Kael's POV
"Stop her!" I roared.
My guards rushed forward, but their swords passed right through the floating figure. She laughed—a sound like breaking glass.
"You can't touch me, Kael. I'm already dead, remember? You made sure of that."
Seraphina pressed against my side, trembling but not screaming. Brave. Or perhaps too shocked to scream.
"Elara," I said, and the name felt like poison on my tongue. "My first bride. I thought you died from fever."
"Is that what you told yourself?" The ghost drifted closer, and I saw movement beneath her veil—something writhing. "You brought me here, married me, then ignored me while you ruled your empire. I wasted away from loneliness and heartbreak. But before I died, I made a promise."
The blood dripping from her hands began to float upward, forming symbols in the air. Dark magic. Ancient magic.
"I swore that if I couldn't have your love, no one would. So I stayed. Every bride you brought here, I killed. Seventeen women dead by my hands." She pointed at Seraphina. "And now, eighteen."
"Why?" Seraphina's voice rang out clear and strong. "Why kill innocent women? We didn't hurt you!"
"You REPLACED me!" Elara shrieked, and the temperature dropped so fast I could see our breath. "Each of you thought you could be his empress. Each of you thought you could make him human again. But he's MINE. He was always supposed to be mine!"
The ghost lunged.
I shoved Seraphina behind me and drew my sword, even knowing it was useless. But as Elara's ghostly hands reached for us, light exploded from Seraphina.
Pure golden light, bright as the sun.
Elara screamed and flew backward, crashing into the far wall. The light faded, and Seraphina collapsed. I caught her before she hit the ground.
"What—" she gasped. "What was that?"
"Magic," Ryn said, appearing at my side with his sword drawn. "Divine magic. Your Majesty, she's—"
"Thalia's bloodline," I finished. "The priestess who cursed me."
The torches flickered back to life. Elara was gone, but I could still feel her presence, watching from the shadows.
"She'll be back," I said, lifting Seraphina in my arms. She weighed almost nothing. "Ryn, seal the empress's chambers with every ward we have. Mordain—" I looked around. "Where is Mordain?"
"He left during the darkness, Your Majesty," a guard reported.
Convenient.
I carried Seraphina through the corridors while guards scrambled around us. Her head rested against my chest, and I felt her heartbeat—fast and frightened but steady.
"I don't understand," she whispered. "Why did light come from me? I'm nobody. I have no magic."
"You have everything," I said quietly. "You're the key to breaking my curse. And Elara knows it. That's why she's so desperate to kill you."
We reached the empress's chambers. I laid Seraphina on the bed while healers rushed in. She grabbed my wrist before I could leave.
"You were going to marry me," she said. "Before Elara appeared. Why? You don't need another dead bride."
I looked down at her hand on my wrist. Her touch was warm. When was the last time I'd felt warmth?
"Because my blood turned gold," I admitted. "Because the curse is breaking. Because you're different from the others." I paused. "And because I'm tired of death."
Her eyes widened. "You... you're tired?"
"I've been tired for three hundred years." I gently removed her hand. "Rest. Tomorrow, we'll figure out how to keep you alive."
I left before she could respond.
In the corridor, Ryn waited. "Your Majesty, we need to discuss what happened. If Elara has been here the entire time—"
"Then someone has been helping her," I finished. "Ghosts can't maintain that kind of power alone. She has an anchor. Someone alive is feeding her magic."
"Mordain?"
"Perhaps." I thought about the tonic he'd given me every night for three centuries. "Or perhaps he's been keeping me weak. Compliant. Unable to feel enough to realize what was happening under my own roof."
We walked to my study. Inside, I poured wine I wouldn't drink and stood at the window. Three hundred years of brides dying, and I'd never questioned it. Never investigated. Never cared enough to stop it.
What kind of monster was I?
"Your Majesty," Ryn said carefully. "Your blood is still gold. The curse is definitely breaking."
"Because of her." I touched my chest, feeling my heart beat with unfamiliar rhythm. "Seraphina. Just being near her... I felt fear tonight, Ryn. Real fear. When Elara attacked, I was terrified she'd hurt Seraphina."
"That's good, isn't it? Feeling again?"
"I don't know." I looked at my hands—hands that had killed thousands without remorse. "What if feeling everything means facing everything I've done? Three hundred years of cruelty. How do I live with that?"
"One day at a time," Ryn said. "Starting with keeping your bride alive."
A knock interrupted us. A servant entered, bowing low. "Your Majesty, you're requested in the throne room. There's been... a development."
We hurried to the throne room. What I found there made my blood—golden, mortal blood—run cold.
Seventeen bodies lay arranged in a circle on the floor.
My seventeen dead brides.
They shouldn't exist. They'd been buried years, decades, even centuries ago. But here they were, perfectly preserved, their dead eyes open and staring at the ceiling.
And in the center of the circle sat a letter written in blood:
"Dear Husband,
Did you think I would let her break the curse? Did you think I'd allow you to love someone else?
These are my gifts to you—reminders of every woman who tried to take my place. I killed them all. And I'll kill Seraphina too.
But first, I'm going to make her suffer. I'm going to show her exactly what happened to each of them. Every. Single. Death.
The wedding is tomorrow at sunset. You'll marry her properly, in front of the court, and watch me take her from you the moment you say 'I do.'
Unless...
You give me what I want. What I've always wanted.
Love me, Kael. Look at me the way you looked at her tonight. Give me your heart willingly, and I'll let her live.
You have until sunset tomorrow to decide.
Who dies—your curse, or your bride?
Your devoted wife,Elara"
I crumpled the letter in my fist.
"She's insane," Ryn breathed, staring at the bodies. "Your Majesty, we can't let this wedding happen. It's a trap."
"Of course it's a trap." I turned to leave, my mind racing. "But we're going through with it anyway."
"What? You can't—"
"If I refuse, Elara will kill Seraphina tonight. At least this way, we have time to prepare." I stopped at the door. "Ryn, I need you to find out everything about Thalia's bloodline. Why Seraphina has divine magic. How it works. Everything."
"And what will you do?"
I looked back at the seventeen bodies—seventeen women I'd failed to protect. Seventeen deaths on my hands because I'd been too cursed, too empty, too broken to care.
Not this time.
"I'm going to break a three-hundred-year pattern," I said. "I'm going to save my bride instead of letting her die."
I returned to Seraphina's chambers. She was awake, sitting up in bed, a healer bandaging her wrists where the chains had cut her.
"You should be resting," I said.
"Hard to rest when a ghost wants to murder me." She looked up, and her eyes were fierce despite her fear. "What aren't you telling me?"
Smart girl.
I sat in the chair beside her bed. "The wedding is tomorrow at sunset. Elara is demanding we go through with it. And the moment the ceremony ends, she'll try to kill you."
Seraphina's face went pale. "Then don't marry me. Send me back."
"Your father will kill you."
"Then I'll run away. Disappear. At least I'd have a chance—"
"No." The word came out harder than I intended. "I've let seventeen women die in this palace. I won't let you be the eighteenth."
"Why?" She leaned forward. "Why do you care? You said yourself you feel nothing."
I met her eyes and told her the truth. "I'm starting to feel again. Because of you. And the first thing I'm feeling is responsibility for every death that happened under my roof." I stood. "So tomorrow, we'll marry. And we'll fight. And you'll survive."
"How can you be so sure?"
"Because," I said, heading for the door, "you have divine magic. You can fight ghosts. And I'm betting Elara doesn't know how powerful you really are."
I was at the door when Seraphina spoke again.
"Kael?"
I turned. She'd never used my name before.
"If we survive tomorrow," she said quietly, "promise me something."
"What?"
"Promise me you'll tell me the truth about everything. The curse. Your first bride. Why you really brought me here." Her eyes held mine. "No more secrets."
I should have said no. Should have kept my distance.
Instead, I nodded. "No more secrets."
I left, closing the door behind me.
In the hallway, I leaned against the wall and felt my heart pounding. Fear. Determination. And something else—something I couldn't name but that made my chest ache.
Tomorrow, I would marry a woman I barely knew to save her from a ghost I'd created by my own neglect.
And somewhere in this palace, the person helping Elara was planning our deaths.
I looked down at my hands and watched golden blood flow through my veins beneath the skin.
The curse was breaking.
I just had to survive long enough to see it through.