Chapter 4: The Curse Reveals Its Teeth

Arc I – The Possession Begins

Chapter 4: The Curse Reveals Its Teeth

Thunder rolled like the sky was arguing with itself.

The storm had arrived without warning—rain lashing the windows, the wind shrieking like a banshee in a bad mood. Mira sat cross-legged on the bed, staring at the frost lilies Adrian had given her.

The petals glowed faintly in the candlelight, stubbornly perfect despite the gloom.

She poked one. “You’re mocking me, aren’t you? Pretty, fragile, impossible to maintain… you and I have a lot in common.”

Talking to flowers now, Adrian’s voice murmured faintly in her head.

She nearly fell off the bed. “Stop doing that!”

You were thinking loudly.

“I wasn’t!”

You were arguing with a plant.

“Okay, first of all—rude.”

The door burst open before she could retort further. Adrian himself stood there, soaked from the rain, hair plastered to his face, expression dark as the thunder outside.

“Why are you wet?” Mira blurted before realizing how that sounded.

He arched an eyebrow. “Because it’s raining.”

“Right. Obvious. Totally reasonable question.”

“I was checking the north courtyard,” he said, stepping in. “Lightning struck near the old chapel. The servants are panicking.”

Mira frowned. “Old chapel?”

“Yes. It hasn’t been used since…” He hesitated. “…Since my mother’s funeral.”

Something in his voice cracked, so subtle she almost missed it.

Don’t feel sorry for him, she told herself. Do not fall into the brooding tragic backstory trap—

“Too late,” Adrian muttered, glancing at her.

She threw her pillow at him. “Stop reading my mind!”

“I’d love to,” he said dryly, “but you won’t stop broadcasting.”

---

Later, when the storm raged even harder, Adrian returned to the room carrying two cups of tea.

She blinked. “You made tea?”

He shrugged. “The servants are busy boarding windows. I thought you might want something warm.”

“Oh no,” she said dramatically, taking the cup. “You’re being thoughtful. That’s dangerous.”

He chuckled—an actual, real chuckle. “Dangerous?”

“Every time you do something nice, my curse meter fills up.”

He sipped his tea, amused. “You have a curse meter?”

“Yes. It tracks how close I am to catastrophic emotional compromise.”

“By compromise, you mean affection.”

“By compromise, I mean doom.”

He laughed softly, shaking his head. “You are the strangest woman I’ve ever met.”

You like it though, her mind whispered before she could stop it.

“I do,” he said simply.

Mira nearly dropped her tea. “You weren’t supposed to say that out loud!”

“You weren’t supposed to think it,” he countered.

Her cheeks burned. She buried her face in the cup. “We need rules. New rules. Rule one: No listening.”

“That’s not something I can control.”

“Rule two: No honesty before sunset.”

“That one seems impossible.”

“Rule three: Stop smiling at me like that.”

“What smile?”

“The smug one. The ‘I can hear your thoughts and it entertains me’ smile!”

He grinned wider. “Ah, that one.”

---

Hours later, after the tea and the storm refused to end, Mira found herself pacing. “You said lightning hit the old chapel, right? Maybe it’s connected to… this.” She gestured between them. “Our curse.”

Adrian frowned. “You think the chapel has something to do with it?”

“Well, everything mystical in stories happens in an abandoned building during bad weather. It’s like a universal rule.”

He gave her a long look. “You’ve read too many novels.”

“Incorrect. I’ve read the correct number of novels.”

“Which is?”

“All of them.”

He sighed, but she saw the faint curve of his lips. “Fine. Let’s investigate.”

---

The chapel was exactly what she expected—dusty, eerie, and full of atmosphere.

Cracked stained glass glowed faintly under flashes of lightning.

At the altar stood an old mirror—tall, ornate, eerily familiar.

Mira froze. “That’s… the same mirror from my room.”

Adrian frowned. “Impossible. It’s been here since my mother’s death. My father sealed this place afterward.”

Mira stepped closer, goosebumps prickling her skin. “Then how do I see my reflection move in this one too?”

Adrian looked at her sharply. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” she whispered, “that the real Seraphina is inside that mirror.”

Lightning cracked. For a heartbeat, her reflection smiled back at her independently.

Adrian staggered back, hand instinctively on his sword. “What—”

“Don’t!” Mira grabbed his arm. “She’s not evil—just… complicated.”

The reflection shimmered. Seraphina’s voice echoed faintly, fragmented by static:

“Adrian Vale… your promise binds you still.”

Adrian went pale. “That voice… it can’t be.”

“You hear her too?” Mira whispered.

“Yes,” he said, voice rough. “I heard that voice the night my mother died.”

The air thickened, humming with unseen energy.

Seraphina’s image flickered again. “The curse you bear is born of guilt and love unspoken. Break it, and both souls may live. Fail, and both shall fade.”

Then—silence. The mirror darkened again.

Adrian dropped to one knee, visibly shaken. “This curse… it’s tied to me?”

Mira hesitated. “What happened that night, Adrian?”

He closed his eyes. “My mother was accused of witchcraft. My father condemned her. She tried to save me from the same fate… and her final spell bound something within our bloodline. I thought it died with her.”

Mira’s mind raced. “So this isn’t just about me possessing Seraphina—it’s a family curse triggered by emotional bonds?”

“Apparently.”

“Which means—”

He looked at her. “We can’t fall in love.”

They both went still. The words hung between them like a blade.

Then thunder cracked, rattling the windows. Mira flinched. Adrian stepped closer instinctively—too close. The air between them thrummed, their connection flaring bright.

Her thoughts slipped out in a whisper: You’re too close.

“I know,” he murmured. “But I can’t seem to stop.”

“Don’t,” she said weakly. “If this curse reacts to emotion, we’ll make it worse.”

His voice softened. “Maybe we can find another way to break it.”

Or maybe we’ll break each other first, her mind whispered.

He smiled faintly. “Always so dramatic.”

“Shut up.”

---

They left the chapel before dawn, rain still whispering against the stones.

Neither spoke much on the walk back, but the silence between them felt charged, not empty.

When they reached her chamber door, Adrian hesitated. “You should rest.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re trembling.”

She looked down. Her hands were indeed shaking. “It’s just adrenaline.”

He caught one gently in his. “You shouldn’t face things like this alone.”

Her heart hammered. “I’m not exactly alone, am I?”

His thumb brushed her knuckles. “No,” he said quietly. “You’re not.”

The connection pulsed like a living heartbeat. Her thoughts tangled—fear, longing, confusion—until one slipped through before she could stop it:

Please don’t let me vanish.

He inhaled sharply. “I won’t.”

She met his gaze. “Promise?”

“I swear it.”

And for the briefest second, the cursed bond didn’t feel like a prison at all. It felt like hope—fragile, forbidden, but real.

Then the mirror in the hallway shattered on its own.

---

That night, as Mira drifted half-asleep, Seraphina’s voice whispered from the shards scattered across the floor:

“He swore before. And I vanished anyway.”

Mira jolted awake. “What?”

But the shards only reflected her wide eyes—and lightning flickering across the sky.

---

End of Chapter 4

Next: Chapter 5 – “The Echo of the Promise”

Where Adrian’s past resurfaces, the curse’s reach expands, and Mira discovers the terrifying cost of breaking it.