Talia didn't remember agreeing to be married.
Actually, she didn't even remember signing anything, unless you counted the university cafeteria petition to bring back garlic bread Wednesdays.
Yet here she was—in a haunted, Gothic castle, in the middle of a cursed realm, wearing a coffee-stained hoodie and facing a demon prince who looked like he'd rather eat a porcupine than share air with her.
Lucien stood by the enormous double doors of the castle hallway, rubbing his temples. "You have five minutes to follow me to your chambers. Or I'll let the soul-snatching banshee in the west wing handle you."
Talia blinked. "You have what in this place?"
"Banshee. Loud. Glowy. Eats annoying things."
"Oh great. I'll fit right in."
---
🏰 Inside the Castle...
The place was as beautiful as it was terrifying.
Black marble floors reflected the flickering torchlight. Paintings on the walls moved when she wasn't looking. One of them even winked at her. Gargoyles snored on the ceiling. A floating teacup screamed when she passed by.
And then there was Edgar—the talking raven.
He perched on a chandelier and cackled, "So this is the mortal bride. I give her two days before she cries herself into a summoning circle!"
"Go choke on a broomstick," Talia muttered.
Edgar cawed, "Spicy! I like her."
Lucien glanced at her. "Don't talk to the furniture. They get attached."
Lucien opened a heavy door to reveal her chambers.
The room was absurdly large. Black velvet curtains, a bed big enough for six people, a golden vanity, and a bathroom that looked like it belonged to a royal vampire.
"I don't suppose this place has Wi-Fi?" Talia asked hopefully.
Lucien raised an eyebrow. "Wife-eye?"
"Forget it."
She stepped into the bathroom to freshen up. The tub—an antique silver clawfoot—was already filled with hot water and lavender mist.
She dipped her toe in… and the tub growled.
A face rose out of the water—a transparent, dripping old woman with glowing green eyes.
Talia screamed. So did the ghost.
"GET OUT OF MY BATHTUB!" the ghost wailed.
Talia grabbed a towel and ran back out, slipping into Lucien's arms by accident.
They both froze.
Her face pressed into his chest. His hands steadied her waist.
It was warm. Too warm for a dead guy.
"You smell like burned cinnamon," she mumbled.
"You smell like panic," he replied.
They quickly stepped apart like touching each other was illegal.
Talia glared. "Your bathtub's haunted!"
Lucien sighed. "Of course it is. Her name is Mildred. She died in there. You have to knock three times before entering."
"WHAT?! Who writes these rules?"
"This is the Shadow Realm. Everyone's dead. There's a protocol."
---
🕯️ That Night…
Talia lay in bed, eyes wide open, staring at the stone ceiling.
From somewhere far down the hall, ghostly whispers echoed. A violin played by itself. A goat screamed. (Wait, a goat?)
The door creaked. Lucien peeked in.
She sat up. "Seriously?! What now? Banshee? Vampire butler? Possessed throw pillows?"
He walked in slowly, holding a steaming cup.
"…Hot chocolate," he muttered. "It helps with the nightmares. Thought you might need it."
Talia blinked. "Wait… is this a peace offering?"
He sighed. "Consider it damage control."
She accepted the mug, their fingers brushing briefly.
For a moment, there was silence. Warm. Heavy. Strange.
"Why don't you just break the contract?" she asked quietly.
Lucien looked at her, the shadows in his eyes flickering with something sadder than she expected.
"Because I can't," he said. "And if we don't find a solution soon… we both might lose more than our freedom."
---
🥀 In the Shadows…
Far beneath the castle, something ancient stirred.
A forgotten prophecy glowed on the walls.
> "When mortal heart meets demon flame,
The cursed will burn, but love shall tame."
A dark figure stepped from the gloom. Eyes glowing crimson. Watching.
Waiting.
Talia hadn't slept.
Between the haunted bathtub, the whispering walls, and the demon prince pacing outside her room like a grumpy guard dog, her first night in the Shadow Realm felt more like surviving a horror movie than being a "bride."
At sunrise—if that was even what they called it in a land with no sun—she sat by the tall, cracked window, sipping the lukewarm hot chocolate Lucien gave her the night before.
> "This place is weird," she muttered.
"And I miss Wi-Fi. And actual air."
---
🧙♀️ Meanwhile, in the Mortal Realm…
Mira Morgan, Talia's best friend and part-time chaos witch, was frantically pacing her apartment. Crystals were scattered across her spellbook. Candles flickered in odd colors.
"She's been gone for two days!" Mira growled. "And her tracking charm says she's in… a different plane of existence?!"
Talia's mom, Mary Ravenwood, was on speakerphone. "I told her not to join that magic school. She could've worked at the coffee shop down the street!"
"Aunt Liz says it's the boyfriend," Mira lied.
"She doesn't have a boyfriend!"
"Exactly! Suspicious, right?"
Mira, worried but determined, opened an old grimoire. "Time to bring her back… or accidentally summon a demon raccoon. Again."
---
🏰 Back in the Shadow Realm…
Lucien stood outside the throne room, straightening his coat.
Inside, his older brother—the ruthless and elegant Prince Vael Nightshade—waited. Vael looked like Lucien, except colder, taller, and with the smile of someone who'd tax ghosts if he could.
Vael sneered. "So… the rumors are true. You summoned a human into our realm and got magically married to her?"
Lucien clenched his jaw. "It was an accident."
Vael leaned back on the black marble throne. "Do you know what happens when a mortal enters our world unprepared? The realm shifts. Prophecies awaken. The dead get... chatty."
"She's not the enemy."
"She's the disruption."
Just then, Edgar the talking raven burst in. "She's eating demon toast in the west hall and asking if curses are gluten-free."
Vael raised an eyebrow. "Charming."
Lucien ignored him and turned to leave. "Stay away from her."
---
💌 Messages from the Other Side
That afternoon, while trying to find a non-haunted room, Talia found an odd mirror at the end of a dusty hallway.
The surface shimmered.
Suddenly—
> "TALIA?! IF YOU CAN HEAR ME, DON'T MARRY ANYONE UNTIL I GET THERE!"
It was Mira—screaming through the mirror.
Talia's eyes widened. "Mira?! How?!"
Mira's blurry figure waved a crystal. "I hacked the veil between realms! But I only have 30 seconds! Also—your mom thinks you're in a cult!"
Talia laughed, even as tears formed in her eyes. "I miss you guys."
Mira added, "And one more thing—you're glowing. Like, literally. What the heck did you touch, Talia?"
Before Talia could answer, the mirror fizzled out.
Lucien appeared behind her, watching the sadness in her eyes.
"You miss them," he said quietly.
"I don't belong here," she whispered. "And you know it."
He looked at her for a long moment. "Maybe… but you're not the only one trapped by fate."
He turned and walked away—but not before she caught a glimpse of something strange:
> A tattoo on the back of his neck…
Glowing red…
With the same symbol as the scroll.
Later that evening, Talia found herself wandering down another forbidden corridor (because of course she did), and discovered a sealed room filled with ancient portraits.
One painting—a regal woman with crimson eyes and a soft smile—whispered as she passed.
"Child… you bear the mark of the prophecy."
Talia gasped. "Who—who are you?"
"I am Seraphina. Queen of Shadows. Mother of Lucien."
The voice trembled. "You must be careful. The curse you carry... it isn't only binding you. It's waking something ancient. Something that even my son does not remember…"
The room grew cold.
Suddenly, the candle flames flickered out.
A new voice whispered from behind her—
> "He can't protect you forever, mortal."
She turned, heart pounding—
But no one was there.
---
🔥 And in the Heart of the Castle...
Lucien stood alone in the crypt, staring at an ancient sealed door.
> "She's not ready," he said aloud.
"But she will be."
Behind the door, something pulsed.
Something alive.
Something… waiting.