Married To Darkness-Chapter 379: Finding His Ole Body

Meanwhile back in the Castle right after the group traveled, Audrey Velthorne headed out.

The soft glow of candlelight flickered against the polished marble floors of the royal chambers. The night was quiet, save for the occasional crackle of the hearth. But inside, tension hummed like a taut bowstring.

Audrey sat on the edge of the king’s silk-draped bed, her hair cascading over her shoulders, her emerald eyes fixed intently on her husband. The king—a man more cautious than courageous—stood by the window, staring out into the vast, darkened city as if the night air held the answer to his dilemma.

"My love," Audrey murmured, her voice smooth as honey, "I think it’s time you release Jaron."

The king stiffened, his fingers curling against the windowsill. He didn’t turn to face her.

Audrey exhaled softly, shifting closer. "It’s been long enough, don’t you think? The witch lady and her husband are no longer in the castle. Jaron has paid his price. Keeping him locked up like a rabid animal—it’s unbecoming of a ruler as just as you."

The king scoffed under his breath. "Just? Is that what you think of me?"

She rose to her feet, the silk of her gown whispering against the floor. With careful steps, she approached him, resting a delicate hand on his tense shoulder. "Yes," she lied sweetly. "You are wise, merciful. But keeping him locked away... it’s cruel."

The king’s jaw tightened. "Cruel?" His voice was barely above a whisper.

Audrey seized the hesitation in his tone like a hunter spotting prey. She turned him gently to face her, her eyes gleaming.

"He was imprisoned because he dared to play with the redhaired princess," she reminded him. "But she and Lord Alaric are gone. What more is there to punish? What harm can he do now?"

The king’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. His gaze darted away. "Alaric will—"

"Alaric isn’t here," she pressed, voice softer now. "And even if he were, do you truly think he would question your decision? You are the king. You rule these lands, my love. Not him."

She let the words sink in, let them weave into the tangled web of his insecurities.

The king’s fingers twitched.

He turned fully toward her now, searching her face, looking for some hidden motive. "You’ve never cared about Jaron this intensely before," he murmured. "Why now?"

Audrey smiled but she was fuming inside, what did he mean by taht? that was her son!, tilting her head. "Because I care about you. And I see the burden this is placing on you. The people whisper about it—about how their king is keeping a man locked away for mere fun." She traced her fingers down the sleeve of his robe. "If Alaric were to return and see you ruled fairly... he would have no reason to interfere, don’t you think?"

The king was quiet.

Audrey knew she had him.

Still, she feigned patience, allowing the silence to stretch between them. Then, finally—

"Fine," he muttered.

Audrey’s lips curled.

"Have the guards release him," the king sighed. "But only under watch. I don’t want him running his mouth the moment he steps outside the dungeon."

"Of course," she said sweetly. "You are wise, my king."

But as she turned away, a satisfied glint in her eye, she didn’t know that when they opened the dungeon doors, Jaron wouldn’t be there to walk free.

The air was thick with the stench of damp stone and decay as the guards led the way down the spiraling staircase into the depths of the castle dungeon. The torches flickered dimly, casting eerie shadows along the cold, rough walls.

Audrey wrinkled her nose but kept her composure. She had spent days convincing the king—her husband, the ever-cautious, ever-fearful ruler—to let Jaron out. It was unfair, she had said. He had been imprisoned for too long. The couple he offended were gone. There was no need to keep him locked up like a caged beast.

And after much pleading, much honeyed persuasion, the king—cowardly thing that he was—had finally relented.

Now, as she walked alongside her brother-in-law, Jake, and his wife, Irene, Audrey felt a strange unease curling in her stomach.

Something was off.

The closer they got to Jaron’s cell, the more the air smelled... wrong. Stale. Like something rotting.

Irene tugged on Jake’s sleeve, her brows furrowed. "Do you smell that?"

Jake sniffed the air and made a face. "What in the gods’ name...?"

Audrey waved her hand. "Dungeons always smell bad. Let’s just get him and—"

The dimly lit stone corridor of the dungeon was thick with the scent of damp earth and something else—something metallic, something wrong. The torches along the walls flickered as the heavy wooden doors groaned open.

Audrey stepped inside first, her silk robes trailing over the grime-coated floor, her expression poised but her hands trembling slightly at her sides. The king followed closely behind, flanked by his guards, while Irene and Jace lingered at the entrance, uncertain.

"Jaron?" Audrey called, her voice echoing through the cold, lifeless air.

No response.

One of the guards stepped forward, torch raised high, illuminating the cell.

And then—

A gasp. A choked scream.

Audrey’s breath caught in her throat as she staggered back, one hand over her mouth, the other clutching the king’s sleeve.

Jaron lay slumped against the far wall. His skin, dry and sunken. His mouth slightly parted, revealing stiffened lips. His once muscular body was now skeletal, as if all the life had been drained from him.

"No..." Irene whispered, her legs giving way beneath her.

Audrey’s stomach turned to ice.

She rushed forward—and what she saw stole the very breath from her lungs.

Jaron was sitting against the wall, his head slumped forward.

But he was not alive.

His body was dry. Withered. His skin clung to his bones like parchment, hollowed, drained, a grotesque shell of what had once been a man. His lips were cracked, his eyes sunken, his fingers curled inward like talons.

He had been dead for weeks.

But how?

He was alive when they locked him in!

Jake let out a strangled sound, stumbling forward. "Jaron—Jaron, wake up! This isn’t funny!"

He dropped to his knees and shook his brother’s lifeless body.

Audrey’s hands flew to her mouth. "No—no, no, no, this isn’t possible. This is—he was supposed to be here—alive!"

Irene was screaming, clutching her hair.

The guards looked like ghosts themselves, frozen in horror.

Jake’s voice cracked as he shouted, "SOMEONE EXPLAIN THIS TO ME!"

No one could.

The king—who had followed at a distance, reluctant and wary—gasped when he saw the sight before him. His knees nearly buckled.

"I—he—I didn’t—" His voice trembled.

Audrey turned to him, fury and fear clashing in her chest.

"You let him rot here!" she shrieked. "You left him to die!"

The king shook his head violently. "No—I had the guards—food, water—I ordered them to keep him alive!" He looked around desperately. "Guards! Tell them! Tell them I gave orders—"

The guards stammered, their faces white.

"We—we did, Your Majesty! We checked on him—he was alive just a few days ago! We—we swear it!"

Lies. It had to be lies.

Jake’s voice was a wail of agony. "HE Looks like he’s BEEN DEAD FOR A MONTH! LOOK AT HIM! LOOK AT HIM!"

Audrey’s breathing hitched.

She had seen corpses before—seen men executed, seen blood spill—but never like this.

Never so unnatural.

This was not decay.

This was something else.

Something unnatural.

Her heart pounded. Something dark had happened in this dungeon.

And the worst part?

They had no idea what it was.

Audrey spun toward the guards, her voice shrill. "Get him out of there!"

Two guards hesitated before stepping forward, unbolting the cell door with a loud clang. One reached down, but as soon as he grabbed Jaron’s shoulder, his body crumbled, slipping bonelessly to the floor.

"What in the gods’ names..." the king murmured, his voice shaking.

And then they saw it.

The bite marks.

Dark, precise punctures, right on his wrist. Two neat little holes, as if—

Fangs.

Silence crashed down upon them like a heavy wave.

Jace, normally stone-faced, took a staggering step back, eyes darting between the body and the others.

Irene’s breathing grew ragged as she clutched at her chest. "No. No, no, no, what is that? What—"

Before anyone could answer, one of the guards took an uneasy step forward, lifting his torch to illuminate the other cells.

Another scream.

They weren’t alone.

There were more.

Bodies.

Slumped figures in the shadows, unmoving, wrist after wrist marred with identical bite marks.

Some of them had clearly been there for a long time, their flesh dried and stiff. Others... fresher.

Audrey bolted. She turned on her heel, lifting her skirts as she ran for the exit. "Get out! Get out now!"