Lahat ng Kabanata ng The Wedding Night Curse: Kabanata 101 - Kabanata 110

Alika’s POVFor the first time since that night, I touched my stomach.My hands were shaking—not from the cold, but from the image still clinging to my mind. Her belly was swollen. And that smile... God. It wasn’t human. It was Sybilla’s. And it came from my face.I took a slow breath, looked down, and ran my fingers over my own skin. Nothing had changed. No bump. No life inside. But I knew—mirrors in this manor never just reflected.Sometimes they showed the future.Sometimes, they revealed truths we weren’t ready to face.From outside, a distant clock chimed once.One.Then silence.And in that silence, I heard it again—faint, fragile, but sharp as bone: the sound of a baby crying. Distant, like from the attic. The same cry that came every night… at the exact same hour.Dad used to say, if you hear a baby crying in an empty house, don’t look for where it’s coming from. But I’d

Alika’s POVI’m still standing at the edge of the lake. The air’s turned sharply cold, and the morning mist hasn’t fully lifted. The water is unnervingly still—like a pane of broken glass someone patched badly.What I saw wasn’t a dream. The glow was real. The reflection was real. That smile… it wasn’t Ethan’s. But why did it still feel so familiar?I drew a slow breath, letting the cold fill my constrained lungs. My fingers had gone numb—partly from the weather, partly from something inside me crumbling. Ever since this began, I’ve been holding onto the hope of light at the end. But what came instead was more foreign than death: living uncertainty.Back at home, my boots were soaked and heavy. The old hardwood in the entryway whispered beneath my feet. Outside, the world stirred—birds, wind, neighbors stirring—but it all felt distant. Like the world was preparing a stage for something to break.On the c

Alika’s POVShe was gone.I took one step up the stairs—but the girl with my face had already vanished.No sound. No shadow. Nothing.Just that sentence still hanging in the air like a bad aftertaste:You left me in the lake.I didn’t go after her.Didn’t run. Didn’t scream.I just stood there, heart banging against my ribs, trying to breathe.And then I noticed it.The fog was gone.Not thinner. Not receding.Gone.Like it had never existed.The house was still. Too still. I listened hard. No ticking clocks. No humming pipes. Even the creaky floorboards were silent beneath my feet.I turned slowly, expecting—something.But it was just the house again.Except it wasn’t.The hallway looked… wrong.Longer than it should’ve been. Slightly curved. The wall lamp that used to hang by the coat rack now sat closer to the kitchen door. I stared at it, blinking, trying to convince myself it had always been like that.It hadn’t.I walked back toward the living room. Everything looked the same a

Alika's POVI was still standing in front of the drawing.My hands were shaking, even though I hadn’t touched anything. The paper was blank again. No image. No ink. But I knew what I had seen. That wasn’t a hallucination.It was Mom.Not as a ghost. Not in a dream. But like... she knew I was here. Like she was watching me.I looked around the room—stone walls, cold floor, and the old table where the paper still lay. Everything was still. Too quiet. No breeze. No breath, except mine.I turned slowly, and there it was.The mirror.Still standing tall, as high as my body, frozen inside a partially broken wooden frame that somehow never fell. Thin cracks crawled across the surface like veins. I had shattered it. Twice. Maybe three times. But every time I turned back, it was whole again—standing like a guard too patient to ever give up."You're messing with the wrong girl," I muttered to myself.This time, I grabbed the rusted iron chair from the corner of the room.And hurled it at the mi

Alika’s POVI don’t know exactly when I fell asleep—or if I actually did. It felt like falling. Deep. Long. Bottomless.When I opened my eyes, I was standing in a room with no walls, no sky. Only tall mirrors surrounding me, reflecting my body from every angle. The floor was made of white stone, warm against the soles of my feet. At the center of the space, there was an altar. Dark marble. And on top of it—me.I was lying there, naked, but not afraid. I knew what was happening. I knew the pain that surged and faded like crashing waves. My body was giving birth.My breathing was uneven. Sweat dripped down my temples. But there was no blood.That wasn’t the strange part.The strange part was—I wasn’t alone. Next to the altar stood Ethan. His hair was a mess, his face pale, but his eyes... they looked at me like I was the only thing that existed.“Alika...” his voice cracked, but he didn’t move. As if something was holding him back.“I don’t know how... I don’t know how to help you,” he