Morning in the cursed castle was a strange thing.The sun didn't truly rise light only seeped in through the high, narrow windows, pale and thin, like it had to fight its way past layers of shadows clinging to the walls.
Alya had barely slept. She sat curled up in the corner of her bed, knees drawn to her chest, her eyes fixed on the dark vines etched into her arm. They were longer now. Twisting higher, curling around her elbow, with delicate thorns she swore hadn't been there last night.
She touched one gingerly. It didn't hurt but she could feel it. A faint, unnatural pulse beneath her fingertips.
The whisper from last night still clung to her mind. Soon.
She didn't want to think about what "soon" meant.
The sound of heavy footsteps pulled her out of her thoughts.She knew that walk. Controlled, deliberate, like each step was made to remind everyone who was in charge here.
Lucien.
The door swung open without a knock. He filled the doorway like a storm cloud—tall, broad-shouldered, his presence cutting through the air. His dark hair was damp, as if he had already been outside in the mist, and his sharp eyes swept over the room before landing on her.
"What happened?" His voice was low, dangerous.
Alya blinked. "What do you mean?"
He crossed the room in three long strides. "Your arm."
Before she could react, he caught her wrist. His grip was firm but not painful, tilting her arm so the morning light fell over the marks. His jaw tightened.
"They've grown."
She tried to pull back. "I I didn't do anything! I didn't open the door, I swear—"
"I told you to stay away from it." The words were clipped, but there was something under them. Not just anger. Concern. And maybe… fear.
"I did," she said quickly. "I didn't even touch the handle. But someone something kept calling me. It sounded like people I knew. First my mother. Then Daniel. Then…" She hesitated, searching his face. "You."
His eyes darkened. "It used my voice."
She nodded. "I didn't open it. But the mark" She glanced down, throat tightening. "It still changed."
Lucien released her arm slowly, like he was forcing himself not to grip too tightly. He straightened, pacing a few steps before stopping at the window.
"The seal is weakening faster than I expected," he said, more to himself than to her. "It's already trying to claim you."
"Claim me?" Her stomach twisted. "What does that mean?"
He turned back, his gaze locking on hers. "It means you don't have as much time as I thought."
Alya swallowed. "Time for what?"
"Before the curse takes you."
His words fell like cold water down her spine. "Takes me where?"
"Not where," he said grimly. "What."
She stared. "What?"
He didn't answer right away. His expression was unreadable, the silence stretching between them until she felt like screaming.
Finally, he said, "You'll understand when you see it. But you won't survive it unless we stop this."
He stepped closer, and for the first time, his voice softened. "You did well not opening that door. But it will try again. And next time… it will be harder."
Alya hugged herself. "I'm not sure I can keep resisting. Last night it felt like… like it was inside my head."
Lucien's gaze dropped briefly to the mark again, then back to her eyes. "Then I'll have to make sure you're never alone at night."
Something about the way he said it sent an involuntary shiver through her. Not entirely from fear.
"But for now," he said, straightening to his full height, "you're coming with me."
She frowned. "Where?"
"To the eastern wing. There's something you need to see."
Her pulse quickened. "Is it dangerous?"
"Yes." His mouth curved in something that wasn't quite a smile. "But so is staying here."
He didn't give her time to argue. With a flick of his hand, the door opened wider, shadows curling at the edges like obedient creatures. Alya hesitated, glancing once more at the cold, silent door from last night.
She swore just for a second she saw the handle twitch.
Lucien followed her gaze. "Don't look at it," he said sharply. "It likes to be noticed."
Her skin prickled. She tore her eyes away and stepped out into the corridor, her marked arm hidden beneath her sleeve.
The air outside the room was colder. Quieter. As they walked, she realized the eastern wing was darker than the rest of the castle, as if the walls themselves were trying to swallow the light.
She didn't know what was waiting there. But if the marks had grown this much overnight without her even opening the door… she had a feeling whatever Lucien was about to show her would make last night's whispers seem like a child's lullaby.
The corridor narrowed as they approached the eastern wing. The stone walls here were older, darker, and veined with hairline cracks that pulsed faintly with… light? No—not light. Something thicker. Denser. Like molten shadow creeping through the stone.
Alya slowed her steps. "What is this place?"
Lucien didn't answer at first. His eyes stayed forward, scanning the dark hall as though every shadow might hide teeth. "This is where the curse was born," he said finally. "And where it still feeds."
Her throat tightened. "Feeds on what?"
"You'll see."
They turned a final corner, and the air changed. It was colder, but also heavier, pressing against her lungs as if she'd stepped underwater.
At the end of the hall stood a set of massive double doors blackened, their wood splintered with deep gouges that looked like claw marks. Strange runes shimmered faintly across the surface, twisting and shifting like they were alive.
Alya's pulse hammered in her ears. "That's it, isn't it? The source."
Lucien nodded. "The Heart of the Curse."
She swallowed hard. "And you keep it… here? Inside the castle?"
"It can't be destroyed," he said flatly. "Only contained. Barely."
As they drew closer, Alya noticed something else a sound. At first it was just a low hum, almost like wind. But as she listened, it changed.
Whispers.
Her name.
She froze. "Lucien… it's calling me again."
"I know," he said without looking at her. His voice was tight. "That's why you need to see it. To understand what you're fighting."
The marks on her arm burned not painfully, but insistently, like they were waking up. She tugged at her sleeve, but the fabric stuck against her skin, as if the vines beneath were trying to push through.
"Lucien, it's" She broke off when one of the black runes on the door flared, its lines bending toward her like fingers reaching.
He stepped between her and the door instantly, the air around him crackling with dark power. "Stay behind me."
The whispers grew louder. More urgent. And for a split second, Alya thought she saw something—just beyond the shifting runes. Eyes. Watching her.
Not human.
Lucien's hand closed around hers, pulling her back. "Enough for today."
She stumbled after him, heart pounding. "But I"
"You look at it too long, it'll start wearing your face in your dreams," he said sharply. "And then you'll want to open that door."
Her blood ran cold. And for the first time, she understood this wasn't just a curse.
It was a hunger.
And it had noticed her.