My concern is evident when questioning Zoe's decision. "Are you sure rejecting your soulmate was the right thing to do? Even if I don't like iGnar, he is your soulmate." Her gaunt face, a testament to the pain and tears shed, confirms the anguish of her choice. For us, the supernatural, finding our soulmate is the pinnacle of existence; losing them means a condemnation to perpetual loneliness.

A gasping breath preceded the words. "Yes, brother." She managed to say, although the tension in her jaw and the watery sheen clouding her eyes betray the emotional storm she is trying to contain. Each syllable seems to scratch her throat, barely holding back the imminent cry.

"I wanted to believe in iGnar, to give him the opportunity to prove that he was not like those warlocks devoured by darkness." Zoe's voice broke, and the impulse to hug her invaded me, a vain attempt to console the void left by the rejection of the soulmate, a wound that is incurable if fate binds you to someone who does not deserve you.

"But he... he turned out to be the worst nightmare among warlocks. His acts are aberrant, repulsive. I cannot conceive of my life tied to a despicable being who delights in the suffering of others, abusing young people, murdering..." My embrace intensified, and the air got stuck in my throat as I listened to my sister's words. Now I understand. Such a being does not deserve a soulmate. The mere thought of imagining her by his side makes my stomach churn. Why did the gods... why did they unite her destiny with such a monster? The pain she must have felt upon discovering the truth... is unbearable.

"I would give my last breath, sister, to tear you away from this suffering, to save you from this agony. I am so sorry." The words burn in my throat, insufficient, useless. A powerless rage engulfs me for not being able to erase her pain, for the cruel irony that her soulmate, the one she gave an opportunity to break the cycle of evil of his lineage, had chosen to be even worse, shattering her.

"I know, brother." Her voice trembles, fighting back tears.

"But you can't protect me from everything, and this... this I must face alone. I gave every last fiber of my being to make it work with iGnar, defying our lineages, ignoring the shadow that haunts his. I wanted to show him the light of a life based on love, respect, empathy... pure kindness. But my love was not enough. He chose the darkness. And although my soul recognized him as its other half, rejecting him was my only salvation so as not to end up getting lost in his darkness." Seeing her like that, defeated, with the light of her joy extinguished by a man who scorned her devotion, tears my soul apart.

The days slipped by one after another, and my attention remained fixed on my sister. Although I know of her effort to emerge from the shadow left by the loss of her soulmate, improvement refused to come into her life. Every sunrise I found her more dejected, her figure thinner with a palpable sadness, and the deep dark circles under her eyes are the silent testimony of sleepless nights and shed tears. However, I never imagined the dizzying fall that still awaited us, until that unexpected day arrived, the most painful that would mark my existence.

"Your Majesty... the princess has disappeared." The phrase from one of my sister's escort mages hit like a blow, stopping my heart. The air thickened in my lungs as my mind refused to process his words. It can't be, I repeated to myself, she is in the garden, enjoying her morning walk. This... this must be a terrible mistake.

"The princess... disappeared?" I managed to articulate, composure barely recovered after the whirlwind of words from the mage who burst into my office. A destructive fury ran through me instantly, the image of my sister in danger igniting a powerless rage for not being by her side to protect her.

"We were guarding the door to her room when a dull thud echoed from inside, followed immediately by her sister's heartbreaking scream. Upon bursting in, a thick dark smoke enveloped everything, suffocating the light and the air." My fists clenched with fury as I listened to the mage's explanation, the truth warming my blood: the damned one who called himself her soulmate... has taken her.

"Mobilize every mage in the kingdom." He ordered with a tense calm that barely contained the fury burning inside me.

"My sister will return, unharmed, no matter the cost." My voice cracked slightly before hardening again.

"And no one, absolutely no one, will inform my parents. That news... that burden is mine." A chill ran through the office as my dark gaze fixed on the mage in front of me.

iGnar... that despicable warlock who trampled on my sister's love, who did not accept her rejection and has now kidnapped her... has signed his own death warrant. I swear that there will be no corner of the world where he can hide from my revenge. He will pay with his blood.

After ordering an exhaustive search for my sister, stirring up every corner of the magical and non-magical kingdom, I was forced to face an even more painful task: communicating the news to my parents. Zoe's disappearance is a sharp blade stabbing to the soul, and witnessing my mother's crumbling, her tears a reflection of my own anguish, while my father, with his face deformed by pain and anguish, trying to hold her, is a vision that will haunt my memories forever. Knowing that their daughter, my sister, is in the hands of a creature of pure darkness is an unbearable weight, an open wound in the very fabric of our family.

Each clue was a spark of hope, followed by the heartbreaking emptiness of mockery. The warlock who took my sister subjected us to slow and cruel torture, playing with our longings and those of my parents. We felt how life escaped us with each deception, how the illusion of seeing her healthy again became an increasingly distant shadow, devoured by the cruelty of that damned one.

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I arrived again with a new story, this time that of the magician king 🪄🪄🪄. Where I will talk in more detail about what happened to his sister, the hunt for iGnar and the revenge when he had him in his hands.

In addition, characters from the first story The Rejected Moon and the Vampire King will also appear here.

The updates will be daily, if for some reason I do not publish one day I will reward it the next day.

"Damn you, iGnar! How could you...?!". I spat the words with a fury so dense I could almost touch it. It's not just a scream, it's a howl of pain tearing at my throat. He dares to look at me with that calmness... with that damned indifference!, knowing perfectly well that each of his lies, each betrayal, feels in my soul as if thousands of sharp blades pierced me again and again, an endless torment that leaves me alive only to continue suffering.

"It was inevitable, Zoe." His voice, as casual as if he were commenting on the weather, paralyzed the blood in my veins.

"Even though you are my soulmate, you are so... bland. You don't provoke in me the intoxicating pleasure of bending female wills, of seeing the terror in their eyes when they beg for mercy, only to break them and have them submissively accept each of my 'favors'. Of course, by then, they become as empty and boring as you, dear. And old toys... must be discarded to find new ones." The naturalness with which he describes his depravity left me breathless. Women reduced to objects, souls shattered by his sadism, lives extinguished by his boredom. The knot in my chest is suffocating, but I refuse to cry. I won't give him that satisfaction.

"I tried to see beyond, Iknar. I tried to ignore the prejudices against your lineage, not to judge you for being a warlock, those creatures labeled as dark, corrupted by magic and ambition until they become heartless monsters. But you... you have failed me in the worst way. Therefore, I, Zoe Ishikawa, reject you. With my soul in pieces, I break every thread, every bond that tied me to you."

The break hurts, a cold emptiness that compresses my chest, torturous stabs that force me to bend over, to fight against the desire to scream and writhe on the floor. But I'm not the only one who suffers. In iGnar's eyes, I see a glimpse of his own torment, although he disguises it with that mask of coldness. However... there's something more. A thirst for blood, a murderous look that I've never seen before, or that he hid with a chilling mastery. A shiver of terror runs down my spine, making me back away. I was united... bound to a ruthless madman.

"Even though you have rejected me, my dear Zoe, you are still marked as mine, a seal that you will never be able to erase." His voice, devoid of all genuine emotion, resonated with the coldness of a tomb.

"So get ready, because when the moment is right, I'll come for you. And you'll come with me, whether you want to or not. It's inevitable." Hearing him speak with that amazing naturalness, like the sick psychopath he always was, turned my stomach. I was so blind! I let myself be carried away by that damned bond, ignoring the alarms that screamed his true nature: a beast that, although disguised for a time, would always succumb to his thirst for control and abuse, once unleashed, unstoppable.

iGnar vanished in a mockery of smoke, but I didn't stay to witness his escape. In an instant, I'm in my room, collapsing against the cold floor. Here, between my own walls, I finally allowed the dam to break. I wouldn't give that despicable creature the satisfaction of seeing me in pieces, but the truth is that his betrayal hurts. He not only shattered my trust and the love I offered him, but twisted the bond that united us to inflict a piercing suffering. And even worse... the image of the other women, victims of his cruelty, churns my stomach. Their pain is double, physical and emotional, bodies taken by force, souls marked by trauma, many perhaps led to death. Disgust, repulsion... and a fierce rage grow in me. Not only for me, but for them, for all those who have been and continue to be trapped under the yoke of a monster like him, and do not have the same opportunity as me to free themselves from him.

After the pain and disappointment shook me to the depths of my being in my room, I found the determination to face my brother. I need to tell him the truth about iGnar. He never agreed with my decision to strengthen that bond, but he kept quiet out of respect. Now, reality bites me with the certainty of his words. He's right! I was an idiot to throw myself off a cliff with iGnar just because my soul recognized him. Frustration is a claw inside me, the rage against myself, an acid burning me alive. If only... That "if only" is a cruel mockery. The past is unchangeable. I can only beg whoever listens to me to give me the strength to endure this fire that is devouring me from within, this suffering that whispers sweet lies about death.

With a broken voice, I laid bare before my brother every detail of what happened with iGnar. There was no reproach in his gaze, nor a shadow of criticism in his words. Far from pointing out my folly for ignoring his advice, he simply listened to how sad and depressing my confession was. At the end of my story, he held me in a warm and silent embrace. In that instant, a glimmer of peace opened and settled inside me. Although inside I still feel like I'm in pieces, empty, almost lifeless, the refuge of his arms gave me a faint calm, an oasis of tranquility that I had lost since iGnar burst into my existence, and I became obsessed with wanting to change him with love.

After the conversation with my brother, I tried to build a wall against the penetrating invasion of pain. A pain that feels like an invisible claw, squeezing my chest until it squeezes out the last spark of will. The idea of silencing everything, of finding peace in nothingness, assailed me with an almost irresistible force. A final escape to stop feeling useless, silly, a vulnerable puppet. I even contemplated death as my only way out, but my cowardice disguised itself as love. I couldn't, I didn't dare to inflict that indelible wound on my parents, on my brother. So I chose to keep breathing, a selfish act disguised as sacrifice, while inside, life has already been extinguished for me.

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Happy day.

It is not mandatory to read the first novel belonging to this trilogy, but it would be convenient to know some characters from the first story The Rejected Moon And The Vampire King that will appear here.

"Mom, have you seen the wallet with the money I had saved inside the insole of my sneakers?" I asked, leaving the room with a pang of unease, trying to silence the suspicion that my mother, once again, had taken my savings.

"Lucia, I had to..." My mother began, trying to sound calm. I didn't let her continue. The words that are coming are a familiar echo, a truth that my heart refuses to admit, especially coming from her. But this time, resignation will not be my answer. I won't lower my head again.

"Don't even tell me... another one of my brother's economic emergencies, and as always, we're off to solve his problem or fulfill his whim," I snorted with frustration. It's the same old story: he gets into trouble and we have to get him out; the capricious prince wants something and we have to buy it for him. In the end, my savings, the only ones in this family, always end up paying the price.

"Don't talk to me like that, Nayana. I'm your mother, keep that in mind." At that typical appeal, I let out a huff that tries to hide a mixture of ironic laughter and growing irritation.

"For me, there's no doubt: you are my mother. The one who has always doubted, the one who has always preferred to ignore it, is you. Only when it suits you, you remember that bond." The impact of her hand made me stagger, and I feel tears welling up, heavy, in my eyes. But at this moment, I decide that I will not cry anymore in front of her. I am not going to beg for a mother's love that will never spring from the heart that bore me.

"You will respect me, Nayana. And if I took that money it was because your brother needed it, and you owe it to me. I gave you life, and this roof that shelters you is mine, so you adapt to my rules. If you don't like them, the door is open." Her words, cold and blunt, pierced deep into my soul, inflicting a pain I never thought possible to feel. To be reduced by your own mother to a mere source of income, to see how my efforts are systematically ignored, is a deep wound that goes right through to the soul.

"Fine, if that's all, then I'm leaving. There's nothing for me here." My voice trembled, but the decision is firm. I turned around, letting the tears run without permission as I almost ran into my room. In a fit of rage, I threw two changes of clothes, pajamas, shoes, underwear, my phone, and my documents into the backpack. I left the room, finding the furious figure of my mother in the living room.

"If you cross that door, Nayana, forget about coming back. The doors of this house will be closed to you, regardless of your tears or your pleas to want to return." Her words resonated coldly, but they no longer reach me. All I yearn for is to escape, even if my home were under a bridge. Any place is better than continuing to live under this constant yoke, where it is not enough to strip me of seventy percent of my two salaries, but also my savings are confiscated at whim to defray the whims of a son who only knows how to demand and get into trouble, a self-centered king that everyone must please and rescue.

"Do you know what that money is for? For my laptop," I blurted out, bitterness and resentment coming to the surface.

"Coincidentally, when I finally bought the first one, after more than a year of economic deprivation to buy it, the 'prince' of my brother had a university 'emergency', and you took it away from me without caring about my tears or my pleas. That laptop was my window to write my novels, to start fulfilling my dream of being a writer." The next slap burned on my cheek, punishment for confronting her favoritism. Because unlike my brother, I have destroyed myself studying and working to build my present, while he only opens his mouth and my parents go out of their way to fulfill his wishes.

"Writing novels won't give you a decent future, so that laptop was more necessary for your brother, who is studying a real career." A dry laugh, tinged with bitter pain, escaped my lips as I heard my mother's absurd words. Does she really believe that farce, or does she simply refuse to see the reality that my brother is not studying anything?

"What career lasts more than ten years? My brother is almost thirty and is still stuck in his eternal study of business administration. Not even medicine requires such dedication in this territory! But of course, since it's 'him', everything is applause. If it were me, you would have disfigured me with blows already. Don't worry, as of today, your headaches because of me are over." I left the house without giving her one last look. If I do, I know my determination may crumble, and I can't allow myself to return to that house where I have only received suffering and one disappointment after another.

I walk towards the bus terminal, driven by a visceral need to flee, without a clear destination in mind. Only the idea of getting away from this place gives me strength. My frantic steps stopped abruptly when I collided with a body. I mumbled an automatic apology, and when I looked up, the surprise froze my blood: it's him, my brother.

"Where are you rushing off to, little sister?" The mockery and satisfaction are evident in his smile, a familiar combination that can only mean one thing: another whim financed or a crisis avoided. The proof was not long in coming when he took out of a bag from a technology store the unmistakable box of a new phone.

"Look, look, do you like my new toy?" He boasted, waving the phone like a trophy. A wave of fury ran through me. There it is, the fruit of my sacrifices, financing his unnecessary whim. A phone fresh out of the box, while the one he had, almost new, is discarded without further ado. And me, with my old phone struggling to survive its second anniversary.

"Well, although it's not the latest model, for next time you know, save faster and a little more to buy me the iPhone that I want and need so much." My cynical brother keeps chattering, oblivious to the fury that envelops me. I clenched my teeth until they hurt, a mixture of rage, frustration, and impotence at his insolence. Six months of hard work to buy the laptop I need so much, snatched by him and my mother for a capricious new phone. A purely malicious act, a cruel mockery to rub in his status as a favorite son and flaunt it before his friends and conquests.

"Enjoy it while it lasts, brother." Irony bites my words, holding back the avalanche of reproaches and insults that burn my throat and heart. I can't risk my escape being thwarted. My brother, lazy, liar, and parasite yes, but astute. He knows perfectly well that my departure would mean the end of his existence full of appearances, sustained by my jobs in conjunction with those of our father.

The decision is a lock bolted, with no possibility of going back. I arrived at the terminal and got on a bus to the border, fleeing from the family that has turned the definition of home into a minefield of suffering.

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"That ungrateful girl left," Laura babbled, downplaying the small backpack that Nayana had taken.

"She'll get over her tantrum, she has nowhere else to go. We are her only family, so she will come back, don't worry." Luciano frowned, uneasy. As much as Nayana got angry when they invaded her space and took her belongings, she had never threatened to leave. He doesn't like that novelty at all. Where will he get easy money now for his whims, to dazzle the girls and take them to bed, or to cover his constant debts?

"Mother, if Nayana really leaves and doesn't come back, we'll be in trouble. Remember that she and Dad are the ones who cover the expenses of the house." Luciano's words shook Laura, whose mind, clouded by resentment at Nayana's "lack of respect", had not considered that implication. However, she clung to the conviction that Nayana has no other refuge, that her tantrum will vanish before the harsh reality of loneliness and the lack of a roof.

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Happy afternoon ✨✨✨.

Here I leave you a bit of the protagonist.