The Immortal Prince

~Vaela

My feet scuff over rocks, gloved fingers gripping slick ice as I climb.

"Can you wait up? I'm going as fast as I can and am seconds away from breaking my ankle."

Turning, I look over my shoulder. My friend and companion for this trip, Eyla, struggles up a particularly steep part of the cliff, bundled in layers of clothing to the point I can't see her face.

"We are nearly there," I assure her, prying my numb hand between two slabs of rock, hoisting myself up onto a ridge.

"Exactly, so wait up."

With two feet planted on the flat edge of the ridge, I look out over the view. Sharp mountain peaks rear up into the sky, grazing the clouds. Below, a layer of hazy fog wraps around the thick base of the mountains, shrouding our view of the village tucked into the valley.

"I'm sorry, I'm just anxious." Leaning down, I grasp Eyla's awaiting hand, her feet scrambling on ice as she struggles up the crux of this climb.

This trip has been in planning for months now.

Only a few feet above us, a cave is situated snugly into the mountain. Rumours suggest that somewhere in this mountain, a pureblood immortal lives in solitude. Not only is he a pureblood, he is a Sin.

Eyla braces her hands on her knees, breath clouding in front of her face.

"You have..." I motion to my own face with my finger, grinning at all the snow that has gathered on her features.

"Yes, I know, you were kicking it all down on me. Jerk," she mutters, brushing the flakes away hurriedly. When she looks back up at me, I realise how poor her attempt was, snow still dusting her dark lashes and tinted cheeks.

I tilt my head, smiling. "It suits you."

She ignores me, tilting her head back to examine what's left of the climb.

"What do you think we are even going to find up here anyway?"

"An ancient burial site, maybe an old rendezvous point for powerful immortals from centuries ago, maybe a pond of eternal life..."

Truth is, I don't exactly know. I've researched this place to death, and yet no one can truly confirm it's origin, it's inhabitants, or what is hiding up there. Eyla and I are to be the first to explore it.

Eyla gapes at me, her large brown eyes practically swallowing her face. "Seriously?"

"You can't be having second thoughts...Not when we had to hunt down that crazed lady and get her to transport us all the way up here," I remind her.

I nudge my foot into the rock, testing it's ancient stability.

"Could she not have transported us right into the damn cave?" Eyla mutters, adjusting her gloves.

I don't divulge the manner of ridiculous things I had to do to conjure up enough money to pay the old hag off. She doesn't have the ease of magic like the pure bloods do, to transport herself and others around at leisure. I'm not even sure she's going to be there to take us back at dusk.

"It's shrouded by magic. That's why I'm so interested in being the first one up there," I exclaim, dragging myself up the rock, my stomach pressing painfully against its jagged surface. I hate ice. I hate snow. I had this.

"Fine, but if there a single vial of eternal life juice, it's mine."

Why Eyla is so interested in eternal life when she is an immortal whose lifespan lasts into the centuries, I'm not sure. I have other motivations.

"Alright, but if there are chests full of priceless jewels, they are mine," I tease, holding my forearm up to block against a stack of disturbed snow that rains down upon me.

"Okay. Maybe we can share," she grumbles.

With one last push, I'm up onto the final ridge. Eyla follows my route, a string of creative profanity joining her climb upward.

"Up here," I encourage, grabbing her wrist, tugging her up the final part. "Don't slip on the ice."

She's shuddering under my grip as I steady her. The height is dizzying, the thinning oxygen forcing me to calm my hurried breaths.

"It's freezing up here." Eyla turns, teetering on the narrow ridge. "I may not be able to die from falling from these heights as an Immortal, but it's sure going to impair my life for awhile."

"Then don't fall." I shrug.

She whips her head toward me, gaze narrowed. "Have I ever told you I'm grateful for you being the most annoying person I've ever met."

"Sarcasm isn't very becoming of you." I turn, scrambling up the short slope, revealing the mouth of a cave tucked into the mountain side.

"This is it..." Eyla marvels, swatting me away as I lean over to turn her flash light on.

"This is the entrance. Let's go in."

I hope she can't sense the wariness in my tone. Thick, pointed icicles hang at the entrance, daring us to enter the cave of shadows. Trudging through the snow, I wrap my fingers through Eyla's, until she halts abruptly.

"Ah...maybe I don't like this idea suddenly." Her eyes are squeezed shut.

I tug her hand. "You can stand out here in the cold if you like."

Her expression contorts, thoughtful.

"Maybe I can be convinced if there are pretty pure-bloods in there."

Pretty is one way of describing them, albeit I've never actually laid eyes upon one. Although the chances are low of us actually stumbling into one in this single cave, it is amusing to imagine Eyla trying to seduce one.

"There might be."

Eyla let's out a huffed breath. "Fine..."

We wander into the cave, flashlights beaming through the thick shadows. The wind vanishes, however the air is still bitterly cold, with an earthy taste to it. Ice crunches at our feet, echoing through the unnerving silence.

Eyla tugs her mouth covering off, while I pull my hood back. "This place is creepy."

"It has to have something in it, I mean look at the way this place is built. It can't be fully natural." I run my hand along one of the walls, feeling the solid structure. Under the ice, the faintest trace of unfamiliar material can be made out.

Eyla wraps her arms around herself, keeping her flashlight pinned straight ahead. "Just like it's not fully natural for us to have essentially climbed a mountain to get here."

"You didn't even have to do much climbing," I remind her.

My hand suddenly loses contact with the wall. Turning my light, I examine a gap in the wall. Beyond, an emerald hue is visible, outlining the walls to another part of the cave.

I snag Eyla's jacket with my fingers. "Follow me through here."

Turning, I squeeze myself through the gap, emerging into the other side to reveal an astounding sight.

"What is that?" Eyla gasps.

I grin. "Exactly what I was looking for."

Forged into the ground rock, is a small pool full of a rich, magical green liquid. Many shallow pools surround it, all full of this pristine substance. It emerges from a spot on the wall, dripping down slowly to the main pool, which drains into a crack in the floor.

"Is this the eternal life thing? If so, I may have a long life span, but I'm going to need to keep up with my pureblood boyfriend." Eyla steps forward, the reflection staining her skin.

I grab her arm, yanking her back. "Woah, don't touch it."

"Why not?" She tugs away from me, although examines the pool warily, rubbing her arm.

"It could be anything," I snap, squatting down to get a closer look. "This is magic remember, we can't take any chances."

It's not as if I blame her. The way the liquid ebbs fluidly along the rocks, the colour otherworldly, is hypnotic. This is not a creation from nature, but from magic.

Eyla rubs her gloved fingers along her lips, thoughtful. "Then why did we come up here?"

"To prove this exists. I mean, surely pure-bloods come up here." I twist, examining the rest of the cave. The alluring reflection of the pool traces the jaggered walls and ceilings of the cave structure, revealing nothing more magical.

"Let's go explore the rest of the cave then," Eyla drawls after a long moment, turning back toward the narrow entrance.

As I raise from my crouch, my foot slips, the edge of my boot skimming over the water. Droplets spray up my pants, just as I scramble back, knocking my knee against the sharp edge of the rock.

I yelp, the liquid so cold it burns my skin, a few droplets landing on an exposed part of my ankle. Pulling my pant leg up, I examine the spot. Stunning, neon liquid beads atop my skin, then dribbles before being soaked into my skin

Eyla's face is muddled with horror. "Are you okay?"

For the briefest of moments, I'm knocked back, the ghost feeling like my blood has completely stopped moving in my veins halting my breath at my lips.

And then everything resumes, something seeming to have lifted itself off me. The world around my buzzes. My tongue tastes sour, my ears ringing and my skin burns with the low temperature.

"Something is wrong," I breathe, tugging my gloves off my hands.

"What are you doing?" Eyla stands a few feet back, examining me with caution, wary I'm about to transform into some ranging beast.

Leaning back, I fold my pant leg up until it reveals my knee. The wound is nasty, blood dribbling down my leg from a layered mess of uneven scratches and gashes.

I just stare at it, seconds passing as horror so cold, so bitter it's heavy in the way it settles in my stomach, the weight of it revealing a crushing revelation.

"I'm mortal again," I whisper.

~Vaela

Morality is a punishing thing.

Been there. Done that. Died young, spent nearly a century in death before arriving here. The immortal realm, where I am to live out a not so immortal existence, as I shall eventually die. The name must have sounded nice in its creation.

The only true immortality belongs to the pure-bloods.

Dark, twisted individuals with magic beyond their means. Magic to crush realms, to torture and abuse.

Eyla's voice echoes through my subconscious, jolting me from my vacant thoughts.

"No...No, no Vaela, tell me you're lying." She's at my side now, shaking me. I look up at her, tresses of dark hair spilling out from her woollen hat, pure alarm in her eyes.

"It's a mortality spell," I whisper.

With my backside on craggy rock, the puffy wound on my knee still seeping blood, I'm painfully aware of my sudden morality. It should have healed...I shouldn't be so damn cold.

Eyla blinks. "That's a thing?"

"Well of all places a mortality spell will be located, surely it would be here." I throw my hands up, gesturing at our environment, at the sinister pool.

"Okay, you can stop reminding me we are in a creepy cave up a mountain...Oh great, the cold is probably going to kill you." Eyla covers her hands with her mouth, visibly trying to stop her gaze from straying to my leg.

I lean back, although quickly decide against it as a particularly sharp edge nips at my vulnerable skin. "No shit, Eyla."

She pauses.

"What if I..."

"What?"

"You know. What if I..." She raises her arms, shaping her hands like she's clutching a ball, then twists her wrists, wincing at the same time.

My eyes narrow. "What are you doing?"

She drops her arms back to her lap, huffing out a breath. "What if I snapped your neck?"

"And what if I don't get a second chance at life?" I gasp out, edging away from her. Not to mention, I'm not spending another near century in Death's realm, working toward immortality. There has to be another solution...

Her nose scrunches up as she clambers to her feet. "Fine, let's check the rocks and see if there are any hints inscribed there."

"Oh, so now you're the sarcastic one?"

"I get snappy under pressure, alright? It's not every day I watch my best friend get turned into a mortal again in quite literally the worst place ever!" She whines.

Rolling my eyes, I prop myself up with enough leverage to be hauled to my feet by Eyla. I'm unsteady, weak. The stinging from my wound is distracting, although not as much as the cold nagging at me, crawling under what I thought was warm clothing.

"You go...You go get help and I'll stay here," I direct helplessly, pressing my teeth together to avoid them chattering.

"There's nothing to start a fire, you'll die."

"And if I go outside I'll die."

Eyla and I just stare at each other. Despite her breath clouding in front of her face, her cheeks are still crimson, her limbs agile. I imagine all healthy colour has seeped from my face, leaving me as nothing more than a cold, shuddering mess.

"I forgot how fragile mortals were," Eyla says distastefully, forehead creasing as she looks between me and the magical pool.

I tilt my knee. "Don't forget my wound...Infection?"

"I even forgot what an infection was." She presses her fingers against her temples, squeezing her eyes shut. "Okay, let me concentrate."

She doesn't even allow herself a moment before her eyes pop open again, alarmed.

"What if there really is a pure blood up here and it can smell your blood?" I can't tell if she sounds disgusted, or intrigued. I'm not in the mood to fall prey to a pure-blood just to satisfy Eyla's fantasies.

I let my head fall back. "What kind of research have you done?"

"Admittedly, nothing..." She rubs the back of her neck sheepishly.

Pure-bloods, created with the purpose of balancing nature, are the personification of everything that entails living. Seven Sins and Seven Virtues. I have my theories of which pure-blood lives up here, if any, and they aren't a Virtue.

"For a girl so willing to seduce one, you don't know an awful lot," I mutter, watching fresh blood trail down my leg, dribbling onto the rock.

They call him the Immortal Prince. The one I think is up here, I mean.

Naturally, when creatures as immortal as the pureblood's, who remain unseen to us commoner's eyes exist, legends are created. The Immortal Prince...Well, his are dark, and cruel.

If I had common sense, I wouldn't be up here.

Then again, if I had common sense, I wouldn't have slipped into a magical pool and turned myself mortal.

"I never said I was a good person..." I hear Eyla say from the cusp of attention.

I brush off the stray stones and pebbles stuck to my pants. "I'm going to look around, there has to be something in here to help."

"Wait! Vaela, what if there really is a pureblood up here?" Eyla cuts in front of me, gripping my shoulders.

"Then they can help us?"

I push past her, picking my way toward this room's exit. My chance of surviving this is already slim, so I'll take help, even if it comes in the form of a dangerous monster emerging from the shadows.

Eyla follows me out into the main part of the cave. Was it always this cold? My skin burns, my entire being protesting. I really am going to die.

"But they will be a Sin," Eyla asks, her anxious tone echoing across the walls. "What if it's Ira? Oh no...I can't meet Wrath, not today."

"From what I've read of Wrath, they don't live in some desolate cave," I note.

The cave thins out the more we walk, the dark walls frozen with ice. The heel of my palm smacks the top of my flashlight as my light flickers. This isn't going to be good.

"If it's going to be anyone, it's going to be..."

I draw off, not wanting to say his name, as if it may summon him.

"What?" Eyla's eyes widen, expression strained. "Vaela, what?"

I stop, coming to a fork in the cave. Shining my flickering light one way, I see nothing promising through the cloud of my breath fogging up in front of me. The other side reveals little too.

"Never mind, you go that way and I'll go this way." I point to the left, eyeing my skeptical friend.

She shakes her head, jacket rustling. "Uh ah-"

"Eyla, I have hours, if that, before I freeze to death. Mind making this quick?" I snap.

I don't mind to sound irritable, but the cold is so vicious it's all I can think about. I don't even have it in me to be worried about stumbling into this Immortal Prince on our hunt for some kind of salvation, nor what his intentions may be upon finding us.

The contours of Eyla's narrow face appear gaunt with the limited light. "Ugh, fine. Please don't slip on ice and crack your head open."

"I'll try my best," I drawl, turning to the right.

Eyla's scuffed footsteps down the other passageway are comforting enough, as I wander warily. With my patch of available light getting smaller with each passing minute, I opt for dragging my gloved hand against the walls, guiding myself across the treacherous terrain.

Suddenly, my finger knocks painfully against a random grove in the wall. Wincing, I tug my hand away, shaking it as I swing my light over to examine the inconsistency.

Strangely, slabs of wood are fitted neatly into the rock, of which I examine curiously.

"Eyla! Get over here," I call out.

She rushes over, swearing under her breath as she hops from rock to rock. I keep my light trained on the wood, and what appears to be a steel door handle etched into it.

"What is it?" Eyla is at my side, breathing heavily as she looks over my find.

When she realises we are looking at a door, we exchange opposing expressions.

Frankly, I'm relieved. I don't care what this leads to, it could be salvation. Eyla looks blatantly petrified, even taking an uncomfortable step backwards, her light quivering from her unsteady hand.

"You want to try it?" I motion to it.

Eyla's brow is so furrowed it could be a permanent fixture to her pretty face. "You brought me up here, you do it."

"I'm mortal!"

"Fine, geez."

She wrestles past me, gripping the door handle. It opens with ease, not locked or anything. Shining our lights down, it reveals another section of the cave. This time the ground is worn down and the walls are smoothed back.

Eyla steps forward, only to stumble back like she's been hit.

"Weird...I can't get through." She presses her hand up, laying it flat against an invisible wall. More magic, evidently.

"Are you sure? Let me try."

I'm not ready to give up on this so easily, so I step to the threshold, expecting to be shoved back by magic like Eyla, however I step through, meeting no resistance.

Turning around, I hold my hands out. "Would you look at that..."

"It's because you're mortal," Eyla gasps. The enigmatic nature of the magic in this cave system knows no bounds. I get a feeling, however, that it's not natural. Whoever is through this hallway intended to keep immortals out.

I step out of the hallway, pulling the door closed. "Okay, then we close the door and never speak of this again."

"What? What if help is down that dark, super creepy hallway?" Eyla drifts off, but pushes the door open regardless.

It creaks ominously, the sound carrying down through the darkness. Something is down there, lurking in the shadows, awaiting exploration. I step through the threshold again, but pause, looking back at a quivering Eyla.

"Are you thinking what I am?" I whisper.

"I know I joked about a pureblood husband, but I think I change my mind." Eyla starts pacing, pale and withdrawn suddenly.

I move down the hallway slightly, the darkness soaking up the entire beam from my flashlight. I don't need to go far, before the slightest wave of warmth rushes over me, cutting through the cold that encases my skin.

"It's warm down there..." I tell Eyla.

I know it's wrong...I shouldn't keep edging my way into the darkness like this, but the warmth is compelling, reliving all the pain the cold has inflicted on me.

"Go, if you're going to," Eyla exclaims, pressing herself against the wall of magic. "But if you're trapped, I can't get you out."

My feet tap through puddles, the ice from the walls having melted the deeper into the hallway I traverse. The palms of my hands skate along the smooth surface of the narrow walls, keeping my bearings with me.

"Just a few steps." I can't tell if I'm convincing myself or Eyla. I should turn around, find another way to save myself...But I can't physically bring myself to turn away from it.

I glance back to see Eyla throwing her hands up. "I'm going to be friendless."

Suddenly, my head slams against a wood structure, knocking me back.

I lay my palm flat against my forehead, wincing. "Fuck."

That hurt way more than it should have. Damn mortality.

Lifting my hand again, I run it over the wood, until my fingers knock against the handle. "It's another door."

"Open it," Eyla calls out. Oh, so now she is on board.

The door, like the other, is unlocked, gliding open with little resistance. More warmth rushes over me, and I nearly collapse. From what I can see peeking through the gap, the making of a home is laid out, the cave extending from the hallway into a magnificent space that I can tell is large, even with the shadows masking it.

I pull the door closed again, looking back at Eyla. "It's like it's someone's home."

"The pureblood!" she calls out. I huff out a breath. I'm hoping that's not the case, and instead, it's a kind cave-dweller that will grant me refuge until the lady returns to take Eyla and I home.

"I'm going in," I inform her hesitantly. I want her to tell me this is a bad idea, to summon me back, but she doesn't. "Give me a few minutes. If I don't come back, leave, and get help."

I can see her nod, so holding my breath, I open the door again, and wander inside.

Only to see a man standing in the centre of the space, completely naked.

~Vaela

"Ah!" My palms slap over my eyes, the image of the man burned into the back of my eyelids.

"Who are you?" The voice questions. It's a deep, rich sound that spreads over me, slightly accented.

I'm imagining this.

I must be. There is no conceivable way that I just saw a tall man with silver tattoos standing at what I now realise is a doorway. Thankfully his bare chest was all I got an eyeful of, and not any lower down...

My fingers part slightly as I peek through them. I am not imagining this.

The man is now fully dressed, which took him only mere moments. His dark shirt reveals the silver tattoos I thought were a trick of the light, patterned in an unfamiliar way.

They aren't, however, as striking his eyes, which now regard me irritably. They too, are silver, although have a lighter hue than his tattoos. He's unlike anything I've ever seen before.

This isn't a cave dweller...He's far too pretty.

"You were naked..." I whisper, mortified.

"This is my home," he responds.

There isn't malice, like I would have expected from my intrusion. Instead, he's rather stoic, unintimidated by my presence...If I had half his stature, I too wouldn't find me to be much of a threat.

And then it hits me.

"Pureblood?" My voice quivers, as my eyes trace over him.

I don't dare say Immortal Prince. There's no confirmation of who he is, but he owns that title. I can even imagine a crown atop his obsidian hair, silver and jewelled.

He examines me quietly. "Mortal?"

"How did you..."

"No one can get past the magic I shrouded this place in." He gestures to the door, now ajar, which I stumbled through. "Unless, well, they are mortal."

This was a mistake. Would he make a lunge at me if I tried to run, or would he ensnare me with magic? His hands are seated casually in his pockets, but his gaze studies me with unrelenting pressure.

"Are you trapping me?" It's not as if running would do me any good. Would the cold get me first, or would I slip and hit my head against a rock? So now I'm stuck in a pureblood's home, mortal, and with nothing around to defend myself.

He dips his head forward, silken black waves brushing against his brows."You walked into my home."

"I touched your damn mortal pool out there and now I'm bleeding out the knee and so cold I don't think I'm going to have fingers next time I check!" I'm yelling, at this point.

His gaze drops to where my pant leg is rolled up, revealing my gruesome wound. The blood has dried, but not before having trailed around my calf and into my shoe.

"You seriously-"

"Climbed up here and fell into the pool by accident, and now my hair will likely grey..." I paw at my face, as if I can feel wrinkles beginning to show already.

The pure blood sighs through their nose. "This is awfully tiresome. You can go now."

He extends his hand toward the door, brow quirked.

I just gape at him. Maybe it's because I'm so hopeless that I've accepted death may alleviate my misery, or I'm finally relieved of incoming hyperthermia, but I'm not frightened of him anymore.

And I'm most definitely not frightened of the fireplace I inch closer toward.

Strangely, this dark cave is inviting, albeit a bit imposing. The natural ceiling is tall, curved over into the walls, which are shade lighter and smoothed back. I don't remember smoke coming out the top of the mountain, although the fire blazes, heating the space. And the furnishings are a surprise too. Not sure what I expected, but this isn't it.

"You're the one with a creepy spell pool," I grumble.

He takes a step forward, my entire body tensing as a result. "You climbed up here, and fell into it. I'm failing to see how that has anything to do with me."

Does he have to look this good when he appears moments away from killing me?

I've heard legends about purebloods and their appearances before, but they always felt too exaggerated to believe. An old friend told me the creater of our lands hand-crafted their faces as the first instance of perfection, and since then the purebloods have used mortal proclivity for weakness in the face of beauty to ensure and manipulate them.

All of a sudden, the legend has become very believable.

"Proximity," I retort. "I need someone to blame, and it falls on you."

He tilts his head back and forth thoughtfully. He looks as though he's restraining himself from tossing me against the wall and just being done with me.

"To answer your question, yes, I am a pureblood."

Dread, like cold poison, shreds it's way through me. I've spoken too much, dug myself a premature grave. Were the effects of this fireplace on my shuddering limbs not like a drug, I would be out of here. But wilfully subjecting myself to the bitter frost once again seems equally dooming.

"Are you going to kill me?" I whisper.

There's a cruel tint to his eyes. "Tempted."

"I'm sorry, my head is spinning," I rest my hand against my head, squeezing my eyes shut. "And your fire feels amazing."

His gaze dips to my knee. "You're probably going to die."

He doesn't want to kill me. I imagine it would be no more than a flick of his finger and I would be dead, so he's not a murderer. That's one legend about the Immortal Prince that stands to be a lie. As with the one about him luring poor girls into his cave...He wants me gone, at the very least.

"Can't you..." I break off, testing his patience.

He angles his head, "What?"

"Help me?"

"You walked into my home, blamed me for your own negligence, and now you want me to help you?" When he says it aloud, I realise how unravelled I sound. An infection is likely setting into my knee already.

He steps forward, gait far too graceful considering his staggering build. The closer he gets to me, the more aware I come of his overwhelming beauty. A dimple is etched into his left cheek, complimenting his raised cheekbones and straight jawline. The fine contours of his face alone must be created by magic, because it can't be possible to look like this naturally.

"I could just kill you." His tone is light, but I can't tell if he's joking or not.

My throat tightens, painfully dry. "You're a Sin, aren't you?"

He dips his head. "Yes."

I suppress a shudder, flexing and unflexing my fingers as I consider my next move. Some part of me, buried deep, is gleeful. So many people doubted this expedition would be worth it, doubted that the immortal Prince actually lived up here. I've proved them wrong, and finally doubted all the months of study I've put into this trip.

"Surely you have that transportation magic that the old lady had that got my friend and I up here in the first place," I say hopefully.

"I do."

I take a step forward, despite my better judgment. "Then take me back, please."

I'm not sure how much begging is required to persuade an Immortal Sin, but I'm willing to fall to my battered knee and plead with him to not only spare my life, but return me to my home, where another fireplace lies in wait for my freezing form.

"You'll get torn to shreds for being a mortal," he notes, face drawn. "You're better off jumping off the cliff and hoping Death will accept you again."

He's not going to help me. I need to reason with him, make him realise I'm a person, that I'm real and standing in front of him needing help. "My name is Vaela...I can't risk dying."

He's silent, as his gaze sweeps over me again. My entire body tenses as a result, as if he can see under my clothes, under my skin to my now mortal soul.

"I don't particularly like mortals," he mutters drily.

"You don't know me..." This is promising.

"Fine, sit in front of that fire and heat up," he says after a while.

My body draws towards the fire, eager for it's warmth, until it hits me. In my desperation, I've forgotten my best friend, waiting out in the cold for me, probably thinking I've been murdered. A few moments ago, she could have been very right about that.

I grimace. "Wait, I need to tell my friend that I'm okay."

The Pureblood frowns. "Friend?"

Snatching my flashlight which I dropped upon entry, I race back down the rocky hallway, ignoring the bite of cold as I stagger unevenly with my injured knee. The end door is ajar, my failing light flickering against it. When I push it open, emerging back into the main part of the cave, my heart plummets in my chest.

Eyla is gone.

"Oh no..." I grit my teeth, crying not to let panic overwhelm me.

Stalking back and forth down each fork in the road, I look for Eyla, until I realise I'm not going to survive this cold any longer. She gave up and returned home, likely thinking I'm dead. Now I'm stranded up here, melting ice from the cave roof dripping down onto my head.

My gaze falls back to the door, to where beyond, the Immortal Prince awaits.

With whatever last shred of hope I had now ripped out of me, I wander slowly back down the narrow hallway, emerging back into the purebloods warm home again.

He's standing by the fireplace, arms crossed over the chest as he faces the blazing flames, shadows crawling around his impressive frame.

"Bad news." I chew the edge of my lip as he turns around, eyes darkening.

"You're a mortal, I don't think it gets any worse," he retorts, the slightest hint of a smile playing at his lips.

"My friend, who I came up here with, is gone," I tell him. I'm unsure of whether I should weep, or scream. Both seem tempting, although neither would put me in any greater favour than the man who my entire life now relies on.

He looks toward the door, brow furrowed with concern. "Already?"

"I told her to get help if I took more than five minutes...Didn't know she would be so literal." I press my hand against my forehead, beginning to pace, even with my knee protesting as it does.

When I look back at the Prince, he's watching me with a calm expression, although his eyes suggest otherwise. They are ablaze with unreadable emotion, his full lips settled in a line.

"My name is Hale," he murmurs.

He doesn't offer his hand, and he doesn't need to, because there is no way I would dare touch a pureblood. Even if his skin does look perfectly unflawed and temptingly...I shake my head. What am I thinking?

"Hale? You really are that Sin." I twist the thin silver ring around my finger, which colour now seems dull when I look at Hale's tattoo's and eyes.

"Sloth," he affirms, tucking his hands behind his back. "You know, the lack of feeling, being very passive etc. That's why I haven't killed you yet."

"Didn't know it was so literal," I exclaim quietly. Maybe my research is for nothing, that I've been wrong about purebloods this entire time...

"It's not always, but I suppose me living in this cave speaks for itself." He extends his arms, giving me unspoken permission to look anywhere other than him without fear of being attacked, as unreasonable as I'm coming to realise that thought is.

It truly is a stunning space, considering it's in a cave.

A few doors come off the main area, likely leading to other rooms. The room seems to be lit with magic, as I see no bulbs anywhere in sight. There is even art hung on the walls, all depicting various landscapes in a variety of biomes. He must have collected these throughout his years of being an Immortal Pureblood.

"It's a beautiful cave," I tell him honestly.

"Hmm..."

"So you're not going to kill me?" I ask sheepishly. Hale studies me, and then my knee. I just stand, like I'm bare to him.

He exhales, turning toward one of the doors. "Not tonight..."