The morning felt almost normal.
That should have been the warning.
Leah stood near the entrance of the mansion, sunlight warming her blonde hair as she turned toward Izana with that soft, persuasive smile she used when she wanted something simple.
"There's a bookstore downtown that just reopened," she said. "It's small. Quiet. We could go for an hour."
Izana adjusted his gloves slowly.
"You could have it brought here."
"That's not the same."
He knew it wasn't.
She didn't want the books. She wanted the feeling of normalcy.
He exhaled quietly.
"One hour," he agreed.
Relief brightened her expression.
Behind them, security moved discreetly. Two vehicles. Four guards. Rotating coverage.
He doubled the detail without telling her.
The curse remained silent.
Still.
Too still.
The bookstore was tucked between a café and an old tailor's shop. Harmless. Forgettable. The kind of place no one important would ever notice.
Izana stood near the entrance while Leah wandered through the aisles, fingers grazing over spines, occasionally pulling one free and flipping through pages with quiet delight.
He watched her reflection in the glass display.
Alive. Unburdened.
For a moment, the world narrowed to just that.
Then—
His phone vibrated.
One of his internal lines - Dante.
He stepped outside to answer.
"Yes."
A voice on the other end, tense.
"Boss. We found something."
Izana's posture shifted imperceptibly.
"Speak."
"There's been surveillance. Not random. Structured. Leah's routes. Your vehicle rotations. Photos from the event. We intercepted a device near one of the outer checkpoints."
Silence.
"How long?" Izana asked.
"…Weeks."
The air changed.
His gaze lifted slowly across the street.
A black van sat parked two buildings down.
Tinted windows.
Engine idling.
One of his guards stood nearby — but not moving.
Too still.
Izana's voice lowered.
"Where are you?"
"Ten minutes out."
Too far.
Too late.
Inside the bookstore, Leah stepped toward the front counter, a small stack of books in her hands.
Outside, a car abruptly swerved at the intersection.
Metal collided.
A loud crash echoed down the street.
Pedestrians gasped.
One of Izana's guards turned instinctively toward the accident.
Another moved to assist.
The van door slid open.
Time fractured.
Izana was already moving.
But two men stepped from the van first.
Clean. Efficient. No wasted motion.
One intercepted the guard closest to the door — a quick strike, precise and practiced.
The other moved toward the bookstore entrance.
Inside, Leah glanced up at the noise outside.
Confusion flickered across her face.
The bookstore door opened.
A man stepped inside.
"Miss, there's been an accident—."
His hand shot forward.
Leah reacted on instinct, books falling as she twisted away, but his grip caught her wrist.
The second man reached for her shoulder.
"Let go—." she started.
Then she saw him.
Izana.
Across the street.
His expression—
Gone.
Not angry.
Not shouting.
Empty.
She didn't scream.
She didn't panic.
She called his name.
"Izana!"
That was enough.
Something detonated behind his eyes.
The curse surged back.
Not as a whisper.
Not as a flicker.
As a violent explosion of light and agony.
His vision flared white.
Pain lanced through his skull, searing and electric.
For half a second, the world dissolved into brightness and distortion.
Then the pain sharpened.
Focused.
Fueled.
His hand rose to his blindfold.
And without hesitation—
He tore it off.
Sunlight struck his uncovered eyes like a blade.
The world burned.
But he needed to see her.
He needed clarity.
Through the blaze of brightness and curse-driven distortion, he locked onto Leah.
The man gripping her wrist tightened his hold.
Wrong choice.
Izana crossed the distance faster than anyone anticipated.
The first kidnapper barely registered movement before Izana's fist connected with his throat.
A single, devastating strike.
The man collapsed, gasping.
The second attempted to pull Leah backward toward the door—
Izana's voice cut through the chaos.
"Touch her again."
It wasn't loud.
It didn't need to be.
The man hesitated.
For one fatal second.
Izana's hand closed around his collar and slammed him into the wooden frame of the bookstore entrance.
The impact cracked the frame.
The man tried to recover, swinging wildly—
Izana stepped inside the motion, deflecting, striking twice in rapid succession. Rib. Jaw.
Precise.
Calculated.
The curse roared through him, heightening every sense.
The sunlight didn't weaken him.
It sharpened him.
He felt it — that terrifying alignment.
The curse wasn't punishing him.
It was feeding him.
The man staggered, reaching for Leah again in desperation.
Izana caught his wrist mid-air.
Twisted.
A sickening snap echoed faintly.
The man screamed.
Izana didn't react.
He shoved him backward into the open van door.
Hard.
The body crumpled.
Silence fell heavily over the street.
The staged accident drivers had fled.
Pedestrians scattered.
His remaining guards rushed forward, stunned.
Leah stood frozen near the bookstore entrance, breathing unevenly.
Izana turned toward her.
His eyes—
Too bright.
Light reflecting unnaturally.
The curse burned through him like wildfire.
His hands trembled.
Not from fear.
From power barely contained.
Leah stepped toward him slowly.
"Izana…"
He barely heard her over the rushing sound in his head.
She reached for him.
His vision blurred at the edges.
"Izana, look at me."
He forced his gaze downward.
Focused on her.
Blue eyes.
Blonde hair catching the sun.
Alive.
Safe.
The moment clarity settled over her face—
The curse recoiled.
Not gone.
But subdued.
The pain dulled.
His breathing steadied.
The brightness normalized.
Like a predator satisfied.
He blinked hard and turned away slightly, retrieving the blindfold from where it had fallen.
His hands shook as he tied it back into place.
"I'm fine," he said quietly.
She didn't believe him.
But she didn't argue.
Instead, she stepped closer and pressed her forehead briefly against his chest.
He stilled again.
Grounded.
Behind them, one of his men approached cautiously.
"Boss. They're alive. We can interrogate."
Izana nodded once.
"Bring them."
Back at the mansion, the interrogation confirmed what he already knew.
It was the rival.
But not to complete the act.
To test it.
Response time. Security reaction. His behavior.
A rehearsal.
Izana stood alone in his office afterward.
The room dark.
Blindfold removed once more.
His uncovered eyes adjusted slowly to the dim light.
The curse whispered faintly now.
Satisfied.
Hungry.
Again.
He clenched his jaw.
Across the city, the rival watched footage from a recovered street camera.
Izana removing the blindfold. Moving through sunlight. Breaking men like they were made of paper.
A slow smile curved his lips.
"So that's how he fractures," he murmured.
He closed the screen.
"This will be interesting."
Back at the mansion, Leah stood in the doorway of Izana's office.
He didn't hear her enter.
His eyes — unshielded — glowed faintly in the dark.
Not human.
Not entirely.
She stepped inside anyway.
"I'm still here," she said softly.
The whispering inside him quieted.
Just a little.
But not completely.
The calm was gone now.
Still waters had broken.
And something far more dangerous had surfaced.