The forest was quiet again.
Kael had left the ruins, or at least moved far enough away to give her space. Elira sat alone, curled in what was once a prayer alcove, back pressed against the cold stone wall. Her breath fogged in the night air, though the fire still burned beside her.
The pain from the curse had faded — but the ache stayed.
She closed her eyes and let it come.
Two years earlier – Averyn, The Royal Citadel
They had dressed her in white. Silk gloves. Gilded hem. She was seventeen. The coronation was still a year away, but tonight was the ritual of blood — the test of power, the final step before they declared her heir.
She remembered how proud her father had looked.
She remembered the way her mother smiled guarded, but soft.
She remembered the priest's hand on her wrist. The blade. The cut.
And then… nothing went as it was supposed to.
Her blood had spilled onto the stone, as it should have.
But instead of fading into the sacred glyphs carved into the floor, it burned.
The air twisted. Magic snapped loose like lightning. Voices screamed.
And then fire.
A scream, hers.
Her mother's body, crumpling.
Her father shouting her name like it was a curse.
And the look in their eyes…
Not shock.
Not pain.
Fear.
That's when she understood:
The ritual hadn't awakened her magic.
It had revealed it.
Something buried deep in her bloodline something ancient. Something forbidden.
The council called it an abomination. The court accused her of killing the Queen. They didn't ask questions. They didn't let her speak.
They bound her. Banished her. Cursed her with a magic seal that would punish anyone who touched her and punish her back.
She wasn't a girl after that.
Not to them.
She became the Cursed Princess.
Now – Back in the ruins
Elira opened her eyes. Her fists were clenched. She hadn't even noticed. Her breathing was shallow.
A sound stirred behind her — not loud, just deliberate.
"I said I'd keep my distance," Kael's voice murmured from the shadows, "but you don't look like someone who wants to be alone."
She didn't answer.
He stepped closer, stopping just outside the ring of firelight.
"I know what it feels like," he said, softer now. "To lose everything and still not know what the hell you are."
That made her look up.
"You don't know anything about me."
"Not yet."
He met her eyes, steady. "But I want to."
She hated that something inside her fluttered at the sound of that. Hated that he didn't look at her like a weapon. Hated how much she wanted to believe him.
But the curse between them didn't care about want.
So she turned her face away and said, "Then don't get too close."
Kael didn't move.
"I won't," he said. "Unless you ask me to."