Rhea's heart pounded painfully inside her chest.
Chosen.
Marked.
Bound.
The golden symbol on her wrist still glowed faintly, pulsing like a second heartbeat.
It wasn't just on her skin—
It throbbed through her veins.
Adrian carried her into one of the guest rooms, far from the cursed hallway.
He placed her gently on the bed, but his hands lingered on her shoulders as if he feared she'd vanish.
"Adrian… talk to me," Rhea whispered, her voice trembling.
"I need to know what's happening."
He sat on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, hands clasped tightly.
For the first time since she had known him, he looked… defeated.
"The mansion didn't just mark you," Adrian said quietly.
"It claimed you."
Rhea's breath caught.
"Claimed me? For what?"
He lifted his gaze—dark, haunted.
"For itself."
She frowned.
"I don't understand—"
"The mansion chooses one woman," he continued, voice hollow, "once in a generation. Someone with a soul strong enough to either break the curse… or fuel it."
Rhea's blood ran cold.
Fuel it?
Adrian stood abruptly, running a hand through his hair in frustration.
"Lilith wasn't chosen," he said. "She wanted to be. She tried to be. And when the mansion ignored her, she cursed it out of spite. Out of obsession."
His jaw clenched.
"And she cursed me with it."
Rhea swallowed.
"So now the mansion thinks I'm… that woman? The one with the strong soul?"
Adrian sat back down beside her, gently taking her hand.
"No," he whispered. "It didn't think."
His fingers traced the glowing mark on her wrist.
"It knew."
Rhea felt a strange chill crawl up her spine, but before she could speak, a sharp sting shot through the mark.
She winced.
"Adrian—it's burning—"
He grabbed her wrist, panic flashing in his eyes as the mark brightened again.
"No… no, no, no—it's starting."
Rhea's heart hammered.
"What's starting?!"
He took a deep breath.
"The stages."
Rhea felt ice settle in her stomach.
"Stages of what?"
Adrian looked at her painfully.
"The stages of the mansion binding itself to you."
Her breath stopped.
He tightened his grip on her trembling hand.
"Rhea… This mark means the mansion will slowly attempt to merge its presence with your soul. Piece by piece."
She jerked her hand back in horror.
"What—no! I don't want that!"
"I know," he whispered, voice breaking.
"I know you don't."
"Then remove it! Break it! Do something—"
He closed his eyes.
"I can't."
The room spun around her.
Adrian suddenly cupped her face in both hands, forcing her to look at him.
"But listen to me—everything isn't lost. The mansion can be resisted. The curse can be broken. You still have time."
Rhea blinked rapidly, her throat tight.
"How much time?"
Adrian hesitated.
Rhea's stomach dropped.
"Adrian… how long?"
He finally spoke.
"Three stages. And you've already passed the first."
Rhea froze.
"What happens in the third?"
Adrian didn't answer.
Instead, he dropped his forehead to hers, his voice shaking.
"The third stage means the mansion takes your soul… and you become a part of it forever."
Her breath hitched sharply.
Become part of the mansion?
Its walls?
Its darkness?
Its curse?
"No," she whispered, tearing away, panic rising in her chest. "No, Adrian, I can't—I won't—"
Adrian grabbed her shoulders gently but firmly.
"And I won't let it happen!"
His voice cracked open—raw, desperate.
"You listen to me, Rhea. I failed once. I failed to stop Lilith's curse. I failed to save anyone before. But you—"
He swallowed hard.
"You I will not lose."
Rhea stared at him, stunned.
His emotions—so real, so exposed—hit her like a tidal wave.
"Adrian…" she whispered.
He looked at her with eyes blazing with something fierce.
Determination.
Fear.
And something he hadn't said out loud yet.
Something that made her chest ache.
"You're not dying," he said firmly.
"You're not becoming part of this mansion. Not while I'm breathing."
Rhea's trembling slowed.
But then—
A cold draft swept through the room.
Adrian stiffened.
Rhea felt it too—an icy hand trailing across the back of her neck.
Lilith's voice slithered through the air:
"Let him try to save you, little bride.
The mansion always gets what it wants."
Rhea's blood ran cold.
Adrian pulled her into his side.
The mark on her wrist pulsed again—brighter this time.
Stage two was coming.