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CHAPTER 8 – The Ritual Key
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2025-06-26 21:00:47Alika's POV
The air was heavier tonight.It wasn’t just the chill anymore. The Blackwell mansion had turned sentient. I could feel it in the way the floorboards creaked without weight, the way every shadow seemed to stretch toward me like it was hungry.I clutched the old grimoire I had stolen from the study—an ancient book bound in dark leather, written in a language that almost seemed to breathe. It had taken me hours to decipher even a few pages, my fingers trembling with each turn as if the ink itself was judging me.But I had finally found something.A way to undo it.The curse.A reverse ritual. A way to sever the Bride’s Bond and escape this nightmare. My blood, willingly given. My body, willingly seated. In the Bride’s Throne. Before midnight of the third night.And tonight… was the third night.I pressed my hand against the page, rereading the phrase over and over:“She who breaks the
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The Wedding Night Curse CHAPTER 8 – The Ritual Key
Alika's POVThe air was heavier tonight.It wasn’t just the chill anymore. The Blackwell mansion had turned sentient. I could feel it in the way the floorboards creaked without weight, the way every shadow seemed to stretch toward me like it was hungry.I clutched the old grimoire I had stolen from the study—an ancient book bound in dark leather, written in a language that almost seemed to breathe. It had taken me hours to decipher even a few pages, my fingers trembling with each turn as if the ink itself was judging me.But I had finally found something.A way to undo it.The curse.A reverse ritual. A way to sever the Bride’s Bond and escape this nightmare. My blood, willingly given. My body, willingly seated. In the Bride’s Throne. Before midnight of the third night.And tonight… was the third night.I pressed my hand against the page, rereading the phrase over and over:“She who breaks the
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Ethan's POVI couldn’t sleep.The mansion had grown too quiet again—like it always did before something happened. The air was still, heavy, as though the house itself was holding its breath. Especially the west wing. That part of the estate had always held secrets I never dared to touch for too long.But tonight, it was calling to me.The brandy in my hand did little to settle the chill that clawed at my spine. The fireplace crackled behind me, its flames licking shadows across the walls of the study. I stared into it, remembering.The dreams had returned. The whispers. The reflection in the mirror that blinked when I didn’t.And now… Alika was hearing them too.She was trying so hard to pretend nothing was wrong. I could see it in the way she brushed her fingers over her collarbone when she thought I wasn’t watching—the exact place the cursed mark always appeared.She thought I didn’t notice.But I did.Because I’d seen it before. On others. On the brides who came before her.Brides
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Alika's POVSomething wasn’t right.The air felt heavier as I walked down the west corridor, each step echoing off the cold stone floor. I wasn’t supposed to be here—this part of the mansion was always locked, always avoided. But tonight, the door had been left ajar.Almost like someone was waiting for me.I hesitated in front of the half-open door. A sliver of darkness stared back at me, quiet and unmoving. My fingers hovered over the knob when I heard it.A voice.Soft. Male. Familiar."Alika..."I froze.Ethan?I turned, but no one was there. Just empty shadows and the hum of an old chandelier swaying above me. My breath caught. I knew Ethan was in the east wing tonight, handling guests from Boston. He couldn't be here.Still, I stepped inside.The room was small—dusty and untouched. Cobwebs clung to the corners, and the musty scent of old wood and forgotten things filled my lungs. In the corner sat a table, draped with a torn lace cloth. On it lay a book, thick and dark, like it h
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Alika's POVI don’t remember exactly when everything started to change.Maybe it was the first night, when the woman in the mirror looked at me as if I were her. Or perhaps it began with that strange dream—the upside-down room, the soulless bride, and a voice that told me I had to kill Ethan before the third night.But this morning... something feels truly different.The sky outside is overcast, yet the light that filters in is strange. Dim, as if held back by an invisible fog. I crack open the window, only to be met with an unnaturally cold breeze, despite it not being winter. A sharp scent of jasmine hangs in the air—too sweet, almost suffocating. And faintly... I can smell blood.Ethan left at dawn. I have no idea where he went. When I asked Mrs. Whitmore, the elderly housekeeper, she only replied in a hushed tone, “Master Ethan has family business to attend to.”Whatever that means, I know I won’t get a clearer answer.Alone in the large bedroom, I start to feel like a prisoner. E
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