Mira's POV
I had maybe six hours until dawn.
Six hours to find whatever door this key opened. Six hours to escape a prison I didn't know, in a body that wasn't mine, in a world that wanted me dead.
I shoved the key down the front of my torn dress, hiding it against my skin. The metal was cold, but somehow it made me feel less alone.
The Dark Lord left this for Seraphina, I thought, pressing my hand over where the key rested. He loved her. He tried to save her.
And I was wearing her face.
Would he be able to tell I wasn't her? Or would he look at me and see the woman he loved, only to realize too late that she was already gone?
The thought made my chest ache in a way I didn't expect.
I started feeling along the cell walls, searching for anything unusual. A hidden door. A loose panel. Any clue about what the key might open.
My fingers found nothing but cold stone and slime.
"Think, Mira," I whispered to myself. "You read the novel. You know this world. Where would the Dark Lord hide an escape route?"
But the problem was, the novel never showed Seraphina in prison. She was executed in the first chapter, her death barely described. The author had treated her like she didn't matter, just a plot device to get killed off quickly.
I had no map. No guide. Nothing.
Footsteps echoed in the corridor again.
I tensed, my hand instinctively covering the key's hiding place. More guards? Had Evangeline changed her mind about waiting until dawn?
But it was just one person this time. Light footsteps. Hesitant.
A woman appeared at the cell bars, and my breath caught.
Lady Celestine Ashford looked exactly like her description in the novel—beautiful in a delicate way, with honey-blonde hair and soft brown eyes that seemed to glow with kindness. She wore a simple white dress with the Temple's sun symbol embroidered on the chest.
She was supposed to be the heroine. The good one.
"Seraphina?" she called softly, her voice trembling. "Are you awake?"
Hope flared in my chest before I could stop it. In the novel, Celestine had been kind, brave, righteous. Maybe—maybe she would help me. Maybe she didn't know what Evangeline really was.
I rushed to the bars. "Celestine! Thank god, please, you have to help me. High Priestess Evangeline is planning to—"
"Execute you at dawn?" Celestine finished, and smiled. "Yes, I know. I helped plan it."
The hope in my chest died instantly.
Celestine's soft, kind expression didn't change. But her eyes—her eyes were cold as ice.
"You look so confused," she said, tilting her head like she was examining an interesting bug. "Did you really think I came here to help you?"
My throat closed up. "But you're... you're the heroine. You're supposed to be good."
"I am good," she said simply. "I'm saving the kingdom from the Dark Lord. You're just the sacrifice we need to make that happen." She leaned closer to the bars, dropping her voice to a whisper. "Did Evangeline tell you the truth? That you're not really Seraphina Blackwood?"
I couldn't speak. Could barely breathe.
"I know all about it," Celestine continued. "I'm the one who killed the real Seraphina three days ago. Poison in her water. She died choking, crying, begging me to help her." Her smile widened. "We were best friends, you know. She trusted me completely."
Nausea rolled through my stomach. "You murdered her."
"I freed her body for a better purpose," Celestine corrected. "Evangeline needed a villainess to sacrifice, and Seraphina's body was perfect. Strong magical compatibility. Pretty enough that her death would be dramatic. And best of all—she was engaged to Caspian Nyx."
She said his name like it was poison on her tongue.
"When Caspian comes to rescue her tomorrow morning," Celestine said dreamily, "he'll find you wearing her face. And when Evangeline executes you in front of him, it will break him completely. He'll either go mad with grief and become the monster we need him to be, or he'll give up and disappear forever. Either way, I win."
"You're insane," I whispered.
"I'm in love," she shot back, and for the first time, real emotion cracked through her perfect mask. "Caspian was supposed to be mine! Before that bitch Seraphina seduced him, before Evangeline exiled him, he was going to choose me! I was supposed to be his bride!"
Her hands gripped the bars so tight her knuckles turned white.
"But he picked her instead. Plain, pathetic Seraphina Blackwood. A nobody from a disgraced family." Celestine's voice shook with rage. "So I made sure she paid for stealing what was mine. And tomorrow, I'll make sure he pays too. I'll watch him suffer the way I suffered."
She released the bars and stepped back, her calm smile returning like a mask sliding back into place.
"I just wanted to see you before dawn," she said sweetly. "Wanted to look into your eyes and tell you the truth: you were dead the moment Evangeline pulled you into this world. No heroes are coming to save you. No last-minute miracles. No escape. You're going to die at sunrise, and nobody will remember your real name."
She turned and walked away, her footsteps fading into the darkness.
I slid down to the floor, my whole body shaking.
She was right. No heroes were coming.
The heroine was a murderer. The priestess was a monster. The villainess was already dead, and I was just a borrowed soul marking time until execution.
Even the Dark Lord—even if he came—he would be coming for Seraphina, not for me. And when he looked into my eyes and realized the woman he loved was gone...
I pulled out the key and stared at it in the dim light.
FOR THE BRIDE OF SHADOWS
My mind raced. The key was important. The Dark Lord wouldn't have left it if it didn't mean something. But what door would it open? What was I supposed to—
Wait.
Bride of Shadows.
Not "Seraphina." Not "my love." Not even "prisoner."
Bride.
My hands trembled as a wild thought took shape.
What if the key wasn't meant to open a prison door at all?
What if it was meant to open something else entirely?
I closed my eyes, digging through Seraphina's fragmented memories. There had been something—a conversation she'd had with Caspian before his exile. Something about tradition. About magic. About—
My eyes snapped open.
"A binding ceremony," I whispered.
In this world, powerful magic users could create binding ceremonies—rituals that tied two souls together across any distance. Fated mates. Eternal bonds. The kind of magic that couldn't be broken by time or space or even death.
Caspian and Seraphina had planned to complete their binding ceremony after he returned from the war. But he'd been exiled before they could finish it.
The key wasn't for a door.
It was for a ritual.
A binding ritual that would call him to me—no matter where he was, no matter what stood between us.
If I could activate it, if I could complete what Seraphina never got to finish...
The Dark Lord would come. Not because he wanted to rescue a stranger, but because the binding magic would give him no choice.
And when he arrived...
I pressed the key against my chest, my heart pounding with desperate hope.
Maybe no heroes were coming to save me.
But I could summon a monster instead.
The only question was: would he kill me when he realized I wasn't Seraphina?
Or would he listen long enough for me to tell him the truth about Evangeline?
Dawn was coming. I could feel it in my bones.
I had one chance.
One desperate, insane, probably-suicidal chance.
I stood up, gripping the key so hard it cut into my palm.
"Okay, Caspian Nyx," I whispered to the darkness. "Let's see if you're the monster they say you are—or if you're something else entirely."
And somewhere far away, in a castle made of shadows, the Dark Lord felt his heart suddenly burn with an old, familiar pull—a binding magic he thought had died three days ago when his bride's heart stopped beating.
His silver eyes snapped open in the darkness.
And he smiled.