The storm outside had calmed, but inside the ancient manor, Liora's pulse was anything but steady.
She stood by the window, arms wrapped around herself, watching the shadows of rain slide down the glass like melting secrets. Killian was behind her—silent, still, a force of dark magnetism. She could feel him without looking, as if his very presence reshaped the air around her.
"Are you scared of me now?" he asked, his voice low and rough like crushed velvet.
Liora turned slowly, her gaze locking with his. "No. Not scared. Just… overwhelmed. Everything I thought I knew about myself, about you—it's like the world flipped."
Killian took a step closer. Then another. Until he was close enough that the scent of cedarwood and smoke wrapped around her like a spell. "I told you I was cursed. That my touch could burn. That it would change everything."
"Then why doesn't it hurt?" she whispered. "Why does it feel like fire and safety at the same time?"
His breath hitched. The wall he wore like armor cracked. And in that moment, he looked vulnerable… human.
"Because you're the only one who can touch me without pain," he said. "You're the reason the curse stirs… and calms."
Liora's heart fluttered wildly. "Then what am I, Killian? A cursebreaker? A trigger? Or something else?"
He raised his hand slowly—so slowly it was agonizing—and cupped her cheek. His thumb brushed her skin, and a shimmer of golden light glowed between them. Warmth pulsed from his touch, but it didn't scorch. It comforted. It awakened something inside her.
"You're the match," he murmured. "And the flame."
Then he kissed her.
Not soft. Not sweet.
Fierce.
Hungry.
His mouth claimed hers like he'd waited lifetimes, like she was the salvation he didn't believe he deserved. And Liora—goddess help her—kissed him back just as desperately.
Her fingers tangled in his thick hair, pulling him closer, and he growled low in his throat. He gripped her waist, lifting her effortlessly and pinning her against the cold stone wall. The contrast of his burning touch and the icy backdrop sent goosebumps down her skin.
"I shouldn't want you like this," Killian rasped against her lips. "But I do. More than I've ever wanted anything."
"Then stop holding back," she breathed.
With a groan, he leaned into her, their bodies pressed together, and magic sparked like lightning between their skins. Every kiss, every brush of his hands, sent flickers of light dancing along her arms.
His shirt was discarded—somehow, she didn't remember when—and her hands explored the hard planes of his chest, the lines of glowing runes that carved into his skin like starlight. She traced one just above his heart.
"It's beautiful," she whispered.
"No," he said. "It's dangerous."
"Then let me be the danger."
Killian stilled. His dark eyes bored into hers. "Do you know what you're saying?"
She nodded, breathless. "I'm not running. I'm not afraid. I want to see who you are—curse and all."
He pulled her close again, this time slower. A kiss to her jaw. Her neck. Her collarbone. He moved like a man who'd never known softness but now clung to it with reverence.
"Liora…" he murmured her name like a vow. "If we go any further, there's no going back."
"Then take me forward," she said. "Show me the truth."
Their lips met again—slower, deeper.
The candles in the room flared, casting golden shadows over the stone walls. Magic weaved around them, ancient and uncontainable. Her back arched into his touch as his hands explored every inch of her with a need that bordered on worship.
And then—
Bang!
The doors flew open, crashing against the walls with unnatural force.
Killian spun, his body shielding hers instantly. Shadows spilled into the room like smoke, curling and writhing. A figure stepped out of the darkness—a woman dressed in blood-red robes, her eyes glowing violet.
"Well, well," the woman purred. "The cursed prince finally found someone willing to burn with him."
"Lilith," Killian growled. His voice held venom and fear.
Liora, still catching her breath, stared at the woman. Power radiated from her like poisoned honey.
"Who—" she began, but Lilith cut her off.
"You don't belong here, little light. You're playing in a war that started centuries before you were born."
"I belong wherever I choose," Liora snapped, surprising even herself.
Lilith's smile widened, cruel and cold. "Brave. How adorable. But Killian… you know what happens when a cursebreaker bonds with the cursed. You think you've outrun fate, but you've only brought it to your doorstep."
"Leave her out of this," Killian warned.
"Too late." Lilith raised her hand, and the shadows lashed forward like serpents.
Killian pushed Liora behind him, summoning a wall of fire that met the darkness head-on. The manor trembled from the force of their clash. Liora's eyes widened as the runes on Killian's skin blazed like the sun.
"You want a war?" he said, voice dark and deadly. "You'll get one."
But Lilith only laughed, a sound that chilled the soul.
"Oh, Killian," she said mockingly. "This isn't the war. This is just the beginning."
With a swirl of shadows, she vanished—leaving only the echo of her threat behind.
The room fell silent.
Killian turned to Liora. His eyes weren't just glowing now—they were blazing.
"I'm sorry," he said, his voice breaking. "I tried to protect you. But loving me… might destroy you."
Liora stepped forward, her fingers finding his hand. "Then we'll burn together."