Semua Bab Her Enemy, His Curse: Bab 1 - Bab 10

The market was alive today—louder, busier, and more dangerous than usual. This meant it was perfect for stealing anything, but I had no choice.I clutched my pained stomach, hunger gnawing at my ribs like a ravenous beast.I kept my head low beneath my tattered cloak, slipping between crowds like smoke. The noble witches swanned about in silk gowns and velvet cloaks, their laughter like the chiming of bells while they traded trinkets and potions I could only dream of touching.I tried not to let my gaze linger on the fresh breads stacked neatly on the vendor’s cart. My stomach growled anyway. I couldn’t remember the last time I ate something that hadn’t been tossed into the gutter first.One loaf. That’s all I needed—just one.The merchant was busy arguing with some woman over the price of enchanted thyme. His coin purse jingled as he waved his fat hands around, drawing all the attention to himself and away from his cart.Now.I slipped forward, fingers brushing against the warm loaf

They called it an academy, but it looked more like a prison.The Warborn Academy rose from the cliffside like a jagged fang, all black stone and iron spires. The wind howled through its ramparts like it, too, had been trained to scream. Mist clung to the ground as we crossed the threshold, swirling around our boots like ghost fingers. This was no school—it was a place built to break people.I paused at the gates, my stomach twisting. Everything about this place reeked of power and punishment. Gargoyles leered down from the parapets. The sigils carved above the main doors pulsed faintly with magic—wards to keep things in, not out.A guard shoved me forward. “Keep moving, witch.”I stumbled but didn’t fall. I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.Inside, the academy was colder. The halls were carved from obsidian-black stone, the kind that swallowed both sound and light. Even the torches burned low and blue, casting flickering shadows against the vaulting ceilings. I could feel the encha

Combat drills began before the sun even kissed the horizon.We were marched out into the frostbitten courtyard while the torches were still guttering against the wind. A ring of iron runes had been carved into the earth overnight. Blood still lingered in the dirt from the last group that trained here.Today’s trial was magical endurance—paired combat, weapons optional. No deaths allowed. Everything else? Fair game.Lucian and I stood across from one another in the center circle, watched by nearly half the academy.“You look nervous,” he said, voice low.I rolled my shoulders, forcing my body to relax as my pulse raced. “No, just hoping this doesn’t take long. I have better things to do than mop the floor with you.”“Careful.” A glint of something sharp passed through his eyes. “You might trigger your own funeral.”The instructors barked the signal.We moved.Lucian came at me like a shadow loosed from bone—quick, quiet, and purposeful. I barely dodged his first strike. His blade humme

The library in the East Wing smelled like dust, candle wax, and secrets.I slipped in just past curfew, a flame flickering in my palm to light the darkened stacks. Magic wasn’t allowed after hours, but rules had never mattered much to me, especially not when my life was literally tethered to someone else’s. Someone I could barely stand.Lucian hadn’t spoken to me since the last combat drill. Not really. Just a few clipped commands, eye rolls, and that one gritted “you missed your target again” when I scorched a training dummy’s cloak instead of its chest.He hated this bond.He hated me.But I hated feeling helpless even more.Somewhere in the forbidden texts—those kept behind the blacklocked shelves, chained and sealed with spells older than kingdoms—there had to be something. A loophole. A ritual. A cursebreaker with teeth.I crouched by a cracked volume of bloodbinding runes, flipping through brittle pages. Most were useless. Some were horrifying. A few looked promising. The kind o

The forest outside Warborn Academy was ancient. Wild. Angry.We were sent there under the guise of “practical training.” In reality, it was punishment wrapped in bark and blood.“Survival conditions,” Commander Kael had announced that morning, voice flat as iron. “Two nights. Pairs only. No aid. No magic beacons.”Lucian and I had barely looked at each other. Neither of us liked the idea of being dropped into a cursed thicket where half the plant life wanted to eat us and the other half whispered your name when you weren’t listening.But we weren’t given a choice.They dropped us at dusk, in cold air. No map. Two packs and a faint glowing rune scrawled across Lucian’s palm that would guide us back—if we survived long enough to use it.The first day was quiet. Too quiet.Lucian took the lead, blade drawn. I stayed behind, trying not to trip over gnarled roots or let my magic slip too close to the surface. The tether between us stayed taut, whispering with phantom pain whenever I stumbl