Kael had never dreamed before. Not once in his seventeen years.
The others at the orphanage called him "Dreamless," like it was a disease. Maybe it was. Everyone else woke from the Dusk with cuts, bruises, or sometimes… never at all. But Kael? Nothing. Empty.
Until tonight.
He woke in darkness, the air heavy as tar, the ground beneath him a broken mosaic of black stone. A blood-red moon hung above, dripping light like fresh wounds. He wasn't alone. Something slithered. Something crawled. Something watched.
Kael stumbled back as a shadow peeled itself from the wall—too tall, too thin, with a grin that split its head in half. It lunged.
He ran. His legs burned, his breath shallow. No weapon, no plan. Just the pounding terror in his chest. Then he tripped. His hands struck cold stone. The creature loomed over him, grin widening—
And chains burst from the ground. Black, jagged links coiled around the monster's limbs, dragging it down with a screech. The chains pulsed, glowing faintly as if alive. They weren't real metal—they were shadows.
The creature thrashed. Kael felt it. In his mind. In his veins. The chain connected them. And then—
He pulled.
The shadow dissolved into mist, searing into his chest like molten iron. Kael screamed. When the pain ebbed, he could still feel it—the monster—lurking behind his heartbeat, bound to him. A whisper brushed his thoughts, slick and cold:
Mine… you are mine…
Kael staggered upright, clutching his chest. For the first time in his life, he wasn't Dreamless.
For the first time… he was cursed.