The scent of wilted roses clung to the air like mourning perfume.
Princess Elira stood motionless beneath the silver spires of the royal crypt, her black veil hanging like a shadow over her pale face. The casket before her was carved from onyx, polished to a mirror shine, reflecting flickers of torchlight and the hollow eyes of the gathered court. The man inside had once dared to love her. Now he was dead just like the others.
The High Priest droned through the burial rite, his voice echoing coldly through the stone chamber. Elira barely heard it. Her gaze was fixed on the bouquet resting atop the casket: dark crimson roses. Her favorites. A cruel gesture.
Lord Ravel had been bold. Too bold. He had touched her hand last week beneath the arch of the Winter Garden, whispering poetry and promises. She remembered his smile. Soft, charming. Not yet afraid.
He was dead by morning.
"Your Highness," a courtier whispered, bowing low beside her. "Shall we proceed with the offering?"
Elira's fingers clenched beneath her silk gloves. She nodded once.
An attendant stepped forward, carrying a silver bowl filled with ash. The offering to the dead. Elira took a pinch between her gloved fingers and let it fall like snow upon the casket. The flames of the torches dimmed. The chamber darkened.
As the ash fell, the roses blackened.
It was always the same.
Behind her, nobles shifted uncomfortably, murmuring prayers. Not to the gods but for protection. From her. She could feel their fear like heat on her back. It no longer hurt. It was simply familiar.
The ceremony ended in silence. No one offered condolences. No one met her eyes.
Only her mother, the Queen, remained standing as the others filed out. Draped in mourning silver, her face was as unreadable as a statue. "Another death, Elira," she said coolly. "You must learn to control this... sickness. Or no one will be left to stand beside you when the crown passes hands."
"It's not sickness," Elira replied softly. "It's a curse."
The Queen's eyes narrowed. "Call it what you will. Fix it."
Elira didn't respond. What could she say? That she had spent her childhood watching servants wither? That tutors, handmaids, and would-be suitors alike had all fallen to her touch when their affection turned too warm?
That love killed?
The Queen turned and swept out of the crypt, her silver train whispering over the stones like a serpent. Elira lingered a moment longer.
She looked down at the blackened roses.
There was nothing left to mourn. Not really.
Only ash.
Chapter 2 – The Queen's Bargain
The Queen's chambers were always too cold.
Elira stood at the edge of the hearth, though no fire burned in it. Her mother preferred the chill, claiming warmth bred softness. The room was all marble and glass, moonlight spilling in through tall arched windows. A throne-like chair sat beneath a canopy of sheer silver curtains. The Queen sat within it, her crown casting pale reflections onto the floor.
"You are of age in three months," the Queen said, her voice as sharp as winter air. "And when that day comes, you will take the crown if you survive it."
Elira said nothing. She didn't trust her voice to be steady.
"You know the tradition," the Queen continued. "A coronation is not merely symbolic. It is magical. The crown is bound to the bloodline—but only to the worthy. Your curse… may be interpreted by the gods as a weakness. You may not be accepted."
"And what happens then?" Elira asked.
"Your heart will stop. The throne will reject you. And your cousin will take your place."
There it was. Cold and final.
Elira's throat tightened. She had always known the curse would cost her everything love, trust, freedom. But now the throne too?
"I've spent years scouring the kingdom for a cure," the Queen said, rising. "There is none. The court believes it is divine punishment. The scholars whisper of ancestral sin. But I remember the day you were born, and I remember what the seer said."
Elira met her gaze. "What did she say?"
"That the curse would end the line if left unchecked." The Queen stepped closer. "But it can be broken if you're willing to pay the price."
A chill ran down Elira's spine. "What price?"
"I don't know," the Queen said. "But I believe there is something hidden beneath this castle. A remnant of old magic older than the gods we pray to. I've sealed the eastern wing for decades, but you may enter. Find it. Use it. Or die."
The way she said it like dying was just another task on the to-do list.
Elira clenched her gloved hands. "And if I refuse?"
The Queen studied her, and for a moment something almost human flickered in her gaze. Almost.
"You won't," she said. "Because you want to live."
Then she turned away, disappearing into the cold shadows of the room like smoke.
Elira stood there long after she was gone, the silence pressing against her ribs like a second skin.
Old magic. Forgotten halls. A chance no matter how small to be free of this curse.
She would find it.
Because the alternative was death
Chapter 3 – The Iron Below
The castle was a labyrinth of stone and shadow, its endless halls stretching like veins through the heart of the mountain. Beneath its polished surface, its ancient foundation hid secrets older than the kingdom itself.
Elira had always known there were parts of the castle where even her mother didn't tread—places sealed off from sight and memory. Her mother had once told her that those places were cursed, forgotten in the wake of more "practical" matters.
But Elira had never believed in superstition.
Tonight, she made her way through the winding corridors of the eastern wing, her steps quiet against the cold marble floor. The air here was thick with dust, untouched for years. The shadows clung to the walls like ghosts, watching her every move.
At the end of the hall, the door stood.
It was made of blackened iron, nearly hidden beneath layers of ivy that had crept through the cracks of the stone. It was different from all the other doors in the castle heavier, older, its edges marked by strange symbols Elira had never seen before. The keyhole was large enough for her entire palm to fit.
A shiver ran through her as her fingers brushed the surface. The door called to her. A whisper in the back of her mind, a sense of dread and wonder in equal measure.
She'd come here for answers. And she would find them.
Elira reached into the folds of her gown and pulled out a small iron key—one she'd taken from her mother's private chambers earlier that evening. A key meant for this very door. It slid into the keyhole with ease, the mechanism clicking softly as it turned.
With a deep breath, she pushed the door open.
Inside was darkness.
She stepped into the room, her eyes adjusting to the faint light that filtered through a narrow slit in the stone. The walls were lined with shelves, but the books were old and brittle, covered in dust. In the center of the room was a stone pedestal, and upon it, something more ancient still its form twisted, bound in chains of iron.
A man.
He was unmoving, his body draped in tattered rags. Long black hair fell over his face, obscuring his features. Elira's heart skipped a beat. His presence was... wrong—unnatural. Yet there was something undeniable about the pull he had on her. Something that urged her to draw closer.
She hesitated only for a moment before stepping forward, her breath shallow.
"Who are you?" she whispered, her voice betraying the tremor she couldn't hide.
The figure didn't respond. His chest did not rise and fall with breath, and his skin was pale, stretched taut over sharp bones. But something alive lurked within him, and that life, like a flame, beckoned her closer.
"Kael," a voice rasped from his lips though she hadn't seen him move. "I am Kael Ravaryn."
His eyes opened then, two points of molten gold beneath the tangled strands of hair. They locked onto hers, and for a moment, Elira could barely breathe.
"Princess Elira," he said, his voice a low, haunting murmur. "You have come. Finally."
She recoiled slightly, her heart pounding in her chest. "How do you know my name?"
Kael's lips curled into the faintest of smiles, though the expression was far from comforting. "I know much more than you think."
The chains rattled slightly as he shifted his posture, his eyes glowing with something she couldn't quite place something ancient, wild, and knowing.
"I've been waiting for you," he continued, his voice growing stronger. "I've been waiting for the one who will break the curse."
Elira took an instinctive step back, her pulse quickening. "The curse?"
"The curse that binds you. The one that kills anyone you love." Kael's gaze never wavered, his eyes burning into hers like embers. "It is no accident you came here tonight. You know what you are. I know what you are."
Elira's hands clenched into fists. "How dare you speak of it."
"I dare because I know how to end it," Kael said, his voice darkening. "I can help you, Elira. But you must free me first."
The words hung in the air, thick and heavy. Elira's heart thudded painfully in her chest. Her mother had warned her of old magic, of dangerous pacts—yet here, in the heart of the forgotten wing of the castle, a part of her felt something pull toward this stranger, something she couldn't deny.
"How do I know you're not lying?" she asked, though the question sounded hollow even to her own ears. "How do I know I can trust you?"
Kael's smile deepened, but there was no humor in it. "You don't. But then again, you never have trusted anyone, have you?"
His words hit harder than she expected. The silence stretched between them, heavy and thick, before she spoke again.
"What must I do to free you?"
"Come closer," he said softly, his voice low like a whisper of wind. "And I will show you."
Chapter 4 – The Bargain
The room seemed to close in around Elira, its shadows pressing in on her. The man before her Kael remained unmoving, his eyes never leaving hers, glowing like twin embers in the dark. His words lingered in the air, heavy with a promise she couldn't yet understand, and perhaps didn't want to. Yet, despite the unease clawing at her gut, something inside her urged her forward.
"Come closer."
Elira's breath hitched. She took a cautious step toward him, her heartbeat thundering in her chest, every instinct screaming at her to turn and run. But she couldn't. She needed answers. And he was the only one who could offer them.
When she reached the pedestal, the cold iron chains that bound him seemed to tighten as if sensing her proximity. They rattled faintly but remained still. Her eyes flickered to his face there was an ancient hunger in his expression, something that spoke of long years of confinement, of longing. But there was also an edge to him that she couldn't quite place dangerous, alluring.
"What do you want from me?" Elira asked, her voice tight, her throat dry.
Kael's lips curled into a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "It's not what I want, Princess. It's what you need. You've spent your life running from the truth of your curse. But you cannot outrun what's inside you, no matter how many people you kill."
The words stung, sharper than any blade.
"You think I don't know what this curse has done?" she spat, her temper flaring. "Every day, I feel its weight. Every day, I watch people die. I was a child when it started, and now I've spent my life in solitude, in fear. I've never known love—only death."
Kael's gaze softened for a fleeting moment, but the hardness returned quickly. "The truth is that you've been cursed from the beginning. It wasn't a random twist of fate. It was made. And I was the one who made it."
Elira froze. "What do you mean?"
"Your bloodline was always meant for power, Princess," Kael continued, his voice low and deliberate. "Your ancestors sought to use dark magic to control life and death. But they didn't understand the cost. They never understood what it would take to wield such power. I helped them willingly at first, but they betrayed me in the end. And they bound me here, in this prison, to ensure that the magic would never be undone."
He shifted, his chains rattling slightly as he leaned toward her. "But they made a mistake. They didn't account for you. They didn't account for the one who could break the cycle."
Elira's heart pounded in her chest. "And you think I can undo it? You think I can save myself from this curse?"
Kael's gaze darkened. "I know you can. You have more power than you realize, Elira. And I can help you unlock it. But in return, you must free me. Only then will I show you how to break the curse and free yourself from the chains of your ancestors."
The weight of his words hung in the air, suffocating her. The offer was too tempting. To finally rid herself of the curse that had controlled her life, that had turned her into a monster in the eyes of everyone around her... It was more than she could resist. But there was a catch, and she knew it.
"What's the price?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. "What do you want from me, truly?"
Kael's smile deepened, his eyes flickering with something far darker than she had yet seen. "The price is not just freeing me, Princess. It's your trust. You must trust me completely. And you must accept the consequences of what you will become in the process."
She swallowed hard. "What will I become?"
"A ruler with the power to destroy or save. A person who will change the very fabric of this kingdom. You will not be the same after this. You will wield the magic of life and death itself, and with it, the choice to either lift the curse or let it consume you."
A heavy silence followed, thick with the gravity of his words. Elira felt her pulse quicken, and the walls of the dungeon seemed to close in even more. Was it worth the risk? Could she really trust him? And even if she did, would she still be able to control the darkness that had plagued her for so long?
"I don't have a choice, do I?" she whispered, her voice cracking.
Kael's gaze softened, almost sadly. "No. You never did."
Elira closed her eyes for a moment, feeling the weight of the decision pressing down on her chest. She had always known this moment would come. She had always known that to break free from the curse, she would have to sacrifice something. But this was more than she had anticipated. It wasn't just her life she was gambling with now. It was everything.
Slowly, she reached out and touched the cold, iron chains that bound Kael, her fingers brushing against the ancient metal. The chains rattled in response, and she felt a jolt of power pulse through her dangerous and intoxicating.
"I'll do it," she said, her voice firm, though a storm of uncertainty raged inside her. "I'll free you."
Kael's eyes gleamed with an almost predatory satisfaction. "Then the bargain is struck."
The chains around him began to tremble, and Elira could feel the magic shifting in the air—thick and heavy. The darkness swirled around them both as Kael's form seemed to pulse with power, the ancient magic at the heart of the prison awakening.
She had made her choice.
And now, there was no turning back.
Chapter 5 – Blood and Secrets
The chains around Kael's body trembled, their metal groaning with an ancient, ominous sound. The air between them crackled, thick with the raw energy of the bargain they had struck. Elira stepped back, watching as the heavy iron links seemed to melt away, dissolving like dust in the wind. With every inch of restraint that fell away from him, she felt the power his power growing stronger.
Kael stood, his bare feet touching the cold stone floor with a quiet thud. He stretched his arms wide, his movements fluid and predatory, like a creature awakening from a long, torturous slumber.
For a moment, he simply stood there, surveying her with a look that was both calculating and amused. Elira stood frozen in place, her heart hammering in her chest. She had made the choice, but the weight of it was suffocating.
"You're free," she said, her voice barely a whisper, the enormity of what she had just done slowly sinking in. She had freed him and, in doing so, unleashed something far darker than she could have imagined.
Kael's smile deepened, though there was little warmth in it. "I am. But it seems we both have much to learn, Elira."
He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming, the air thick with the magic that swirled around him. Elira instinctively took a step back, her fingers curling into fists at her sides. Her body hummed with the power that now seemed to pulse through the room, coming from him, from them.
"You think you can control this magic?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly despite herself. "You think I'm just going to let you lead me down whatever dark path you've walked for centuries?"
Kael's eyes flashed with a dangerous light, and for a moment, his gaze seemed to pierce through her, reading her like an open book. He stopped a mere foot away, so close she could feel the heat radiating from his body, the magnetic pull of his presence.
"I never said you would," he replied softly, his voice a low growl. "But you need me to learn. To break the curse, to understand what has been hidden from you, what your bloodline has kept buried for so long."
Elira's stomach twisted. She had known her family's history was steeped in dark magic. She had heard whispers in the corridors of the castle, secretive words exchanged in the dead of night. But to hear it from him, to hear him claim that her bloodline had once been so intertwined with forbidden magic—it made her blood run cold.
"What are you really?" she asked, her voice thick with the weight of her fear. "And what have you done to my family?"
Kael's expression hardened, and for a brief moment, there was a flash of something darker