he just recalled something. “We had a not so nice meeting with the faes some time ago and the fae ambassador mentioned something about missing artifacts."
"Who could it be that is helping Eurolys?” Amelyn asks.
" Dark faes,” mother replies. She's still transparent to others, meaning only I can see her. " Faes whom he corrupted into dark faes to do his bidding."
I relay the message to them and their eyes nearly bulge out.
" But there's one more thing,” Damodar says, and we all turn to him expecting. " Eurolys isn't the only soul in Euron.”