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I Buried you in 1612- The Surveyors Curse

I Buried you in 1612- The Surveyors Curse

Romance
last updateHuling Na-update : 2026-02-04
By:  Elara Vance Ongoing
Language: English
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Synopsis

Dark Romance

Drama

Steamy

Goodgirl

Dominant

Immortal Hero

Love at First Sight

Second Chance

In 1612, he couldn’t save her. In 2026, he might not want to. Elias Thorne was a man of maps and measurements, the King’s most trusted surveyor, until the smoke of the Lancashire witch trials choked the life out of everything he loved. Catherine wasn’t a witch—she was just an innocent woman caught in the gears of a superstitious world. When Elias was turned into something monstrous that same year, he didn't see it as a curse; he saw it as a deadline. He had forever to find a way to bring her back. For four centuries, Elias moved through the shadows of history, building an empire of wealth and dark influence. He hunted every myth, funded every occult discovery, and bled for every lead—all to find a soul that refused to return. He grew bitter, his heart hardening into the very stone of the London streets he walked. He eventually gave up on the heavens and the hells, settling into a life of cold, immortal apathy. Then, on a Tuesday afternoon, he sees her. She’s standing in line for coffee, wearing headphones and a denim jacket, looking exactly like the woman he watched die under a grey Jacobean sky. She has no memory of the fire, the maps, or the man who has spent four hundred years hating the world for her sake. Now, Elias faces a choice: Walk away and let her live the peaceful life he once prayed for, or reclaim a love that doesn’t belong to him anymore. But Catherine has secrets of her own—and in the modern world, the ghosts of 1612 are finally starting to catch up.

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16 Kabanata
Chapter 1 : The Longitude of Loss
London smelled different in 2026. For three centuries, it smelled of diesel and desperation. Now, it just smelled of ozone and overpriced roasted beans.. Elias Thorne stood in the corner of the grind, a coffee shop tucked into the shadow of the shard, and hated every second of it. He hated the fluorescent harm of the refrigerator display. He hated the way the barista - a boy with a tattoo of a barcode - mispronounced “ espresso “ . But mostly, he hated the noise. To a man who had once measured silence in the vast, empty Moores of Lancashire , modern London was a scream that never ended. He adjusted the cuffs of his shirt, the soak gliding over his skin that hadn’t felt the true bite of cold since king James sat on the throne. He checked his watch, a Patek Philippe that cost more than the entire village he’d been born in. 2:14 PM He had a meeting with a property developer in twenty minutes. Another skyscraper, Another scar on the skyline. Elias didn’t care about the buildi
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Chapter 2 : The weight of Concrete
The London rain didn’t feel like a cleansing spray; it felt like a cold, wet shroud . Cat Watson pulled the collar of her oversized denim jacket tighter around her neck, her thumb tracing the jacket edge of a hole in the pocket. It was 3:30 PM. The caffeine rush from the latte she just splurged on was already losing the war against the bone-deep exhaustion of working three double shifts in a row. The bell of the coffee shop chimed behind her , but she didn’t look back . She couldn’t . Ever since she’d walk into that shop, she felt a prick at the base of her skull. A heavy, magnetic pressure, like someone was pressing a hot thumb against her spine. For a fleeting second, her eyes had snagged on a man by the counter - a man who looks like he stepped out of a high fashion funeral. He was beautiful in a way that made her stomach turnover, but his eyes…. They had looked at her as if he were watching her drown and wasn’t sure if he should reach for a rope or a stone. Probably just an
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Chapter 3 : The Architect of Ruin
The air in the flat was thick with a sense of fear. To Elias , perched on the cold iron railing of the fire escape, it was a physical weight - a bitter, metallic tang that made the hunger in his gut claw at his ribs.Inside, Marcus was screaming. Not in pain, but in that jagged pathetic way men do when they feel their control slipping.“ Look at me when I’m talking to you!” Marcus roared . He grabbed cat by the upper arm, his fingers digging into the soft flesh.Elias flinched. The sound of her sharp intake of breath with a thunder clap in his ears. In 1612, he had been a man of logic, a man who measured the world with brass in ink. Now, he was a creature of impulse in shadow. He wanted to shadow the glass. He wanted to reach through the wall and pull Marcus’s spine out through his chest.But he waited. He had learned the hard way that I direct strike often broke the prize.“ Marcus, stop, “ Cat gasped, her voice trembling. “ You’re hurti
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Chapter 4 : The Surveyors Grid
Cat didn’t use the car.She couldn’t. Every instinct in her body screamed that Elias Thorne was a predator of a different species than Marcus. Marcus was a shark you could see coming by the fin in the water; Elias was the deep, cold trench that simply swallowed you whole.She spent the night pushed against her front door, a kitchen chair wedged under the handle, clutching a bread knife until her knuckles turned white. But when the sun crawled over the jagged London skyline, nothing had moved. No monsters had come through the window.By 8:00 AM, she had to move. Poverty was a more immediate threat than a mysterious billionaire. She had a shift at the dive bar near the docks, a place that smelled of stale beer and regret, and she couldn't afford to lose the tips.But when she stepped out of her building, the world had... shifted.The trash that usually choked the gutter was gone. The graffiti on the entryway—crude words Marcus had spray-painted weeks ago—had been scrubbed so clean the s
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Chapter 5: The Geography of Desire
The interior of the SUV was a sensory deprivation chamber of black leather and silence. The city outside moved past the tinted windows like a silent film, a blur of neon and rain that felt increasingly irrelevant.Cat sat as far from Elias as the bench seat allowed, her knees pulled together, her heart thumping a frantic rhythm against her ribs. Elias sat perfectly still, his hands resting on his thighs. He didn't look like a man who had just dismantled her life; he looked like a king waiting for his kingdom to recognize him."Where are we going?" Cat asked, her voice sounding small in the plush cabin."Home," Elias said. "Or as close to it as this century allows.""Your home. Not mine."Elias turned his head slowly. The light of a passing streetlamp caught his hazel eyes, turning them the color of aged whiskey. "Your 'home' was a box of mold and broken locks where a coward came to bruise you. I have struck it from the map, Catherine. It no longer exists.""Stop calling me that," she
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Chapter 6: The Ghost in the Mirror
The SUV crunched to a halt on the gravel drive of Thorne Manor. The estate was a sprawling gothic monolith of black stone and narrow, watchful windows, tucked away behind a forest that felt far older than the surrounding London suburbs.Elias didn't wait for the driver. He opened the door, his hand instantly finding the small of Cat’s back, guiding her with a possessive firmness that made her skin hum. Inside, the manor was a tomb of silent luxury—vaulted ceilings, marble floors that reflected the flicker of candlelight, and walls lined with maps that looked like they were drawn in dried blood."Upstairs," Elias murmured. "I have spent years preparing this for you."He led her to a heavy oak door at the end of the north wing. When he pushed it open, the modern world died.Cat stepped inside and stopped. The breath left her lungs in a sharp, painful hiss. There was no electric light here. Instead, beeswax candles flickered in wrought-iron sconces. The bed was a massive four-poster with
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Chapter 7: The Geometric Fever
The morning didn't bring sunlight; it brought a cold, oppressive fog that clung to the windows of the manor like a damp cloth. Cat woke tangled in the heavy plum velvet of the bed, her body aching with a delicious, heavy soreness that served as a visceral reminder of the night before.Elias was gone from the bed, but his presence lingered in the air like the scent of an approaching storm.Cat sat up, pushing her hair back, and that’s when she saw it. The small, silver compass brand on her forearm wasn't just a mark anymore. It was pulsing. A faint, rhythmic blue light throbbed beneath her skin, timed perfectly to the beating of her heart."What did you do to me?" she whispered, her voice rasping."I awakened the ley lines in your blood," Elias’s voice came from the shadows by the window.He was dressed in a crisp black shirt, his sleeves rolled up to reveal muscular forearms. He looked revitalized, his hazel eyes sharper, his movements more fluid. But his face was a mask of grim calcu
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Chapter 8 : The Price of The Pulse
The manor fell into a heavy, ringing silence. The dust of pulverized marble hung in the air like a veil. Down in the foyer, the bodies of the Syndicate soldiers were twisted heaps of tactical gear and broken bone, but Cat couldn’t look at them. Her vision was swimming, the golden grid of the ley lines still burned into her retinas, refusing to fade.She felt hollow. It wasn’t just exhaustion; it was an ache in her very cells, a void where the earth’s energy had just roared through her. It felt like hunger, but food wouldn't touch it.Elias was at the foot of the ruined stairs, his chest heaving. The silver-wire burns were deep, black welts that hissed against his pale skin, refusing to knit shut. Silver was the one thing his immortality couldn't easily dismiss; it was a poison that stalled the very air in his lungs."Catherine," he rasped, his voice cracking."I... I did that," she whispered, staring at her hands. Her fingernails were blackened at the tips, as if she’d reached into a
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Chapter 9 : The Cartography of Betrayal
The air in the study, once thick with the heat of their communion, turned to ice. Cat sat on the rug, her lips still stained with the copper tang of Elias’s blood, holding the charred parchment as if it were a live coal.“For the King’s favor, I give him the witch.”The words were written in the same elegant, precise hand that had filled her "new" bedroom with maps. The same hand that was currently resting on the floor, fingers twitching as Elias’s silver burns began to knit shut with a sickening, wet sound."Cat," Elias said, his voice a low, warning vibration. "Put it down.""Did you write this?" She looked up at him, her hazel eyes flicking with a dangerous, golden light. The blood she had taken from him was doing more than healing her; it was accelerating the change. Her canine teeth felt sharp, pushing against her gums, and her senses were suddenly so acute she could hear the movement of the dust motes in the air."Context matters," Elias growled, standing up. He loomed over her,
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Chapter 10: The Serpent in the Grid
The London fog embraced Cat like a living thing, cool and damp against her new, hypersensitive skin. She ran through the ancient forest that surrounded Thorne Manor, her feet barely disturbing the leaf litter, her body a blur of motion unseen by mortal eyes. Elias’s blood thrummed in her veins, mingling with the raw power of the ley lines she had siphoned, transforming her with every pounding beat of her new, almost-silent heart.Her human heart. It had stopped. In its place, a magnetic hum resonated in her chest, pulling her toward the deep, arterial currents of the city. Her vision, now permanently fixed in the "Surveyor’s Sight," saw London not as concrete and steel, but as a vast, glowing grid of power lines, energy conduits, and pulsing life forces.And within that grid, she saw the Syndicate. Black voids, like clots in the city's veins, gathered in dark pockets.She needed answers. The journal entry Vane had sent—real or forged—had planted a poisonous seed of doubt. He watches m
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