Lysandra's breath was steady, despite the cold steel pressing against her throat. Her dagger was still in her grip, but she knew that if she moved an inch, the masked warrior would strike first.
His voice.
Smooth as shadow, laced with quiet authority. It sent a chill down her spine—not from fear, but from the realization of who he was.
Prince Kastian.
There was no mistaking it now. The emblem on his mask, the way he moved, the way he knew her name.
He had been waiting for her.
But why?
The Test of Blades
Lysandra wasn't one to submit. If he thought she would kneel like a prisoner, he was sorely mistaken.
With a flick of her wrist, she twisted out of his hold, shadows exploding from her form like ink in water. Kastian leapt back, his movements precise and deliberate, as if he had expected her to resist.
They circled each other, the air between them charged with something unreadable.
Then—he lowered his sword.
Lysandra hesitated. "What game are you playing, Your Highness?"
The prince tilted his head. "A necessary one."
His voice was calm, unreadable, but Lysandra could sense the weight behind his words. He wasn't here to kill her. He wanted something else.
The Cursed Bargain
Kastian took a step closer, his gaze unwavering beneath the mask. "You and I carry the same affliction, Lysandra."
Her fingers twitched.
"You don't know what you're talking about," she said coldly.
Kastian let out a quiet chuckle. "Don't I?"
Then, without another word, he removed his mask.
Lysandra's breath caught as the moonlight illuminated his face.
He was young—only a few years older than her—but his sharp features bore the weight of someone who had lived through a thousand battles. His dark hair fell over striking eyes that shimmered with something inhuman.
And then she saw it.
The mark.
Black tendrils of a curse crawled up his neck, pulsing with an eerie glow.
Lysandra's heart pounded. It was the same as hers.
The same darkness.
The same fate.
Kastian met her gaze, his expression unreadable.
"You've spent your whole life running from the curse," he said softly. "But what if I told you that running is pointless?"
Lysandra clenched her jaw. "And you have a better solution?"
His lips curled into something almost like a smirk.
"I do."
A pause.
"Join me."
Lysandra exhaled sharply. "Why would I ever do that?"
Kastian's expression darkened.
"Because if you don't… the forgotten god will claim us both."
The Moment of Choice
Silence stretched between them.
The forgotten god. The entity tied to their curse.
Lysandra had spent years trying to escape her fate, but Kastian spoke as if it were already sealed.
Her instincts screamed at her to refuse. To fight. To flee.
But for the first time, she hesitated.
Because deep down, in the quiet part of her soul, she knew…
He was right.