The night before the ritual felt unreal.
Outside, the Forgotten Garden pulsed with a faint, sickly glow, like a dying heart still trying to beat.
The dead branches swayed without wind, shadows crawling over the soil in restless circles.
Inside the mansion, Rhea sat on the edge of the bed, staring at her hands.
Her mark glowed faint gold—calm… but waiting.
Adrian entered quietly, a soft tray in hand.
"You haven't eaten."
"I'm not hungry."
"You need strength."
His tone left no room for refusal.
Rhea looked at him—his torn shirt replaced, his shoulder freshly bandaged.
But she could still see the dried blood at the edge of the wrap.
"You got hurt because of me."
Adrian knelt in front of her, gently taking her hand.
"I got hurt protecting you. That is my choice."
She lowered her gaze, voice trembling.
"What if tomorrow… I don't come back?"
Adrian's jaw tightened.
He came closer, lifting her chin so she couldn't look away.
"Rhea. Listen to me. You will come back."
His eyes burned with conviction.
"Because I'm your anchor. As long as I'm here, you cannot get lost."
Rhea's breath caught.
"But what if the garden tries to break that connection?"
"Then I'll pull you out by force," he murmured.
"I'll burn the entire curse down if I have to."
Something inside Rhea cracked—not in fear, but in overwhelming emotion.
"Adrian…"
Her voice broke.
"I'm scared."
He drew her into his arms without hesitation.
His warmth surrounded her, steady and grounding.
"You're allowed to be scared," he whispered into her hair.
"But you're not alone."
Rhea clutched his shirt tightly, letting the reality sink in.
He wasn't just a contract.
Not just a protector.
He was something far deeper.
Preparing for the Ritual
Later that night, they walked to the mansion's central hall, where the ritual circle was drawn in gold ink.
Candles that blazed white fire, a pure energy extracted from the house, filled the room.
Adrian positioned himself outside the circle, while Rhea stood in the middle.
"You must not break eye contact," she said softly, repeating the instructions from the ancient book.
Adrian nodded.
"And you must keep speaking. Even if it hurts."
Rhea inhaled slowly.
"I'm ready."
He held her gaze.
"Then begin."
Rhea lifted her marked hand.
The candle flames rose in response.
"The chosen bride enters the path," she recited, her voice echoing in the room.
"The anchor remains in the world of breath."
A faint wind stirred, though there were no open windows.
"The bride crosses into the memory of the lost."
The ground beneath her feet vibrated faintly.
Adrian stepped closer to the circle's edge, eyes never leaving hers.
"Rhea—whatever you see, you hold on to my voice."
She nodded, heartbeat pounding.
The wind grew stronger.
Candles flickered violently.
Then—
A sharp pain shot through her wrist, and her mark ignited with golden fire.
Rhea gasped.
Adrian moved instinctively, trying to reach her—but an invisible barrier pulsed between them.
"Rhea!"
His voice cut through the growing roar.
"Stay with me. Look at me."
Her vision blurred.
The world rippled.
It felt like two realities were overlapping.
She could hear the mansion…
But also something else—
Soft crying.
Dozens of voices.
Whispers of women long forgotten.
The brides.
Her breath hitched.
A cold hand brushed her shoulder—
but she knew it wasn't Adrian.
Rhea's body trembled as the garden's pull strengthened, trying to drag her spirit away.
Adrian's voice reached her through the chaos.
"Rhea! Say something—anything!"
She forced her eyes open, tears burning.
"I… I'm here!"
"Good," he said, voice breaking with urgency.
"Stay with me. You will come back. Do you hear me? You will come back."
The circle blazed with golden light.
The ritual was working.
Rhea's spirit began separating from her body—
a strange, weightless feeling
like stepping out of herself.
Adrian slammed his palm against the barrier, desperate.
"Rhea! Hold on!"
She looked at him—really looked.
His fear.
His determination.
His fierce love that he still refused to name.
Rhea whispered the final line:
"Let the bride cross…
and let the anchor hold."
With a blinding pulse—
Rhea's spirit was pulled into the Forgotten Garden.
Her body collapsed within the circle.
Adrian caught her just before she hit the ground, cradling her limp form.
"Rhea… Come back to me," he whispered, voice trembling.
Outside the mansion,
the garden awoke—
glowing with ominous life.
Rhea had crossed the threshold.
And what awaited her inside
was the beginning of the final reckoning.