The next morning, Seraphina woke with an ache behind her eyes.
She blinked slowly, recalling the feel of Darian's shoulder beneath her cheek, the quiet rise and fall of his breath beside her. The hidden tower. The prophecy. The way his voice had held no judgment—only warmth.
She smiled faintly… but then something cold slithered down her spine.
She turned to her vanity mirror.
And froze.
There—etched in fog on the glass—were words.
> "Burn, cursed child."
Seraphina stumbled back, her pulse racing.
The mirror cracked at the center with a sharp snap, as if something had clawed it from the inside.
---
The Curse Unleashed
The Academy was buzzing with preparations for the Moonlight Masquerade Ball, but Seraphina wasn't listening to the laughter echoing down the halls.
She stood alone in the courtyard beneath a tree, her hand trembling.
Her magic—normally stable—was shivering. Like it sensed something.
Like it feared something.
She didn't hear the footsteps until it was too late.
A dark pulse surged through the ground—runes glowing red beneath the grass. A curse circle.
Seraphina's eyes widened.
"No—!"
Vines of black fire whipped out of the ground, wrapping around her wrists and ankles, dragging her toward the glowing core.
The curse whispered.
> "Sinner. Destroyer. Die before you destroy again."
Her body screamed in pain. The spell wasn't just hurting her—it was digging into her soul.
---
"Get away from her!"
A voice tore through the courtyard like thunder.
A figure dashed forward, arms glowing with raw magic.
Darian.
He didn't hesitate.
Didn't stop to think.
He dove straight into the curse circle, grabbing Seraphina as the fire-vines clawed at her skin.
"You idiot," she gasped, "you'll die too—!"
"I don't care!"
His hand gripped hers.
Something inside him cracked.
And then—
A burst of light exploded from his chest, blasting the curse apart.
The vines screamed and shriveled.
The runes cracked and burned.
And silence fell.
---
Falling Into His Arms
Seraphina collapsed into him, panting.
Darian held her tight, his heart pounding against her back.
"What… was that?" she whispered.
"I don't know," he said, voice shaking. "I just… I couldn't let it take you."
"You used magic," she said, turning to look at him. "But that wasn't normal. That felt… ancient."
Darian looked down at his hands, still glowing faintly with silver.
"I've never used magic like that before," he admitted. "It just—happened."
Seraphina stared at him, wide-eyed.
She had thought he was ordinary.
Soft. Quiet. Harmless.
But maybe… he was something more.
Maybe she wasn't the only one hiding a secret.
---
Later That Night…
Darian sat at the edge of the garden, his coat wrapped around his arms. His hair was tousled, and he looked a little pale.
Seraphina approached slowly, sitting beside him.
"I never got to say thank you," she said, her voice quiet.
"You don't have to—"
"I do." She looked at him. "You saved my life."
He looked away, ears turning red. "You saved mine first. You just… didn't know it."
She tilted her head. "What do you mean?"
He gave her a small smile. Sad. Beautiful.
"You were the first person who saw me. Really saw me."
Silence settled between them like soft snow.
Then—
Seraphina reached out and took his hand.
Not out of weakness.
Not out of fear.
But because for the first time, she wanted to share the weight she carried.
Even if just for a moment.
---
Far Away…
In the shadows of the royal palace, a masked figure knelt before a mirror filled with smoke.
"The cursed child grows stronger," they hissed. "And she's no longer alone."
The smoke trembled.
"Then we will cut out her heart—and the boy's—before fate awakens fully."
A symbol burned in the air: a red crown cracked in two.