The ruins above ground were worse than Selene had imagined.
She blinked against the dim, crimson light spilling from fractured windows, the moon bleeding through clouds like a wound across the sky. The castle's once-proud towers were shattered into jagged silhouettes, their spires like blackened teeth biting the horizon. Ash drifted in spirals, settling on the cracked marble floors as though the air itself mourned.
Auren moved ahead, silent and deliberate, every step measured. Even now, the centuries of solitude did not make him less terrifying. He was a shadow among shadows, tall, unyielding, and impossibly still — a figure carved from grief and fire.
Selene's gaze followed him, her hands still shaking from the dungeon encounter. Her chest tightened as she realized how easily she had trusted him — a man spoken of only in legends, one who might have killed her if he had chosen differently. Yet, in those brief moments, she had felt the faint warmth of something almost human beneath the curse.
"This place…" she whispered, stepping over a broken column, her voice echoing off stone walls. "It's… like time stopped here."
Auren did not reply immediately. He paused, turning his face slightly, golden eyes catching the faint light. "It did," he said at last, his voice low, resonant. "Elarion hasn't moved for centuries. The curse froze it — trapped it between life and death."
Selene's stomach churned. "You mean… no one lives here? Not even ghosts?"
He shook his head slowly. "Some linger… but they are shadows of what was. Echoes, not souls. This kingdom… this castle… it remembers only grief."
A chill swept through the hall, carrying the faint scent of incense long burned away. Selene inhaled sharply, gripping the edge of a ruined railing. Her magic, still faint and uneven, whispered in warning beneath her skin. Something in the air hummed — not danger, exactly, but a kind of awareness, as if the walls themselves watched her.
"You feel it too, don't you?" Auren asked, breaking the silence. He had stopped beside a fallen statue, his hand brushing over the cracked marble face of a forgotten queen. "The residue of power. The echoes of old sorcery. You carry the same blood that cursed this place."
Selene froze, her pulse quickening. "What do you mean?"
He turned to face her, and the air between them seemed to thicken. Even in the midst of ruins, he carried the authority of a king — of a man who had once commanded armies and magic alike. Yet in his eyes, there was something softer, almost weary. "Your ancestors were witches," he said quietly, "and they fought us… fought me. Long ago, your kind bound me with a curse I have carried ever since. And now, you — by blood and by magic — have awakened me."
Selene's heart pounded. The weight of his words pressed down on her chest, heavier than any chains. She had never felt the pull of history so intimately, so personally. "I… I didn't know," she whispered. "I wasn't… I didn't—"
"You awakened me," Auren said, his tone neither accusing nor gentle, merely factual. "And because of that, you are now part of this — whether you wish it or not."
Selene swallowed hard, searching his face for something familiar, something human. There was grief there, so deep it made her chest ache, but there was also… restraint. He did not reach for her, did not even touch her. And yet, the pull between them was undeniable. Something tethered them together, fragile as gossamer, yet unyielding.
The hall beneath them trembled suddenly, sending dust into the air and loose stones clattering across the floor. Selene instinctively stepped closer to Auren, though not touching him — a silent acknowledgment that, for all his power, she would not be left behind.
"Stay close," he murmured, though his gaze never left the ruined arches ahead. "The curse isn't the only thing alive here."
Her breath caught. "Alive?"
"Yes," he said, stepping over the debris with ease. "The old magics of this castle… they remember those who trespass. They test you. They guard what remains."
Selene's hands twitched with the need to weave a protective spell, but her energy was still weak. Even so, she extended a subtle barrier, just enough to shimmer along their path. The effect was immediate. Shadows recoiled slightly, curling back into the corners as though respecting her presence.
Auren's lips curved faintly — the closest he had come to a smile since she met him. "You have strength," he said softly. "Stronger than most mortals. Perhaps… even stronger than some witches."
Selene met his gaze, her heart racing, though she did not know whether it was fear, awe, or something more complicated. "I just survived a dungeon," she said, trying to mask her nerves with sarcasm. "Strength doesn't mean I want to survive a cursed prince on top of it."
He turned his golden eyes on her, sharp and unwavering. "I am not here to harm you. Not unless you make me."
She froze at the quiet intensity of his words. There was no threat in them, but no promise either — only the weight of centuries trapped in one man. The very air seemed to thrum between them, a tension neither could ignore.
Then the floor shivered beneath their feet again. The shadows stretched unnaturally, and faint whispers echoed from the walls.
Auren's expression darkened. "The castle knows you are here," he said. "It will test you. And it will not be gentle."
Selene took a steadying breath, willing her fear into focus. "Then we test it together," she said.
He looked at her long and hard, his golden eyes unreadable. Then, slowly, he nodded.
Together, they moved deeper into the ruined palace, the silence of centuries pressing down around them, the whispers of lost magic curling like smoke around their ankles. Every step was a negotiation with the ghosts of the past, every glance between them an unspoken acknowledgment of the fragile connection growing in the dark.
Somewhere far above, the blood moon drifted behind the clouds, its crimson light spilling over shattered spires. The kingdom was dead, yet it watched them, and the prince who had lived too long already knew — the real test had only just begun.
And from the depths of the hall, a whisper echoed again, faint and almost human:
"She carries my blood… and my fate."
Selene shivered, her hand tightening over the small amulet at her throat. She glanced at Auren. His eyes, glowing faintly in the gloom, reflected a storm of emotion she could neither name nor resist.
The floor trembled once more, more violently this time. A crack ran along the hall, spreading like a vein of fire. Stones toppled. Shadows surged upward, coiling like living smoke, black and hungry.
Auren took a protective stance in front of her. "Hold fast," he commanded, his voice low and steady, though she could hear the tremor beneath it.
Before Selene could react, a massive shadow lunged from the darkness, swallowing her in cold, writhing blackness.
Auren reached for her, his fingers brushing the edge of her sleeve — but she was gone, swallowed by the darkness in a heartbeat.
And in the silence that followed, only the blood-red moon bore witness to what had just begun.