“Pathetic. So gullible,” a warped, raspy voice sneered.
The vision shattered into a thousand shards, reforming instantly into a frog that croaked weakly. Then, in a sickening crunch, a boot crushed it without mercy.
I lifted my eyes. A man emerged from the trees, a twisted smile tearing across his face, as though his flesh struggled to contain what he had become. He reeked of corrupted magic, a metallic stench saturating the air around him. And his eyes, not only those anchored in his face, but the ones opening and closing along his throat, his arms, his clavicles. Slitted pupils, glowing yellow, writhing like a swarm of restless insects.
A Cursed sorcerer, likely fed by sucremort.
A chill climbed my spine. I staggered back, but it was too late. A black root shot from the ground, coiling around my ankle and hurling me violently to the ground. My head struck the damp earth, and pain exploded behind my eyelids. Crystallized sugar burst from my body, glittering in the dark grass.
“Tell me how to enter the manor,” he commanded. “This barrier keeps me out. How do I break it?”
“Never!” But my defiance rang hollow. The fear in my voice betrayed me.
The sorcerer knelt beside me. “So rebellious.” His voice slid into me like frost beneath the skin. He leaned closer, his foul breath brushing my ear. “My orders are clear. Zelda wants you dead. And who am I to refuse my queen’s wish?”
I choked. He wasn’t alone. In the shadows, two Cursed stretched tall, their silhouettes melding into the treetops. Their flesh was nothing but parched skin, marred with gaping scars and swollen, pulsing welts, oozing a dark liquid that dripped onto the moss with a sickening sound.
Where their faces should have been was only a black void. No eyes. No nose. No ears. Just a mouth—vast, grotesque, gaping down to the chest, filled with twisted fangs, yellowed and slick with thick saliva that dripped in long, viscous strings.
And as if the nightmare weren’t enough, they each held a leash. At the other end, smaller Cursed crawled like feral dogs, monstrous hybrids between hyena and reptile. Horror froze my spine, but I locked my gaze onto the sorcerer.
“There is only one person I would ever let kill me if I were to fail,” I whispered. “And it isn’t you.”
I wanted to live. More than anything. I prayed the Spirits had warned Arawn, and that the mist was signal enough. But for now, I had to stall.
“You think he’ll come for you?” the sorcerer sneered. He circled me slowly, tracing an invisible ring, a predator savoring his prey. “For a mere human? You think he’d choose you over Zelda? You’re nothing but a replaceable pawn.”
My heart clenched. His venomous words sank in, laced with a curse spun to break me.Believe in yourself, Lempicka. Believe in him. You are not weak, you are not alone, you are not?—
“What a lovely curse,” the sorcerer hissed, lips stretched into a reptilian grin.
His bony fingers pressed to my throat, tightening, cutting off my breath. Agonizing pain flared under my skin, spreading like wildfire. Where he touched me, dark stains bloomed, stretching into venomous filaments.
“You’ll be magnificent once the rot consumes you.”
No one would mourn me. A tear slid down my cheek. I didn’t want to die. I just wanted…to be loved.For someone to stay. My heart trembled and cracked. A fissure, sharp, cold. Maybe my death would fix everything. Arawn would live. Nyla would no longer be disappointed. If this was the price to protect those I loved, I would pay it.
But not like this.
Not at the hands of a monster.
A sharp shiver climbed my throat like a blade of frost, as if even my bones refused to yield. Then, grain by grain, thesugar in me hardened. Razor-sharp. Transparent. Crystal born beneath my skin, rising as a barrier between him and me.
“You’re wrong.” I smiled despite the burning, acidic tears streaming down my cheeks. “He will come.”
The sorcerer jerked back, his fingers twitching as if burned. His eyes narrowed.
If I was to give my heart, it would only be to one person.
A sound split the night. “Lempicka, don’t listen to him!”
A freezing gale tore through the mist, and an unyielding grip wrenched me from the void, lifting me out of the sorcerer’s reach. Arms held me tight. The familiar scent of eucalyptus and bark erased the metallic stench of corrupted magic.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered against Arawn’s chest, my fingers clutching his coat instinctively. “I thought it was her. I’m so stupid, I?—”
A gloved finger tilted my chin up. His eyes were storm-filled abysses, dark, deep, unshakable. A quiet rage still smoldered there, but it wasn’t aimed at me. He studied my face with such intensity that it froze me in place, as though to make sure I was truly here.
“It wasn’t Nyla. The sorcerer used your fears, shaping her image from Zelda’s memories.”
