The castle was too quiet.
Alya lay in the massive bed, eyes fixed on the canopy above. Sleep refused to come.Lucien's warning replayed in her head like a curse of its own.
"Do not leave this room. If you value your life.""The curse will choose you."
She clenched her fists under the covers. She hated being treated like a fragile porcelain doll… or worse, a prisoner.
She had been dragged into this marriage without a choice. Now, she would not let fear dictate her every breath.
The grandfather clock in the corner struck midnight.
That was when she heard it again.
Clink… clink… clink…
Chains. Faint, but unmistakable.
Her heart stuttered. She pushed the covers aside, bare feet touching the cold stone floor.Pulling a shawl over her nightdress, she crept toward the window.
There on the eastern balcony was the same chained figure she'd seen before.Only this time… the figure was moving. Slowly. Painfully. As though something was dragging it back into the shadows.
Alya's curiosity flared. If this was the so-called "curse," she needed to see it for herself.
She slipped toward the door and tried the handle.
It was locked.
She almost gave up until her eyes caught the narrow servant's door hidden behind a tapestry. She pulled it open and found a winding staircase, lit only by the faint glow of moonlight from a slit window.
The air grew colder with every step she descended. Shadows danced along the walls, stretching like claws toward her.
The servant's stairs ended in a deserted hallway. Dust clung to the air.At the far end stood a massive set of double doors black wood carved with strange, swirling symbols.
The eastern wing.
Her pulse quickened. She placed a hand on the door.It was cold… unnaturally cold, as though it had been carved from ice instead of wood.
The moment her fingers touched the surface, a whisper slid into her mind.
"Welcome… Alya."
She yanked her hand back, chest heaving. But the voice didn't stop.
"We've been waiting for you…"
The doors creaked open on their own.
Beyond them lay a corridor cloaked in darkness, lit only by flickering blue torches. The air smelled faintly of iron and rain.
Alya stepped inside.
Her footsteps echoed unnaturally loud, the sound bouncing back at her in distorted ways as if there were voices hidden within the echoes.
Halfway down the corridor, she saw him.
The chained figure.
The man stood with his back to her, hair plastered to his neck from the rain, chains binding his wrists to the wall. His shoulders rose and fell with labored breaths.
Something about him was achingly familiar.
"Hello?" she called softly.
The man froze. Slowly, he turned his head.
Alya's breath caught.
It was Lucien.But his eyes… they glowed with a feral, silver light, his features sharper, almost inhuman. Shadows coiled around his body like living smoke.
"Alya," he growled, voice deeper than she had ever heard. "You shouldn't be here."
Her lips trembled. "What is this place? Why are you like this?"
He took a step toward her, chains rattling. The sound was deafening in the silence.
"The curse," he said, the word dripping with bitterness, "is not a story. It's a prison. And you've just stepped inside it."
A sudden gust of icy wind swept down the corridor, extinguishing half the torches.From the darkness behind Lucien, a pair of glowing red eyes appeared… followed by a grin too wide for any human face.
Lucien's expression hardened.
"Run."
Alya's body moved before her mind caught up. She turned and sprinted toward the doors. The thing in the shadows screeched a sound that sliced through her bones and chains snapped behind her.
Something heavy slammed into the walls. Blue flames flared, revealing claw marks gouged deep into the stone.
She reached the double doors and shoved them open, heart pounding.
But instead of the hallway she'd come from… she found herself standing in an unfamiliar garden under a blood-red sky.
The air was thick, humming with an energy she didn't understand.
And in the center of the garden stood a woman in a black veil, her gown shimmering like oil.
"Welcome, bride of the cursed prince," the woman said, her voice sweet and venomous. "You've crossed the threshold. Now… you belong to us."
Behind Alya, chains clinked again only this time, they were moving toward her.
The veiled woman didn't move, yet the air between them thickened until Alya's lungs burned.
"Who are you?" Alya demanded, though her voice cracked halfway.
The woman's head tilted slightly, as though Alya's question amused her.
"Names have power here. I will not give you mine. But I will tell you this every bride who steps into the eastern wing becomes part of the curse. You are no exception."
Alya's stomach twisted.
"I'm not part of anything. I didn't come here to"
The woman raised a pale hand, and Alya's words died on her tongue. The ground beneath her feet shuddered, the grass wilting to ash in a slow ripple.
Behind her, the double doors slammed shut on their own.
A rustle of chains made Alya spin around.
Lucien was there only he wasn't bound anymore. His chains hung broken, dragging along the grass as he approached. His glowing silver eyes locked on her like a predator scenting blood.
"I told you to run," he said, his voice a low rumble.
Alya took a step back. "Lucien, what is this? Why why do you look like that?"
Before he could answer, the veiled woman laughed a sound too melodic to be human, yet sharp enough to cut.
"He doesn't look like anything, dear. You're seeing him for what he truly is."
Lucien's jaw tightened.
"Enough."
The woman ignored him and turned to Alya.
"Do you know why your marriage was arranged so suddenly? Why no priest blessed it, and no witnesses remained after the vows?" She stepped closer, her gown whispering over the ash. "Because your bloodline is the key. And now that you've entered this place, the curse will bind itself to you… until death."
Alya's knees felt weak, but she forced her chin up. "If you think I'll just accept that"
The red sky above split open with a thunderous crack. Black lightning forked downward, striking the garden's central fountain. The water boiled instantly, turning to a thick, inky liquid that bubbled and hissed.
From that bubbling darkness, something began to rise.
Lucien moved faster than she could follow, shoving her behind him. His chains clinked like a warning.
"Stay behind me, Alya. Don't touch it."
The woman's voice turned mocking.
"Protect her if you want, cursed prince. It won't change the ending."
The thing emerging from the fountain stretched tall—too tall, its limbs jointed wrong, its head crowned with antlers dripping black water. The smell of rot rolled over them in a choking wave.
Lucien's body tensed, muscles shifting under his torn shirt. For a moment, Alya swore she saw shadows clawing at his skin from the inside, desperate to break free.
"If it touches you," Lucien said without looking at her, "you will not wake up again."
The creature let out a sound between a hiss and a scream, lunging forward with impossible speed.
Lucien roared an inhuman sound that shook the garden.
And then… darkness swallowed everything.