The cold grip of terror clawed at Ayla's throat as the Shadow Watcher's clawed hand lunged toward her. Time slowed, every heartbeat thundering in her ears. Her mind screamed to run, to fight, but her body was frozen, caught between panic and disbelief.
Then, a sudden force slammed into the figure, sending it staggering backward with a guttural hiss. A strong hand grasped Ayla's arm, pulling her away from the shadowy menace.
"Stay behind me!" Prince Kaelen's voice was sharp, commanding, yet laced with something fierce and protective she hadn't heard before.
Ayla blinked, her breath ragged. Kaelen's dark eyes burned with a storm of emotions-anger, fear, and something else she couldn't quite place. The Shadow Watcher vanished into the darkness as swiftly as it had appeared, leaving behind a chilling silence that pressed down on the room like a suffocating shroud.
Kaelen's grip on her arm was firm but not cruel. His gaze searched hers, as if trying to gauge the depth of her shock.
"Are you unharmed?" he demanded.
Ayla swallowed hard, the adrenaline still coursing through her veins. "I… I think so."
He nodded curtly. "Good. You must understand, Ayla, this palace is not safe-not for you, not for anyone."
She looked around the dim chamber, the flickering candlelight casting long shadows on the stone walls. "Who… or what was that?" Her voice trembled.
Kaelen's jaw clenched. "The Shadow Watcher. A curse bound to this place. It haunts those who threaten the throne, those who dare to get close to me."
Ayla shivered, the weight of his words sinking deep. "Why me? Why now?"
Kaelen's eyes darkened. "Because you are the bride. And the curse is tied to my bloodline."
The days that followed were a blur of whispered warnings and tense glances. Ayla found herself caught in a web of palace intrigue, where every smile hid suspicion and every shadow whispered betrayal.
Kaelen, once distant and cold, began to show glimpses of a man burdened by his past. He was a puzzle she longed to solve, yet feared to touch.
One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in bruised purples and fiery oranges, Kaelen summoned Ayla to the palace gardens.
The air was thick with the scent of night-blooming jasmine, a stark contrast to the darkness that clung to the palace walls.
"I need to show you something," Kaelen said, his voice softer than before.
He led her to a secluded alcove where an ancient tapestry hung, depicting a battle between light and shadow. At its center was a figure strikingly similar to Kaelen, surrounded by serpents and flames.
"This is my family's curse," he explained. "A legacy of pain and darkness. The Devil's son, they call me. But I am more than the rumors."
Ayla reached out, tracing the intricate threads. "Is there a way to break it?"
Kaelen's eyes met hers, vulnerability flickering behind the storm. "I don't know. But I won't let it destroy you."
That night, Ayla lay awake, the tapestry's image burned into her mind. The palace was silent, but her thoughts roared with questions.
Suddenly, a soft knock echoed at her door.
Lady Miren slipped inside, her face pale. "Ayla, you must be careful. Lord Varek is stirring trouble. He doesn't want you here."
Ayla frowned. "Why? What does he want?"
Miren hesitated. "Power. And he sees you as a threat to his plans."
The weight of the palace's dangers pressed down on Ayla like never before. Trust was a luxury she could ill afford.
Days later, during a grand feast, the tension in the air was palpable. Nobles whispered behind fans and raised goblets, their eyes flickering with hidden agendas.
Ayla sat beside Kaelen, her heart pounding. Suddenly, Lord Varek stood, his voice dripping with false charm.
"To Prince Kaelen and his bride," he toasted, "may their union bring peace… or chaos."
A murmur rippled through the hall.
Kaelen's gaze snapped to Varek, icy and unreadable.
Ayla felt a cold hand grip her own beneath the table.
As the feast continued, a sudden scream pierced the hall. The grand chandelier shuddered, then crashed to the floor in a shower of glass and flame.
Chaos erupted.
In the midst of the turmoil, Ayla caught sight of a shadow slipping away-a figure cloaked in darkness, watching her with burning red eyes.
The curse was far from over.