To protect the elves, I had no choice but to seek out my former lover, Garrett Jackson — now the Empire's Supreme Judge.

He was consumed by obsession.

No matter the time or place, he would seize me, pull me into his burning embrace, and whisper my name like a curse and a prayer.

A month later, just as I allowed myself to surrender once more to the warmth of his body, a nail drove deep into my collarbone.

He gripped my chin and sneered.

“Elven blood is red too?” he hissed. “But how does a few drops of yours compare to the river that flowed when my sister was sacrificed — by you?”

“If you won’t tell me where the forbidden land of the elves lies… then I’ll drag you through hell, alive, until you beg for death.”

He made me watch as he married 99 women — each more beautiful and venomous than the last — and forced me to bleed, daily, so their skin could stay flawless.

He shattered my wings, forced me to kneel beside their bed, and listen to the sickening sounds of their intimacy.

When the 99th wife gave birth, he ordered my spirit bones to be torn from my body and boiled into soup — nourishment for her and the child.

He loathed me… yet he refused to let me die.

“Tell me the truth,” he whispered again and again, holding my crumbling form in his arms. “Don’t die… not yet.”

I bore his twisted love in silence.

But he would never learn the truth.

Because I had only five days left to live.

——

A sharp object struck my forehead. Warm blood trickled down my cheek.

I wiped it away — my palm was soaked in red.

“What are you spacing out for?!” the housekeeper shrieked. “Get in there and clean the master’s room — now!”

Silently, I rinsed the blood from my skin, dragged my bruised and battered body through the hallway, and limped toward Garrett’s chamber.

The moment I pushed the door open, a thick, cloying scent overwhelmed me — sickly sweet, laced with lust.

“Clean it properly, or I’ll beat you to death!” The whip cracked across my back, sending tremors through me.

“I will,” I muttered, kneeling to scrub the floor.

Garrett reclined lazily on the sofa, his chiseled upper body bare, a towel slung low on his hips. He didn’t even look at me.

Silently, I wiped away the obscene stains — one shameful trace at a time.

Everything in the room had been replaced more than once. The carpets changed too often to count.

Garrett was addicted to pleasure, and each wife more savage than the last.

Suddenly, a pair of delicate feet stepped into view.

The 88th wife smiled sweetly as she crawled into his lap.

The rag in my hand brushed her toes by accident. I recoiled immediately — but too late.

“You filthy whore!” she shrieked. “How dare you touch me with that disgusting thing?!”

She turned to him, pouting. “My lord, please… chop off her hand?”

Without hesitation, Garrett’s foot slammed into my chest. I hit the floor hard, gasping for air.

“Useless creature,” he spat. “You can’t even clean the floor right.”

I curled into myself, trembling. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, ma’am…”

His eyes darkened, voice cold as ice. “Seems I’ve been far too lenient with you lately.”

Fisting my hair, he dragged me across the marble floor, leaving streaks of blood in our wake.

In the courtyard, he tossed a dagger to the ground.

“Let’s begin,” he said casually, adjusting his sleeves. “My wives are waiting for this month’s beauty soup.”

A circle of women gathered around me — dazzling, cruel, hungry.

My hands trembled as I picked up the dagger and sliced into my arm, already littered with scars. Blood streamed out, pooling steadily into the bowl below.

The women rushed forward, laughing giddily, dipping their hands into the warm crimson as if partaking in some twisted game.

“Oh, it feels so smooth!”

“The color’s even brighter than last time! My skin feels whiter already!”

Ever since Garrett discovered that my blood had beautifying properties, he had demanded this ritual—once a month, without fail.

Day by day, month by month, I withered.

My complexion faded to a ghostly pallor, until my strength finally gave out and I collapsed to the ground.

Garrett scoffed, his voice cold and condescending.

“Stop pretending. Aren’t elves supposed to have tenacious vitality? You’ve survived this long, haven’t you?”

I said nothing.

The housekeeper’s whip struck my back again.

“Get up! We haven’t extracted the spirit bone yet!”

I tried to push myself up, but my vision swam.

When the cross-shaped nail pierced my chest, I couldn’t even scream. With a sharp crack, my spirit bone—clear and radiant—was ripped from my body.

“Grind it into powder,” Garrett ordered, tossing the bloody shard to a servant.

“Elsie just gave birth. She can’t move much—boil it into soup and bring it to her.”

He turned to leave, glancing at me like I was nothing more than garbage.

Laughter and curses erupted around me.

“This is the elf who murdered your sister!”

“Filthy thing!”

“If her blood didn’t keep the 99 of us looking flawless, she’d have been dead already!”

They swarmed me—pinching, hitting, marking my skin with bruises—but I felt none of it.

The reek of filth dragged me back to consciousness.

A bucket of sour, yellow liquid was dumped over my head, soaking my matted hair and icy skin.

“Get these piss buckets cleaned up!” a servant snarled, kicking over another barrel.

I reached for the rim of a frozen container, my fingers barely moving, but someone kicked me hard in the back.

Splash!

The river in Silver Creek is bitter cold in winter. I flailed, the freezing water slicing through my skin. From the shore, I heard laughter.

“Look at that! Elves really don’t die easily!”

By the time I crawled out, drenched and shaking, my lashes were tipped with frost.

That’s when I saw him.

Garrett stood nearby, his brows furrowed as he stared.

“Your body…” His voice was low, puzzled. “Why is it glowing?”

I looked down. My arms had gone nearly transparent. A hollow smile touched my lips.

When an elf’s life is nearing its end, their body fades into transparency—a sign of approaching death.

Soon, I would vanish entirely.

“You’re still playing dumb?!” he snarled, grabbing my throat. “Tell me! What cruel things did you do to my sister?!”

My vision dimmed. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. My lungs burned.

Then he let go. I crumpled to the ground like a discarded doll.

Without warning, he tore off my ragged clothes and shamed me in front of the watching guards and servants.

The cold stone beneath me scraped at my skin. But I couldn’t move. I didn’t even flinch as he stripped away the last remnants of my dignity.

When it was over, he looked down at my limp, naked form with contempt in his eyes.

“Since your mouth is tougher than bone,” he said, his voice devoid of emotion, “throw her into the Valor Pit.”

Inside the Valor Pit, the deafening roar of the crowd threatened to shake the very heavens.

“Elves versus beasts—begin!”

With a violent clang, the iron cage sprang open. A black bear with blazing red eyes charged at me, rancid breath hitting my face. Before I could dodge, its claws slashed deep into my shoulder. Blood splattered across the arena floor.

The crowd went wild. Screams, whistles, savage cheers.

“Rip her apart! Kill the elf!”

Gritting my teeth against the pain, I waited until the beast lunged again. Then, with every ounce of strength, I wrapped my arms around its thick neck. It thrashed furiously, claws carving more wounds into my body, but I held on. I didn’t let go until it collapsed beneath me.

I dropped to my knees in the blood-soaked sand, breath ragged and shallow.

Then, without warning, six panels of transparent glass rose from the ground, trapping me like a captured animal.

“The auction begins,” said Garrett from the high platform. His voice was flat, devoid of any warmth.

“The right to use this elf for one night. Starting bid, 500 gold coins.”

The crowd fell into a stunned hush—then chaos erupted again. Eyes full of greed and lust locked onto me, slithering over my bruised and bloodied form. I heard someone swallow thickly. Laughter, vile and low, buzzed in my ears.

“I’ll pay 501!”

A one-eyed man with rotting teeth stood up, grinning wickedly. His odor reached me even from where he stood.

“No matter how much they bid, I’ll always add one more! I’ve never tasted an elf before. Tonight, I’ll savor her slowly!”

His gaze dragged across my body, stopping at my battered legs. He licked his lips.

Silence.

Everyone knew Felipe Lowry. The most depraved man in Silver Creek. Women who fell into his hands never came back whole.

As I was dragged away, the last thing I saw was Garrett turning his back to me—without even sparing a glance.

That night was hell.

I passed out again and again, only to be jolted awake by buckets of freezing water. The pain never ended. My body was broken, my soul hollowed out.

By morning, my legs were bent at unnatural angles. There wasn’t an inch of skin left unscarred.

“She... she might not last through the night,” a trembling voice murmured.

“If she dies, you all die,” another snapped. “Heal her or lose your heads.”

But I couldn’t hear clearly anymore. Pain had consumed everything.

In the darkness, my mind drifted backward.

I was once the happiest elf in the forest. He was the lost boy who stumbled into my world.

He stood in the sunlight, smiling.

“Jayne, wait for me. I’ll come back and marry you.”

But when he returned, it was with soldiers and fire.

His sister had disappeared. The world blamed the elves.

He believed them.

He burned the forest himself. My people fled.

To protect those who remained, I offered myself. I let him take his hatred out on me.

If it meant he would stop hunting them, I could bear anything.

So, even as I was tortured nearly to death, I didn’t say a word.

I couldn’t tell the truth—not yet.

Somewhere in the haze, I heard a sigh.

When I opened my eyes, I was lying in a luxurious bedroom. Elsie—the 99th wife—sat gracefully at a table, sipping black tea. Her crimson nails tapped rhythmically against the porcelain rim of her cup.