I died each time we became intimate のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 1 - チャプター 10

The smell of lilies was always the first thing to return. It was the scent of my own funeral, a cloying sweetness that made me want to gag. I opened my eyes and didn't move. I didn't breathe. I just counted the cracks in the gold-leaf ceiling of the ducal bedchamber. One, two, three... I knew them all. I had memorized them while gasping my last breath in Life Four. I had stared at them while my vision went black in Life Seven. I was back. Life Ten. My final chance. I sat up, my silk nightgown sliding against my skin. It felt like a shroud. I looked at my hands—they were steady, but my soul was screaming. Every inch of my body remembered the sensation of Julian’s fingers tightening around my throat, the desperate, confused look in his eyes just before the "Darkness" took him over. He didn't know. That was the cruelest part of the curse. He killed me in the throes of passion, and then the world reset for me—but for him, it was always the first time. He was a monster who woke up ever

Chapter Three: The Mirror’s Debt The woman—the thing—that stood in the doorway was a mockery of everything I was. She wore the same ivory lace I had picked out with such hope in Life Nine. But the lace was now yellowed with the rot of the grave and stained with a dark, vertical spray of blood across the bodice. Her head hung at a sickening angle, the neck clearly snapped, swaying like a pendulum with every jerky step she took. But it was the eyes that broke me. Or rather, the lack of them. Where my eyes should have been, there were only twin pits of seething, oily smoke. "Julian..." I choked out, my knees giving way. I collapsed against the stone railing of the balcony, the cold wind howling behind me as if the sky itself were screaming. Julian didn’t hesitate. He stepped in front of me, his body a shield of muscle and silk. The silver dagger in his hand vibrated with a faint, blue light. "Get back, Elowen! Don't look at it!" "It's me," I sobbed, clutching my stomach. The sight

Chapter Five: The Exorcist’s Mercy The white light emanating from the Priest’s mace didn't feel like a blessing. It didn't feel like the warm, healing glow of a Sunday morning. It felt like a desert sun—blistering, dry, and soul-searing. It was a light designed to burn away the darkness, regardless of whether the person carrying that darkness survived the fire. I was still pinned against the cold stone of the catacombs, my body trembling in the aftermath of a passion that had turned into a death trap. The black smoke of the King of Sorrows was still curled in my lungs, tasting like soot and old blood. My heart felt like it was being squeezed by a frost-covered hand, struggling to beat against the crushing weight of the entity now occupying my husband’s skin. Shadow-Julian—the thing that wore Julian’s beautiful face like a mask—hissed at the light. His grip on my throat didn't loosen; it tightened. I could feel his black claws drawing thin, stinging lines of blood on my skin. He was

Chapter Seven: The Clinical FractureThe hospital room was too quiet. Outside, the city of 2026 was humming with traffic, but inside these white walls, time had stopped. Julian still had his hand on my throat, his thumb tracing the vein that throbbed with my terror."I should call security," he whispered, his face inches from mine. His charcoal eyes were searching my face, looking for a lie he couldn't find. "I should have you sedated and moved to the high-security wing. Patients who talk about 'past lives' and 'kings' are usually a danger to themselves. So why am I still standing here?""Because you're not just a doctor, Julian," I said, my voice steady despite the fear. "And I’m not just a patient. You feel the pull. Every time you try to leave this room, your heart aches, doesn't it? You feel like you’re running out of air."Julian flinched. He let go of my neck as if I were made of fire. He backed away, his lab coat rustling in the sterile air. "That’s biological interference. It’

Chapter Nine: The Surgeon’s HandsJulian didn't give Silas the satisfaction of a response. He didn't even look toward the door. His entire world had shrunk to the space between my body and his. He was shivering, his skin radiating a heat that felt like a fever."Julian," I whispered, my voice caught in my throat. "He’s watching.""Let him watch," Julian growled. It wasn't the voice of the man who performed heart surgeries. It was deep, rasping, and old.He didn't make a speech. He acted. Julian grabbed the hem of my hospital gown and pulled it aside, exposing the mark on my shoulder. It was no longer just a scar; it was a pulsing, violet wound that seemed to be breathing in time with him. Without a word, he took his thumb and pressed it directly into the center of the mark.A jolt of white-hot electricity slammed through my spine. I didn't scream; I couldn't. My back arched off the floor, my eyes flying open as a flood of memories that weren't mine drowned my brain. I saw a throne roo