"Third Point of view ''
The blast ripped the throne room apart.
Sebastian hit the ground hard, his ears ringing, lungs burning with smoke and ancient magic. Marble cracked beneath him, the Black Sigil now a gaping wound in the center of the chamber, pulsing like a heart freshly torn from a beast.
Mira's body lay crumpled beside it, the dagger still buried in her chest.
Dead.
Again.
But this time… she had finished the spell.
"Lyra!" Sebastian coughed, blinking through the smoke.
No response.
He dragged himself forward, blood smearing the floor beneath him. His vision blurred, but he could see her—Lyra sprawled against a pillar, unmoving. Serena knelt over her, her face pale, hands trembling.
"She's breathing," Serena said, voice tight. "But barely."
Sebastian reached them and collapsed to his knees, brushing hair from Lyra's bruised face. "She'll live," he said hoarsely. "She has to."
Serena wasn't looking at him.
She was staring at the Black Sigil.
Sebastian turned.
The sigil was glowing now—slow, steady pulses of red light. Something had awakened.
And it was watching them.
He felt it—a cold presence inside him, slithering up his spine, curling into his thoughts like smoke into fire. The curse had changed.
It was no longer dormant.
It was alive.
"You feel it too, don't you?" Serena whispered. "Something came through that gate. Something older than the gods."
Sebastian staggered to his feet. "Get Lyra to the east wing. Find the priestess. Use the healing basin."
Serena looked hesitant. "And you?"
"I'll hold it back." He stared down at the sigil. "Whatever she released, it wants me. I'll give it a reason to fear me."
She grabbed his arm. "Don't be a fool. You're cursed, not invincible."
He smirked. "A cursed king's still a king."
She hesitated, then nodded, lifting Lyra onto her shoulder with surprising ease. "Don't die."
"Not until I take the whole damn curse with me."
And she was gone.
Sebastian turned back to the sigil. The pulsing had slowed, but now whispers filled the room—soft, seductive voices in ancient tongues. His nose bled. His heartbeat was no longer his own.
Then a voice spoke.
Deep. Male. Smooth as silk and soaked in malice.
"Sebastian."
He clenched his jaw. "Show yourself."
The shadows lengthened. The air thickened. And from the center of the sigil rose a figure—tall, draped in black, with horns curling from a crownless head and eyes like polished obsidian.
A demon.
No—something worse.
"You opened the door," it said, smiling. "Now I am here. And you, king of Erosia, are mine."
Sebastian drew his sword. "You came to the wrong palace."
The demon laughed, amused. "Still clinging to pride, even as your kingdom burns. Delicious."
It stepped forward—and with it, the curse inside Sebastian surged.
He dropped to one knee, gasping, as his veins lit with fire. His mark—normally hidden beneath his collarbone—glowed violently, burning through his shirt.
The demon's smile widened. "Yes. I see it now. The curse Mira gave you… it wasn't a punishment. It was a vessel."
"A vessel for what?" Sebastian growled.
"For me," it said simply. "She was my priestess. Her death freed me. And now I live inside you."
Sebastian tried to stand, but his limbs locked. The curse gripped him like chains.
The demon knelt, face inches from his.
"Every woman you take… every moan, every kiss, every climax… it feeds me," he whispered. "You built a harem to survive, not knowing you were preparing my altar."
Sebastian's breath hitched.
"Soon," the demon continued, "you'll crave them—not for love, but for hunger. You'll seduce, devour, ruin. And they will love you for it."
"I'll kill you," Sebastian snarled, voice raw.
"You'll try," it said with dark amusement. "But even now, one of them is already dreaming of you. You'll feel her tonight. And when you take her, you'll take another piece of yourself."
The demon began to vanish, fading into mist.
"But don't worry, Sebastian. You'll be a god among mortals. Just… not you anymore."
And then he was gone.
The room went still.
The Black Sigil pulsed once—and then lay dormant.
Sebastian dropped to the floor, panting.
But his mark still burned.
The curse was now sentient.
And worse… it wanted pleasure to feed its power.
---
East Wing – Hours Later
Lyra slept, pale and still. Serena paced like a caged animal.
Sebastian stood at the window, gripping the stone.
He could feel it already.
A pull.
A hunger.
His body was healing faster than it should. His senses sharper. His blood hotter. He could hear every breath Serena took. Smell her desire—faint, buried, but real.
He clenched his fists.
If he touched her now…
Would it be him?
Or the demon?
The door creaked.
He turned.
A woman stood there, one hand on the frame, her robes soaked with rain. Long black hair clung to her skin, and her silver eyes glowed faintly in the candlelight.
She was unfamiliar.
And breathtaking.
"Forgive my intrusion," she said, bowing low. "I'm Lady Ravyn. High Priestess of the Temple of Binding. I came when I felt the sigil awaken."
Serena stepped forward, blades in hand. "How do we know you're not part of this?"
Ravyn smiled. "Because if I were, you'd already be dead."
Sebastian raised an eyebrow. "And what do you want?"
"I want to help you," she said simply. "Because if we don't contain the curse, you'll lose control within the week."
He stepped closer. "And how do you propose we do that?"
Ravyn's lips curved. "With me, of course. You'll need someone to anchor the hunger. To take the brunt of your… needs."
Serena scowled. "You mean sleep with him?"
Ravyn didn't blink. "Repeatedly."
Sebastian laughed bitterly. "You think I'd trust a stranger with that?"
She stepped forward, her fingers brushing his arm.
His curse reacted instantly.
The hunger snapped.
His knees buckled.
And her eyes gleamed. "Not a stranger. A vessel."
She leaned in and whispered against his ear.
"If you don't claim me tonight, Sebastian… the curse will claim Serena instead."
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