Todos los capítulos de Bound by Voices: Capítulo 1 - Capítulo 10

Arc I – The Possession Begins Chapter 1: Death, Déjà Vu, and a Duke’s Displeasure The first thing Mira noticed was that she wasn’t dead properly. There were no pearly gates, no choir of angels, no looping anime opening for her reincarnation—just the faint smell of lavender, an impossibly soft mattress, and the unmistakable weight of a corset that was squeezing the life out of her after she’d already died. Her eyes snapped open to a canopy of silk and lace. “Wha—why am I in a Jane Austen fever dream?” she croaked. Her voice came out higher, softer—decidedly not hers. She sat up too quickly, groaning as the world spun. The reflection in the ornate mirror across the room showed a pale, willowy woman with hair the color of moonlight, eyes like melted sapphire, and skin so flawless it made every K-beauty influencer look like a cautionary tale. Mira blinked. The woman blinked. “Oh no. No, no, no. I’ve seen this trope before,” she muttered. “This is body possession. Reincarnation. Tr

Arc I – The Possession Begins Chapter 3: Experiments in Madness Mira had always considered herself a woman of science—at least the kind of science that involved late-night online theories, anime logic, and overanalyzing fictional relationships. Now, apparently, she was also a pioneer in the field of soul physics. Step one: establish the parameters of the curse. Step two: avoid dying again. Step three: maybe, possibly, definitely not fall in love with the Duke. Easier said than done. --- Mira crouched behind a rose bush, holding a notepad stolen from the Duke’s office. She had drawn a ridiculous chart titled "Distance vs. Emotional Contamination." A maid peeked over, concerned. “My lady… why are you hiding in the garden with measuring tape?” “Science,” Mira said solemnly. “Vital experiments. Please, carry on.” The maid bowed awkwardly and fled, muttering something about eccentric nobles. From the balcony above, Adrian’s exasperated voice drifted down. “Seraphina, why are

Arc I – The Possession Begins Chapter 5: The Echo of the Promise Dawn broke reluctantly, as though even the sun was hesitant to shine on what had happened the night before. Mira hadn’t slept much. Between the mirror’s whisper, Adrian’s touch still lingering like static on her skin, and her brain running at maximum “I might be cursed but also mildly in love” capacity, rest had been impossible. So when Adrian appeared at her door at first light, she nearly screamed. “Don’t do that!” she hissed. “I could’ve died!” He raised an eyebrow. “From what? Excessive startle?” “Yes! Death by shock. Very serious.” He held up a breakfast tray. “I brought food.” She blinked. “Wait, you made breakfast?” “Cooked, no. Carried, yes.” “Oh good. I was worried we were heading into domestic bliss territory. That would definitely break the curse.” His mouth twitched. “You’re incorrigible.” “Compliment accepted.” --- They ate in companionable awkwardness, punctuated by Mira’s occasional interna

Arc I – The Possession Begins Chapter 7: The Woman in the Glass For the first time since waking in this world, Mira was afraid of mirrors. Every reflective surface in the manor—polished vases, windows, even silver spoons—seemed to glimmer with something more than light. Sometimes, if she looked too long, she caught sight of someone else’s eyes staring back. Seraphina’s eyes. Patient. Sad. Knowing. Mira stopped brushing her hair entirely, afraid of catching a glimpse of the other woman behind her own reflection. Adrian noticed, of course—he noticed everything. At breakfast, he said, “You haven’t looked in a mirror for three days.” She poked her toast nervously. “Oh, have I? Maybe I’m just exploring a minimalist lifestyle.” “Mira.” She sighed. “Fine. I keep seeing her, okay? Every time I look at my reflection, she’s there—watching me like a ghost with great cheekbones.” He frowned. “Has she said anything?” “Not since the dream. But I can feel her. Like she’s waiting.” Adri

Arc I – The Possession Begins Chapter 9: The Echo Between Worlds When the light faded, the manor fell silent. Not the peaceful kind of silence — but the hollow, aching kind that felt like a missing heartbeat. Adrian stood in the ruined chapel, surrounded by dust and glimmering fragments of what used to be the mirror. His hands were bleeding where he’d tried to reach her, his breath uneven. “Mira,” he whispered. No answer. He sank to his knees, staring at the faint traces of light that still danced where she’d stood. He could still feel her — not her voice this time, but the echo of her laughter, the warmth of her presence lingering like static in his mind. It wasn’t silence that hurt. It was almost hearing her. Hours passed. The servants found him still there, staring at the mirror’s remains. He didn’t speak for two days. On the third day, the bond mark on his wrist flickered again — faint, like a dying ember. He lifted his hand, hope stuttering through his chest. “Mira?”