That night, Blackwood Tower was unusually quiet. The storm had finally passed, leaving the city washed clean but eerily still. Ariella sat by the floor-to-ceiling window of Damian's private office, the city lights glittering like distant stars beneath the dark sky.
Her mind replayed the events of the day — the mysterious accidents, the shadowy figures, the silver dagger glowing faintly beside her on the desk. The line between reality and nightmare was growing thinner with every passing hour.
Damian entered silently, his expression unreadable but tense. He moved to stand beside her, looking out over the city they both were tied to in ways neither could fully understand.
"There's something I haven't told you," he said quietly.
Ariella turned to him, heart pounding.
"The curse," Damian continued, "it leaves marks. Physical signs on the skin — symbols no one else can see, except those who carry the bloodline."
He rolled up his sleeve, revealing a faint, intricate tattoo curling around his wrist. It pulsed with a dim light, like a heartbeat beneath the skin.
"You have to check yourself," Damian said, his voice low but firm. "If the curse is waking, it will try to claim you too."
Ariella hesitated, then lifted her sleeve. At first, she saw nothing — then, slowly, a soft glow began to emerge from a delicate symbol just above her wrist, shaped like an ancient rune she had seen in Damian's journal.
Her breath caught.
"I'm marked," she whispered.
Damian reached out and took her hand gently. "It's the first step. The curse has recognized you."
Fear and resolve warred within her. What did it mean? Could love survive something so dark and ancient?
Before she could answer, a sudden knock at the door shattered the fragile calm.
Lydia entered, urgency written across her face. "Sir, there's been another incident — this time at the hospital. One of the injured workers is missing, and witnesses claim they saw a shadowy figure follow her."
Damian's eyes hardened. "It's escalating."
He turned to Ariella, voice resolute. "We need to prepare. The curse won't stop until it takes what it wants."
Ariella nodded, feeling the weight of destiny settle heavy on her shoulders.
In the battle between light and darkness, the heart was the most dangerous weapon—and the one thing the curse could never truly control.
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