Day twelve. Liam woke with a splitting headache and memories that weren't his own.
He was in the palace throne room—but centuries ago, alive, arguing with a man who looked exactly like Pryce.
"She's innocent, Valerian! I have proof—witnesses who saw your father pay Marcus Thorne, records of the drug purchases—"
"You LIE!" Valerian's face was twisted with rage. "You want her for yourself! I've seen how you look at her—"
"She was my CLIENT! I was her barrister, trying to HELP her!"
"By stealing her from me?"
Steel rang as swords were drawn.
Liam jerked awake, gasping.
Rhys was already up, watching him with concern. "You okay?"
"I remembered." Liam's voice shook. "I remembered dying. Valerian's sword through my chest. And the look on his face—not triumph. Regret. Like he knew he'd made a mistake but couldn't stop himself."
"The curse was already forming," Rhys said quietly. "Even before he died, the darkness was taking hold."
"I tried to save her." Liam looked at his hands as if expecting to see blood. "I had all the evidence. Could have proven Elara's innocence in court. But he wouldn't listen. Wouldn't even look at the documents."
"Because he'd already decided she was guilty."
"No." Liam met his eyes. "Because he was terrified I was right. If she was innocent, that meant he'd tortured and imprisoned someone he loved for nothing. That meant facing his own cruelty. He couldn't handle that, so he rejected the truth and killed the messenger instead."
Rhys sat down heavily. "He's still doing it. Still rejecting anything that challenges his narrative."
"Which is why breaking this curse is nearly impossible." Liam stood, paced. "He can't break it himself because that would require admitting he was wrong. And you can't break it by choosing him because that would validate everything he's done."
"So we're stuck."
"Maybe not." Liam pulled out his notes. "I've been thinking about what I said yesterday—about Valerian making a deal. Most dying curses are emotional, impulsive. But this one is too structured. Too powerful. The way it follows you through multiple lives, the way it compels Pryce to kill anyone you love—that's not just residual anger. That's contracted magic."
"Contracted with who?"
"That's what we need to figure out." Liam spread documents across the table. "Look at the historical records of Ashbourne's fall. The entire kingdom destroyed in days—plague, fire, earthquake, madness. That's not natural disaster. That's supernatural punishment."
Rhys leaned over the documents. "You think whatever Valerian made a deal with destroyed the kingdom?"
"I think Valerian offered his soul and his kingdom in exchange for eternal possession of Elara's soul. And something accepted that deal."
"What kind of something?"
"I don't know. Demon? Dark god? Abstract concept of obsession given form?" Liam looked frustrated. "I'm a lawyer, not a demonologist. But the point is—if we can find what he made the deal with, maybe we can negotiate new terms."
"Negotiate with a demon."
"You have a better idea?"
Rhys didn't.
They spent the day searching through every occult text in the library. Most were in Latin or older languages neither could fully read, but they found fragments:
"...the Prince called upon the Void Lord in his dying moments..."
"...traded his kingdom and soul for eternal binding..."
"...the Darkness accepted, and the land was consumed..."
"Void Lord," Liam muttered. "Great. We're dealing with cosmic horror."
"Can we summon it? Talk to it?"
"Summoning entities that accept entire kingdoms as payment seems like a bad idea."
"Worse than being cursed forever?"
Liam had no answer for that.
That night, as Liam settled onto the floor and Rhys tried to sleep, Pryce finally appeared.
But he looked different. Weaker. Flickering.
"You're researching the deal," he said without preamble.
Rhys sat up. "You knew about it?"
"Of course I knew. I made it." Pryce's form solidified slightly. "In my final moments, I didn't just curse Elara. I called upon the Void Lord—the entity that feeds on obsession, possession, dark love. I offered everything: my soul, my kingdom, my eternal service. In exchange for one thing."
"Me," Rhys whispered.
"You. Forever. Bound to me across all lives, all deaths, all time." Pryce moved closer. "The Void Lord accepted. Consumed Ashbourne as payment. And bound both our souls to this pattern."
"So break the deal!"
"I can't. Only two ways to end a contract with the Void Lord: fulfill it completely, or have both parties willingly dissolve it."
"Then let's dissolve it!"
"I can't." Pryce's voice broke. "Because I'm not fully me anymore. Part of my soul was consumed by the Void Lord when I made the deal. What's left—what haunts this palace—is just an echo. A ghost bound to carry out the contract's terms."
"Which are?"
"Possess you completely. Ensure no other soul ever claims yours. And when you finally surrender willingly, the contract is fulfilled and I cease to exist."
Rhys stared at him. "You're saying if I choose you, you disappear?"
"Yes."
"And if I don't?"
"The cycle continues. Forever. With each life, the Void Lord feeds on your suffering and my obsession. That's the real purpose of the curse—not love, but an eternal food source for something that feeds on dark emotions."
"So we're both just... food?"
"Yes." Pryce looked at Liam. "And Cassian's soul is part of it too. The eternal rival, trying to save you, always failing. The Void Lord finds that particularly delicious."
Liam stood slowly. "Then we kill the Void Lord."
Pryce actually laughed. "You can't kill a Void Lord. It's not a creature. It's a concept. The abstract idea of obsessive love given consciousness."
"Everything can be killed."
"Not this." Pryce turned back to Rhys. "There are only two choices: surrender to me and end my existence, freeing your future lives but damning your current one. Or refuse, and condemn us both to eternal repetition."
"That's not a choice!"
"It's the only one we have." Pryce's form began to fade. "Seventeen days, Rhys. Then the contract demands an answer."
"Wait—what happens in seventeen days specifically?"
Pryce's smile was sad. "The one-month mark. When the Void Lord allows me to claim you fully, whether you consent or not. Unless you surrender willingly first."
"That's rape!"
"That's the contract." Pryce vanished completely. "Sleep well, beloved. While you still can."
Rhys and Liam stared at each other in the darkness.
"We're going to kill a Void Lord," Liam said finally.
"You said everything can be killed."
"I lied. I have no idea how to kill a concept."
"Then we better figure it out fast." Rhys's voice was steel. "Because I'm not surrendering. And I'm not being claimed by force. So we're killing a god or dying trying."
"That's insane."
"Everything about this is insane." Rhys met his eyes. "You in?"
Liam thought about running. About leaving this cursed palace and never looking back.
But he also thought about Cassian's final moments—dying with the regret of failing Elara.
"I'm in," he said. "Let's kill a god."