The flickering torchlight painted shadows across Damian's face, but none could mask the dread in his eyes.
Ariella had never seen him like this—so shaken, so raw. He stood rigid in the underground chamber, the cracked mirror behind them still humming faintly with residual magic. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears as she waited for him to explain.
"Tell me," she demanded softly. "What prophecy?"
Damian's voice was gravel as he spoke. "There's a legend tied to my family... a prophecy written in blood and sealed in magic. It's said that one day, the heir of Blackwood would fall for a girl whose soul wasn't chosen by the bloodline—someone pure, someone untouched by the curse. And the moment he does, the curse would awaken fully... and the world as we know it would begin to unravel."
Ariella stared at him, struggling to breathe. "So you think I'm that girl?"
Damian met her eyes. "I know you are."
Her heart twisted. "But you didn't choose to love me. You fought it."
"I did," he whispered. "And still I failed."
There was pain in his voice—real, soul-deep pain. The kind of pain that came not from weakness, but from love denied and destiny defied.
Ariella took a step toward him. "So what now? Am I supposed to walk away? Let this—curse—win? Pretend none of this ever happened?"
He didn't answer right away. Instead, he turned toward the cracked mirror. "The man you saw... the Warden of the Curse… he only appears when the prophecy is close to fulfillment. He's not just a spirit—he's a judge. A reminder. If we continue down this path, someone will die. The curse demands sacrifice."
Ariella's breath caught. "Whose life?"
His silence was all the answer she needed.
It could be hers.
Or his.
Or someone innocent.
"I won't leave you," she said, fierce and trembling. "Even if I'm not chosen. Even if this curse wants to tear us apart, I won't let it. You're not just some cursed CEO hiding behind shadows and secrets. You're... you're the only person who's ever made me feel seen."
Damian looked at her, something shifting in his eyes—hope, despair, desire. All tangled.
He reached out and touched her cheek, thumb brushing softly against her skin. "And you're the only thing I've ever wanted but was never allowed to have."
A gust of wind surged through the chamber. The torches blew out.
And then, a soft echo filled the room. Not from Damian. Not from Ariella.
> "The heart he can't have… will be the heart that breaks him."
Ariella froze. The voice was familiar.
Too familiar.
Her eyes widened.
> It was her own voice—whispering from the darkness.
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