Masquerade of Desire

Aris's POV

They say deep in the cursed forest, once a year, a flower blooms.

Glowing bright enough to grant a single wish.

Dangerous enough to steal your final breath.

Maybe I was foolish to believe in such a thing. Maybe chasing legends was reckless.

But if that flower could free me from this life—I’d face whatever thorns it had.

The night air bit at my skin, sharp and cold. I pulled my cloak tighter, praying it would hide the sound of my heart, which pounded like a warning drum in my chest. But I couldn’t turn back now. Not when I’d already stepped beyond the palace walls.

I was barefoot. Breathless. Desperate.

By dawn, I’d be eighteen.

And by law, my place would be decided.

Palace guard.

Staff.

Soldier.

Or perhaps—an advisor. I had taken the test. I could pass it. But what would it matter?

The idea of standing post near those blood-drinking nobles made my stomach twist. But sitting behind scrolls, whispering into the ears of monsters—wasn’t much better.

None of those roles were made for someone like me.

Because I wasn’t who the world thought I was.

Since the day I was born, my father decided I’d be a son. Not out of love or tradition—but fear. He told everyone I was a boy. That was safer. Smarter. So I became one. Outwardly, at least.

I’ve never worn my hair long. Never learned to braid it or tie it with silk. It’s always been short, sharp against my neck, just enough to pass. The girl I was died the moment I was named. Buried under rules, under lies, under necessity.

No one—not the palace, not our neighbors—knows what I truly am.

Just Aris, the boy. Aris, the shadow.

But tonight, beneath the cover of darkness, I was none of those things.

I was just a girl chasing a rumor—because it might be my only chance.

I heard the story whispered by the older boys. A flower that grants the deepest wish of the one brave enough to find it. Hidden beyond the guarded lines of the cursed woods.

If even a sliver of it is true…

If there’s even the smallest hope I can choose who I get to be...

Then let the creatures of the forest come for me.

Let them try.

Because I’ve been running from myself for too long—and tonight, I’m running toward something.

A miracle. A choice. A life that might finally be mine.

The forest was thick with mist, the trees twisted like claws against the moonlight. Every crackle of dry leaves beneath my feet made me flinch. Still, I pressed on, one hand gripping the edge of my cloak, the other brushing branches aside.

But the deeper I walked, the more the silence pressed against me.

No sounds. No wind. No creatures.

Only my breathing—and the growing dread curling inside me.

Minutes passed. Maybe hours. I don’t know. But then I saw it.

The same crooked tree. The same patch of silver grass. The same broken branch I’d stepped over before.

No.

No, no, no.

“I’ve been walking in circles,” I whispered, heart sinking. “I’m lost.”

Panic clawed its way into my throat. I spun around, looking for any sign—any landmark that hadn’t already betrayed me.

“What do I do?” I muttered, my voice shaking now. “What do I—”

I turned—and slammed straight into something solid.

No. Someone.

A gasp tore from my throat as I stumbled back, but strong arms caught me effortlessly. My hands instinctively reached out, grabbing onto his forearms—hard, cold, unyielding.

And then I looked up.

Moonlight filtered through the canopy above, casting his face in sharp shadows.

My breath caught.

He was beautiful in the most dangerous way. Eyes like molten obsidian, too still, too unreadable. A nose cut with cruel precision. Full lips curled into something between a sneer and a smirk—like he’d already seen through me.

He wasn’t human. I could feel it.

He was too still—like a statue carved from something older than time.

Too silent—like the night itself bent around him.

Too in control—like nothing could ever touch him without permission.

His eyes didn’t move. They held me there, like chains wrapped in velvet.

Then, his lips parted.

“Who are you?”

The question was low. A whisper, almost. But it carried a weight that made the air feel heavier.

His voice was rough, deep, and unsettlingly calm—like smoke curling through the cracks of a fire not yet seen.

It wasn’t loud.

It didn’t need to be.

It slid down my spine like ice.

My throat went dry.

My entire body tensed as I tore myself out of his grasp. He let go without resistance, as if he’d only held me because I’d allowed it.

I stumbled back a few steps, heart racing, breath shallow. The distance between us felt too little. Far too little.

“Y-You’re not supposed to be here,” I said, forcing my voice deeper, rougher. “This area is off limits.”

My words shook, pathetic even to my own ears. But I forced myself to meet his gaze, pretending like I hadn’t already shrunk in fear.

He arched a brow slowly, like I’d just amused him. Or maybe insulted him. I couldn’t tell. The corner of his mouth lifted—but it wasn’t a smile.

No.

It was something darker. Something cruel. A warning wrapped in velvet.

“Is it?”

His voice was low, tinged with mirth, but it carried that same weight—like gravity itself bent around him.

My spine stiffened. My hands curled into fists at my sides.

“You’ll be arrested,” I said, lifting my chin with a bravado that didn’t quite reach my trembling legs. “Being here is a violation of the palace law.”

That made him smile for real—slow and lethal.

“You mean you’ll arrest me?”

Before I could respond, he took a step forward. I took one back.

He took two more. Silent. Sure.

I reached behind me blindly. My fingers curled around the knife tucked into my belt, the handle slick with nervous sweat. I drew it clumsily, pointing it toward him with both hands.

“Turn around,” I managed, my voice shaking. “I have a weapon.”

He stopped.

Then his gaze dropped. One glance at my grip, and that arrogant smirk returned.

“Go on, try me,” he said, voice dipped in silk and poison.

“But if that’s how you plan to kill me—with that laughable grip—then I’m disappointed.”

His eyes flicked up, locking with mine, merciless.

“I’ve seen toddlers hold spoons with more conviction.”

My stomach sank.

Shit.

I blinked—and in that single heartbeat, he moved.

Too fast. Too smooth. Too silent.

Before I could even scream, my back hit the rough bark of a tree. The air rushed from my lungs.

His hand was planted beside my head. His body loomed, inches from mine. I couldn’t move—pinned not just by his arm, but by the force of him. His presence. His heat. His absolute command of the moment.

He leaned in, head tilting just enough for the moonlight to catch the sharp lines of his face.

His voice dropped to a whisper, one that scraped the edge of something forbidden.

“What’s your name, boy?”

My heart was pounding so loud I was sure he could hear it. Feel it.

“Aris.”

His eyes darkened. He didn’t repeat it. He just let it settle.

"Why are you here?"

His voice was quiet—deadly quiet. Not shouted, not growled—just spoken like a knife laid gently on the skin before it cuts.

I opened my mouth.

"I... I..."

The words tangled in my throat like thorns.

Because how could I explain?

That I’d come looking for a flower that might not exist?

That I’d risked death for a wish?

That I was a lie wrapped in borrowed courage?

His gaze burned into me, holding me there like I was something under glass. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe right. His arm was still braced beside my head, and the warmth of his body just inches from mine made my pulse scatter.

I forced myself to look up into his eyes.

Dark. Watching. Waiting.

But he wasn’t impatient—he was amused. Like he already knew I was about to lie. Like he’d enjoy hearing it.

"You...?" he prompted, one brow rising just enough to make the air feel thinner.

I clenched my fists at my sides. “I—I heard… there’s something in the forest.”

His expression didn’t change, but the air around him did. It got heavier. Still.

"Something?"

“A flower,” I whispered. “They said it grants wishes.”

Silence.

Then he laughed. Once. Low and sharp and without an ounce of kindness.

“So you came all this way,” he said, his voice curling around the words like smoke, “into restricted territory... just to chase fairytales?”

I stiffened. “I didn’t mean—”

"You didn’t mean to get caught."

He leaned in closer. I shrank back into the bark of the tree, but there was nowhere left to run.

“Tell me, Aris,” he said, his voice dropping to a low whisper as his lips brushed near my ear, “what did you come here wishing for so badly that you were ready to die for it?”

I shut my eyes, fighting the flush rising to my cheeks and the words threatening to spill. My throat tightened with the effort not to speak.

Freedom—I wanted to say.

Choice. A life of my own.

But I stayed silent.

When I opened my eyes again, he pulled back just enough to see my face—close, but still just out of reach. I caught the faint glow in his eyes, like embers glowing deep in a dark fire. He studied me slowly now, like a hunter deciding if his prey was worth the chase.

His next words scraped low against my spine.

“You’re a terrible liar.”

My breath hitched.

I should have looked away. Should have apologized or run. But the heat in my chest twisted into something stubborn, and I bit back.

“I could ask you the same thing,” I snapped, defiance sharpening my voice. “Why are you here?”

The moment the words escaped, regret flickered at the edge of my mind.

He tilted his head slightly, as if surprised by my boldness. His lips curved—something dark, unreadable.

“You ask questions like you’re owed answers,” he said, voice low and smooth. “But this place… it’s not safe for you.”

My throat tightened. My heart thundered, but I met his gaze.

He took a step closer, and I felt the bark press into my back again.

“I’m here because I want to be,” he said calmly, voice carrying a quiet authority without revealing anything. “No fairy tales. No wishes.”

Then, his eyes narrowed just a little, something dangerous flickering there.

“And now,” he added, voice dropping, “I have a distraction I didn’t expect.”

I froze.

A distraction?

His breath brushed against my ear—warm and cold all at once.

“Go home, little boy,” he whispered, his voice low and edged with something dangerous. “Before I decide to keep you here.”

I didn’t need to hear it twice.

My heart pounding like a drum in my chest, I turned on my heel and ran—feet barely touching the ground, lungs burning with each desperate breath.

Strangely, the forest seemed to part for me. The shadows no longer tangled like before. My feet knew the way home all along.

Before I knew it, the cursed forest was behind me, and the cold night air filled my lungs. I hadn’t been lost at all.

But something had changed.

Something inside me whispered that this was only the beginning.