Aria's POV
The car pulls through massive iron gates that close behind us with a heavy clang.
I'm trapped.
Caspian's estate looms ahead a gothic mansion that looks like it belongs in a horror movie. Dark stone. Pointed towers. Windows that reflect the dying sunlight like cold eyes.
Welcome to Vorelis Manor, Caspian says.
The friendly driver who introduced himself as Silas parks in front of huge wooden doors. I'll get your things, boss.
I don't have things, I say. You kidnapped me, remember?
Caspian actually smiles. It's small and doesn't reach his eyes, but it's there. Rescued. I rescued you from magic hunters who wanted to cut you open and study your insides.
Potato, potato.
That expression doesn't work when you're not saying it out loud.
Despite everything the attack, the fear, the confusion almost laugh.
Silas opens my door. Come on. It's not as scary inside as it looks. Well, maybe a little scary. But the kitchen has good snacks.
I follow them through the massive doors into an entrance hall that takes my breath away. Not because it's beautiful, though it is. But because every surface holds something magical.
Floating candles that burn without wax. Paintings that move slightly when I'm not looking directly at them. A chandelier made of crystals that hum with power.
You collect magical objects, I say.
I deal in rare artifacts and impossible things, Caspian replies, leading me deeper into the house. People pay me to find items they can't acquire themselves. Sometimes legal. Sometimes not.
So you're a criminal?
I prefer 'morally flexible entrepreneur.' He stops at a door and opens it. This is the library. We'll talk here.
The library is enormous. Books floor to ceiling on three walls. A fireplace crackling with blue flames. Comfortable chairs. And in the center, a massive table covered in old books and papers.
All about resurrection magic.
My stomach drops. How long have you been planning this?
Planning what?
Bringing me back. I point at the research. This looks like months of work.
Caspian's jaw tightens. Sit down, Aria. I'll explain everything.
I don't sit. Explain now. Starting with why you were at that gallery a year ago. Why you were watching me.
His eyes flash with something surprise, maybe. Lyra told you.
She told me someone's been buying up resurrection artifacts. Someone who deals in impossible things. I cross my arms. That's you, isn't it? You've been collecting these things for years. Building up to this.
Yes.
The simple admission rocks me. Why? Why go through all this trouble for someone you didn't even know?
Caspian walks to the window, his back to me. I did know you. Not personally. But I knew who you were.
That's not an answer.
My parents were executed when I was twelve, he says quietly. They practiced forbidden magic. Resurrection magic. The authorities found out and killed them. Made me watch. His voice stays flat, emotionless. They died trying to bring back my little sister. She drowned when she was six. They spent years researching, hoping, trying. And when they finally attempted the ritual, it failed. The magic backfired and killed them both.
My anger dissolves. Caspian, I'm so
Don't. He turns to face me. I don't want sympathy. I'm telling you this so you understand. I grew up in foster care. Built my business from nothing. And the whole time, I was finishing my parents' research. Perfecting what they got wrong.
You wanted to bring back your sister.
I wanted to prove it could be done. That they didn't die for nothing. He walks to the table and picks up an old journal. By the time I figured it out, my sister would have been twenty-five. Even if I brought her back, she'd still be six years old in a world that had moved on without her. It would be cruel.
So you didn't do it.
No. I didn't. He sets the journal down. I had the power to resurrect someone, but no one to resurrect. Until I saw you.
My heart pounds. At the gallery.
You were restoring a damaged painting. Some old piece most people wouldn't notice. But you treated it like it was precious. You smiled at the security guard. Helped an intern carry boxes even though you were wearing an expensive dress. His gray eyes lock on mine. You were kind in a world full of cruelty. And I thought... if I could save one person from injustice, it should be someone like you.
So you stalked me?
I noticed you, he corrects. I went to gallery events I knew you'd attend. Watched how you treated people. How you saw beauty in broken things. His voice drops. And then you got engaged to Julian Strand.
You knew him?
I knew of him. A social climber with no moral compass. I could see he didn't love you. He loved what you represented money, status, connections. Caspian's hands curl into fists. But it wasn't my place to interfere. You looked happy. So I stayed away.
Until I died.
Until you were murdered. The word comes out like a curse. I have contacts everywhere. When you collapsed at your engagement party, I heard about it within minutes. When you were pronounced dead, I was already on my way to the hospital.
My legs feel weak. I sit down in one of the chairs. You were there? When I died?
I was in the parking lot. Watching them load your body into the ambulance. He closes his eyes. And I couldn't accept it. You didn't deserve to be dead. You deserved justice. A second chance. Life.
So you broke into the morgue and performed a forbidden ritual.
Actually, I bribed the morgue attendant and performed the ritual in a private room. He opens his eyes. I had three hours before your body would deteriorate too much. I did the ritual. Paid the price. And you came back.
What price? I stand up and grab his wrist, trying again to read the shadows. This time, I push through the pain.
The shadows shift and swirl. And for just a second, I see words forming: One life, freely given.
I gasp and let go. You paid with your life?
Part of it. Caspian's voice is rough. The Mortivane Covenant required a life debt. I gave years of my life span. How many, I don't know. Could be ten years. Could be fifty. The magic takes what it wants.
That's insane! You could die tomorrow!
Or I could live another sixty years. He shrugs like it doesn't matter. Point is, you're alive. The magic worked. And I'd do it again.
I stare at him, this stranger who sacrificed his future for mine. I don't understand you.
You don't have to. Caspian pulls out the same ancient book I saw at Lyra's shop and opens it. What you need to understand is this.
He shows me the page about the curse. I read it again, my blood running cold.
The resurrected shall bear a curse the cost of their existence written upon their skin. Should they find true love, or should true love find them, both souls shall burn and return to death together.
I can't fall in love, I whisper.
And no one can fall in love with you. If they do, the magic will sense it. And it will kill you both. Caspian's voice is gentle now. Almost kind. I'm sorry. I knew about the curse when I performed the ritual. But the alternative was leaving you dead. I chose wrong.
You chose to save me.
I chose to bring you back into a half-life. You can't love. Can't be loved. Can't have the one thing that makes being alive worth it. He looks away. Maybe death would have been kinder.
Anger flares in me. Don't you dare. Don't you dare say that.
Aria
I was murdered by people I trusted. They stole my life, my dignity, everything. You gave it back. I step closer. I don't care about the curse. I care about making them pay. Can you help me or not?
Caspian studies me for a long moment. Then he nods. I can help. I have evidence of Julian's embezzlement. Records of Celeste's bribes. Everything you need to destroy them.
Then let's do it.
There's a condition. His expression turns serious. You stay here. At the manor. The magic hunters will keep coming. This place is protected by wards they can't find you here.
For how long?
Until we finish this. Until Julian and Celeste are behind bars and you're safe. He pauses. And until I can teach you to hide your magical signature. Right now, you're like a beacon. Every magic user in the city can sense you.
The thought of staying here, with him, feels dangerous. Not because I don't trust him. But because every time I look at him, something in my chest pulls tight.
And I'm not supposed to feel anything for anyone.
Fine, I agree. But I have rules too. No more secrets. No more watching me without telling me. And you teach me everything about the magic, about my abilities, about what I've become.
Deal. Caspian extends his hand.
I shake it. His skin is warm, and the shadows on his wrist writhe like they're trying to reach me.
One more thing, I say. Why can't I read your price? Everyone else, I see clear numbers. But yours is just shadows.
Caspian's expression shutters. Because my price is connected to you. What I want most... He pulls his hand away. It doesn't matter. You should rest. Silas will show you to your room.
But I don't move. What do you want most, Caspian?
Something I can never have. His voice is barely a whisper. Now go. Before I say something we'll both regret.
I'm about to push for more when Silas bursts into the library, his friendly face panicked.
Boss! We have a problem!
What kind of problem? Caspian asks.
The wards just went down. All of them. Something broke through. Silas looks at me, his eyes wide. And it's heading straight for her.
The lights flicker.
The blue flames in the fireplace turn red.
And somewhere in the house, something howls.
Not human. Not animal.
Something else entirely.
What is that? I breathe.
Caspian's face goes pale. A Revenant. A resurrection that went wrong. It's hunting you.
Why me?
Because you're like it. Brought back from death. It can sense your magic. He grabs my arm. We need to get you out of here. Now.
But before we can move, the library door slams shut.
And locks.
We're trapped with something that's coming to kill me.
Timeline: Day 2, Evening