The taste of Damien's kiss still lingered on her lips when the silence shattered.
A loud crack echoed through the penthouse, like lightning splitting glass. Evelyn jerked back, breathless, heart racing. Her eyes darted to the balcony—and froze.
The mirror over the bar… was cracking.
A thin fracture slithered across its surface like a living serpent, glowing faintly with the same golden hue as the runes on her skin. And then—
A face appeared.
Not Damien's reflection. Not hers.
Someone else.
A man, tall and regal, with hair black as obsidian and eyes like burning embers. He wore a dark suit trimmed with gold, and his smile… God, that smile was wicked enough to make the shadows tremble.
"Evelyn Hart," the voice purred through the glass, smooth as silk, sharp as knives. "At last… we meet."
Evelyn stumbled back, her chest heaving. "What—what is that?!"
Damien stepped in front of her instantly, shielding her with his body. His voice dropped into a lethal growl. "Lucien."
The name was a curse.
The man in the mirror chuckled. "Ah, cousin. How long has it been? Ten years? Fifteen?" His ember eyes flicked to Evelyn, and something inside her recoiled. "And this… this is the little bride who carries the curse."
Evelyn gripped Damien's arm. "Damien… who is he?"
Damien didn't look at her. His jaw was clenched so tight it could break steel. "Get out of my house, Lucien."
"Oh, but why would I do that?" Lucien's smile widened. "When I can come in?"
The glass shattered.
Evelyn screamed as shards exploded into the room, glittering like knives in the air. Damien grabbed her, spinning her against his chest, shielding her from the rain of glass. Pain sliced across his shoulders as blood bloomed through his shirt, but he didn't flinch.
When the last shard fell, Lucien was no longer in the mirror.
He was in the room.
---
Damien shoved Evelyn behind him, his gun flashing into his hand like a shadow-born blade. "You've made your first mistake," he said, voice cold as ice. "Coming here."
Lucien's chuckle slithered across the room like smoke. "And your mistake, cousin, was thinking you could hide her from me."
His gaze fell on Evelyn, lingering with an intimacy that made her skin crawl. "She's exquisite. No wonder the curse chose her."
Evelyn's voice broke. "What curse? Why are you doing this?!"
Lucien tilted his head, his grin spreading slow and cruel. "Because you belong to me."
Damien moved before she could even breathe—gun raised, trigger squeezed. The shot cracked like thunder, glowing blue as it struck Lucien square in the chest.
He didn't even flinch.
The bullet melted against his skin like water on fire.
Lucien laughed.
Damien swore under his breath and shoved Evelyn toward the hall. "Run."
She froze. "No! I'm not leaving you—"
"Evelyn!" His roar shook the walls. "Run, damn it!"
Tears stung her eyes as she turned and bolted down the corridor, her bare feet silent on the cold marble floor. Behind her, the sound of fists colliding, glass breaking, and walls shattering echoed like a war drum.
Damien fought like a beast unleashed, his every movement pure, lethal grace. But Lucien was something else entirely—stronger, faster, almost… untouchable.
"Why protect her, Damien?" Lucien's voice boomed through the hall as Evelyn ran. "She's already marked. You know what happens when the ninety days end."
"I won't let that happen," Damien snarled, slamming a punch into Lucien's jaw. The impact cracked the marble floor beneath their feet.
Lucien only laughed harder, throwing Damien across the room with a flick of his hand. "Oh, cousin," he purred. "You've already lost."
---
Evelyn crashed into the master bedroom, slamming the door shut behind her, heart pounding like a drum. She pressed her back to the door, gasping, every muscle trembling.
Then she saw it.
The mirror above the dresser.
Cracked.
And in its reflection… Lucien's ember eyes.
"You can't hide from destiny, Evelyn," the voice whispered in her mind. "You were never his. You were always mine."
She screamed.
The mirror splintered as Evelyn stumbled back, her scream echoing off the marble walls. She clutched the dresser for balance, breath ragged, heart slamming in her chest like a war drum.
"Get out of my head!" she cried, hands clamping over her ears. But Lucien's voice wasn't coming from the room. It was inside her. Silken, poisonous, curling around her mind like smoke.
You can run from him, little bride, the voice whispered, honey-sweet and cruel. But you can't run from me.
The door burst open.
Damien stood there, blood streaking down his temple, his once-crisp shirt torn and scorched. His silver eyes burned like twin blades as he scanned the room, landing on her—shaking, pale, terrified.
"Evelyn." His voice cracked, raw and rough, but steady enough to hold her soul together. "Come to me."
She stumbled toward him, but the mirror hissed like a serpent—and then shattered into a storm of shards, hurtling through the air like daggers.
Damien lunged, wrapping her in his arms, spinning so his back took the brunt of the glass. She felt him grunt in pain as shards sliced into his skin, warm blood spilling onto her bare arms.
"Damien—" Her voice broke. "You're bleeding—"
"Doesn't matter." His grip was iron as he pulled her close, his breath hot against her ear. "As long as you're alive."
Something slammed into the doorway.
Lucien.
He stepped inside like a shadow-born king, his smile wicked enough to curdle blood. "Still playing the hero, cousin?" His ember eyes burned brighter as they fell on Evelyn. "And you, my bride… why fight what you were born for?"
Evelyn's knees buckled. Damien caught her, holding her so tight she felt his heart pounding against her ribs. "Don't listen to him," he growled. "He lies."
Lucien's chuckle was a velvet knife. "Does he? Did he tell you what you are, Evelyn? Why the curse chose you?" He tilted his head, lips curling. "Did he tell you the truth… about us?"
Her breath hitched. "What truth?"
Damien's body went rigid.
"Don't you dare," he snarled.
Lucien ignored him. "You're not just a bride, little one. You're the key. The last bloodline that can break the binding spell cast centuries ago." His smile sharpened. "The spell Damien swore to protect—even if it kills you."
Evelyn's stomach dropped. "Damien…" Her voice trembled. "Is that true?"
Silence.
A silence heavier than death.
Lucien laughed, dark and soft. "He didn't tell you because he needs you to live… long enough to save himself."
"No." Damien's voice was a blade. He stepped forward, putting himself between her and the monster in the doorway. "That's enough."
"Oh, cousin," Lucien purred. "You can't keep her from me. Not when the curse already binds her soul to mine."
His hand lifted—and Evelyn's body seized.
Fire exploded under her skin as the runes blazed to life, brighter than ever, burning her veins like molten gold. She screamed, collapsing to her knees, clawing at the floor as agony tore through her.
Damien roared. In a blur of motion, he was on Lucien, slamming him into the wall with bone-cracking force. The marble shattered like ice. But Lucien only grinned, even as Damien's fist drove into his jaw.
"You can't win, Damien," Lucien hissed, his voice dripping venom and velvet. "She's mine."
Damien's fury was a storm. He ripped a blade from his belt—a silver dagger etched with glowing runes—and drove it toward Lucien's heart.
But Lucien caught it with two fingers.
And snapped it in half.
Damien's breath hitched. His silver eyes flicked—once—to Evelyn, writhing on the floor, the runes on her skin pulsing like living fire.
And in that moment, Damien made a choice.
He let go of the fight.
He dove for her, scooping her into his arms. "Hold on," he whispered, voice shaking with something that wasn't fear—but something deeper. "Don't you dare leave me."
With a roar that shook the walls, Damien crashed through the window, glass exploding around them as they plunged into the night sky.
---
⏳ The Escape
The wind howled as Damien landed hard on the rooftop of the next building, his knees buckling from the impact, but he didn't let go. Evelyn clung to him, gasping, the glow on her skin fading to a faint shimmer.
"Damien…" Her voice was broken, barely a breath. "What… what is happening to me?"
He looked down at her, his blood mixing with hers, his silver eyes raw with something she'd never seen before.
Truth.
"You're dying," he said softly. "Unless I break the curse."
Her tears spilled hot and silent. "And if you can't?"
His jaw clenched. "Then I burn with you."
The wind whipped around them, cold and merciless, as sirens wailed far below. In the distance, Lucien's laughter rolled through the night like thunder.
The war had begun.
And time was running out.