They called her Lady Nyx—Mistress of the Garden of Thorns.
The mere whisper of her name among the Matriarchs made the air tremble. When Lyra handed Kade over to her at the Temple gates, she did so with a smile that barely masked a warning.
"She will not go easy on you," Lyra said.
"I don't want her to," Kade replied, jaw clenched.
He didn't know what had gotten into him. The longer he stayed on this cursedly beautiful island, the more something primal stirred within him. Last night had lit a fire—and now he was beginning to crave the burn.
Lady Nyx stood tall at the entrance to her domain, wrapped in sheer black silk, her skin marked with deep red tattoos that shimmered faintly under the sun. Her eyes were violet, unnaturally bright, and impossibly calm.
"You are the chosen man?" she asked, voice like velvet drawn over steel.
"I'm Kade."
Her eyes narrowed. "We shall see if the island chose well."
She turned without another word, gliding through twisted iron gates into a garden unlike anything Kade had ever seen.
---
The Garden of Thorns was alive.
Crimson vines slithered along stone paths. Black roses bloomed and wilted in seconds, only to bloom again. Statues of men—naked, contorted, and lifelike—lined the walkways, each frozen in poses of agony or ecstasy.
Kade's gut twisted. "Those statues…"
"They were men like you," Nyx said, not looking back. "Some failed. Some succeeded. All were changed."
He followed her deeper into the garden. The air grew heavier, scented with jasmine and something sharper—like blood on petals.
Finally, she stopped before a stone altar ringed by thorned roses. She turned to him, eyes glowing.
"This is your trial," she said. "To earn your place in the harem of power, you must surrender your pride and endure my lesson."
Kade stared. "Endure what, exactly?"
She smiled. "Pain. Desire. Discipline. You think pleasure is about indulgence? No. Real pleasure… is about control."
Without warning, she raised her hand—and the vines surged.
They coiled around his wrists and ankles, dragging him toward the altar. He struggled, muscles straining, but the vines were strong, alive. They laid him on the stone slab, spread and bare.
Nyx stood over him now, holding a single black rose.
"Last chance to run," she whispered.
Kade met her gaze, defiant. "Do your worst."
---
The rose had thorns.
Each touch Nyx delivered was calculated—part pain, part seduction. She dragged the flower down his chest, its thorns pricking his skin just enough to draw lines of crimson.
He hissed but didn't cry out.
Then came her fingers—cool, practiced, trailing fire in their wake. She leaned down, kissing the blood from his skin, biting as she went.
"You want to scream, don't you?" she purred.
He did.
But he wouldn't give her the satisfaction.
She lashed him next—with vines like whips, kissing his back and thighs in red streaks. Yet between each strike, she soothed with touch, with lips, with warmth. The balance of pain and pleasure blurred until Kade no longer knew what he felt—only that he was feeling everything.
And through it all, he never begged. Never broke.
---
Hours passed.
Or maybe minutes. Time lost meaning in that garden.
When the vines finally receded and Nyx stepped back, Kade lay breathless, bruised, but unbeaten.
She studied him silently.
Then, slowly, she knelt beside the altar and brushed a hand through his damp hair.
"You endured," she whispered. "And more than that… you transformed. I see now why the island called to you."
He blinked at her. "What do you mean?"
She placed the black rose on his chest. "Only a man destined for dominion can survive the Garden without surrender."
Then she kissed him—slow, deep, reverent.
And the moment her lips met his, something unlocked.
A pulse of power exploded in his chest. He gasped, arching from the altar as his eyes glowed with a faint gold light.
Nyx smiled in awe. "The first mark… it's awakening."
---
When he woke, he was alone in the garden, but the marks on his body still burned.
Etched onto his chest now was a faint golden sigil—like a crest of intertwined thorns and flame. He touched it, and felt warmth surge through his veins.
The island had changed him.
And it had only just begun.
---
Outside the garden, Lyra waited.
She raised an eyebrow when she saw him.
"You survived her."
Kade nodded. "I did more than survive."
He opened his robe slightly, revealing the mark.
Her expression changed.
"Then the prophecy may be real after all…" she whispered.
"What prophecy?"
Lyra stepped closer. "There's an ancient tale. That when a man bears the marks of all five Matriarchs, he becomes the Heart of the Island—the only one who can command all of us."
"And what happens then?" Kade asked.
Lyra's voice dropped to a breath. "Then... you either become king… or burn the island to ash."