The night was dark, and the air was thick with tension. Weeks had passed since the confrontation by the village pond, but the scars of that night had only deepened. The blood moon hung heavy in the sky, its crimson light casting everything in eerie shades of red, like the world itself was holding its breath. The clearing, once a peaceful place nestled in the ancient woods, now stood as a battleground, where hearts and swords would clash.
Elric stood tall, his jaw clenched, eyes narrowed at the man facing him—Alderon. The two princes, both bound by duty, honor, and their growing feelings for the same two women, could no longer ignore the pull of destiny. The lines had been drawn.
Behind them, on opposite sides of the clearing, stood Selene and Elara, their gazes locked on the two men but occasionally flickering toward each other, just as conflicted. The rivalry between them had only grown sharper since that fateful night. Selene, with her wild fire, had already tasted the kiss of Alderon, the darker prince. And Elara, with her composed elegance, had once been the chosen heroine of Elric’s heart. But now? Now no one knew who belonged to whom.
Wait, what? This isn’t supposed to happen. Whatever. Just breathe, Bree. This isn’t a complete derailment. Right?
Alderon’s voice cut through the silence, low and dangerous. “It seems there’s only one way to settle this, Elric. You’ve been circling around like a hawk for weeks. I’ve had enough.”
Elric’s hand tightened on the hilt of his sword, the moonlight glinting off its polished steel. “I don’t want to fight you, Alderon. But I won’t back down. This isn’t just about the women. It’s about what’s right.”
Selene shifted slightly, her heart thundering in her chest. She glanced at Elara, who stood cool and composed, though there was no mistaking the fire in her eyes. Both of them knew what this was about—it wasn’t just a duel over love. It was a battle for control of the story, of their fates, and no one was going to walk away unscathed.
Okay, this is getting intense. But it’s fine, right? I can fix this. They’re not going to have some existential showdown. Not yet, anyway.
Alderon stepped forward, his cape billowing behind him dramatically in the wind—because obviously there was wind now. “You’ve been pretending you don’t feel it, Elric. But you do. You know as well as I do that this story doesn’t belong to you anymore.”
Elric’s eyes flicked to Selene, then to Elara. His heart twisted in his chest. He cared for them both, drawn to their strength, their beauty, and yet… he couldn’t deny that something had shifted. “I feel more than you know, Alderon. But that doesn’t mean I’ll let you win. Not without a fight.”
The love triangle—no, the love square—was tangled beyond recognition. Both men felt something for both women, and both women were just as conflicted. The kiss between Alderon and Selene in the garden still lingered in the air like a specter, casting long shadows over everything. Elric, who had once been Elara’s hero, now found himself caught between old loyalties and new desires. And Elara? She wasn’t backing down either.
The blood moon loomed above, a witness to the inevitable clash.
Alderon sneered, drawing his sword. “Then let’s settle it here, brother. Let’s see who the story favors.”
Elric nodded, his face hard as stone, and with a single movement, he unsheathed his sword, its blade gleaming red in the moonlight. The duel was on.
Oh boy. Nothing says “this could end badly” like two princely types about to stab each other in the name of love. Or is it honor? Or maybe just confusion?
The sound of steel meeting steel echoed through the clearing as the two men clashed. Each strike was filled with a lifetime of resentment, frustration, and desire. Elric fought with precision, every movement deliberate, calculated. Alderon, however, fought with raw emotion, each blow harder than the last, as if trying to break more than just Elric’s guard. They were both skilled, evenly matched, and it quickly became clear that this wasn’t going to end without blood.
From the sidelines, Selene’s breath caught in her throat. She hated this—hated that the men were fighting over her and Elara, as if they were prizes to be won. But at the same time, she couldn’t deny the pull in her chest. Her heart raced each time Elric parried, and her pulse quickened with every counterattack from Alderon. She wanted both of them. She didn’t want either of them. She was utterly torn.
Elara, for her part, remained statuesque, but her heart was in turmoil. She had once been the center of Elric’s world, and now she wasn’t sure where she stood. But there was something undeniably magnetic about Alderon, despite—or perhaps because of—the kiss he’d shared with Selene. The rivalry between her and Selene had reached a boiling point. It wasn’t just about the men; it was about who they were in the story, and who was the true heroine.
“Is this really how it’s going to end?” Elara whispered, more to herself than to anyone else.
I don’t even know the answer to that, girl.
The duel continued, faster, more desperate with each strike. Alderon’s blade grazed Elric’s arm, drawing blood, but Elric didn’t flinch. He lunged forward, locking swords with Alderon as they struggled against each other, faces mere inches apart.
“I won’t let you have her,” Elric growled through clenched teeth.
Alderon smirked, sweat dripping down his brow. “Which one, Elric? Selene? Or Elara?”
Elric faltered for a moment, the question hanging in the air like a sword above them. It was a question neither of them could answer. They were fighting for both, and for neither, and it was tearing them apart.
And then—
The sound of hooves.
Oh, no. Not him. Not now!
The ground rumbled beneath them, the duel momentarily forgotten as both men turned toward the sound. Through the trees, a figure galloped into view, his cape billowing behind him—even more dramatically than Alderon’s, if such a thing was possible.
Broody? No, no, no, no, no, NO.
Prince Broody burst into the clearing atop his white steed, one hand holding the reins, the other… well, the other hand was clutching his signature pumpkin spice latte. His dark hair fell perfectly across his forehead, and his expression was one of mild annoyance.
“Alright, what is going on here?” Broody called, slowing his horse to a stop. He took a long, exaggerated sip from his latte before dismounting in one fluid motion. “Duels? Blood moons? Seriously, Bree?”
Okay, this is spiraling out of control. Why is Broody here? Why is he acting like he knows both of them? And ME?! I didn’t write this! Did I? Focus, Bree. You’re the author. You’re in control…
Broody shot a glance at the sky, rolling his eyes. “Sure, sure. But let’s be real. You knew I’d be back.”
Elric blinked, utterly baffled. “Who in the Eternal Kingdom are you?”
Alderon frowned, equally confused. “This isn’t your fight.”
Broody smirked, tossing his cup aside and drawing his sword with a flourish. “Oh, I think it is. See, you two have been running this love triangle—sorry, love square—for weeks now, and frankly? You’re making a mess of it.” He pointed his sword at Elric, then Alderon. “You both think you’re the brooding prince archetype? You haven’t seen brooding until you’ve met me.”
Selene’s breath caught, her gaze locking on Broody. There was something about him. A pull, as undeniable as the ones she felt for Elric and Alderon.
Oh, great. Here we go.
Elara’s eyes narrowed. “Who do you think you are?”
Broody grinned, his dark eyes gleaming in the red moonlight. “I’m Prince Broody. The original.”
The tension in the clearing crackled as everyone—everyone—felt the weight of his words. The duel had been disrupted, the love square now thrown even further into chaos by the arrival of the original, deleted prince. And with the blood moon casting its ominous glow over everything, it was clear that nothing would ever be the same again.
Broody flipped his hair back, his smirk widening. “Now, who wants to fight over me?”
Oh my god, he’s not helping!
And just like that, the battle lines blurred. The pull between all of them—Elric, Alderon, Selene, Elara, and now Broody—tightened like a noose. Love, loyalty, and desire all crashing together under the blood moon’s baleful gaze.
Okay, deep breaths. Everything’s fine. This is fine. I can fix this… Right?
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