The forest thins, revealing an abandoned village. Roofs have collapsed, and walls crumble, but it offers cover. Kael drops to his knees, breathing heavily, while the mark on his chest pulses faintly from the adrenaline.
Elira scans the ruined street, her dagger ready. "It is quiet. Too quiet."
Lyra leans against a broken wall, her staff still glowing faintly. "We can rest for a moment. Thornhall scouts may be delayed. It is enough time to recover wounds."
Seris does not sit. She kneels beside Kael, brushing his hair from his face. "You should not rest alone. I will stay with you. Always."
Elira's golden eyes flicker. "He is not yours alone. One step too close, and I will remind you of that."
Lyra rises to her feet, her calm gaze cutting through the tension. "Enough. If you fight each other here, Thornhall will find us faster. Focus on survival first."
Kael leans back against a wall, exhausted. He feels the chains of obsession tighten with every glance, every whispered claim. There is no peace even in safety.
Night falls. The ruined village is silent, except for the faint creak of broken beams and the distant howl of wolves. Kael feels the presence of the three girls around him like heat, cold, and shadow pressing on his chest.
Suddenly, a sharp whistle splits the air. Thornhall scouts have found them. Their armor glints in the moonlight as they emerge from the trees, forming a circle around the village.
Elira spins, her dagger ready. "They follow us. I will carve a path through them."
Lyra places herself between Kael and the scouts, staff glowing with a barrier of light. "They are not ordinary patrols. They are trackers. Kael, stay close."
Seris presses her body against his side, her eyes glimmering with devotion. "They will never take you. I will destroy anyone who tries."
Kael grips his sword. "We cannot fight them all. We have to force them back and escape."
The scouts advance. Crossbows click. Kael moves with precision, cutting through the first line. Elira tears into another, golden eyes alight with fury. Lyra blasts a scout with focused energy, knocking him to the ground.
Seris does not strike with weapons. Instead she hovers close, whispering words that make the mark flare hotter, feeding Kael with speed and reflex. Each strike he lands feels sharper, faster, unstoppable.
The scouts falter. They realize Kael is no ordinary target. The curse is alive, and three women fight not just for survival, but for him.
The last scout retreats with a whistle, signaling others hidden in the shadows. Thornhall's pursuit is relentless, and Kael knows this is only the beginning.
As the group regroups in the ruined village, the air is thick with sweat, blood, and unspoken tension. Kael leans against a crumbling wall. Seris presses closer than before. Elira glares, white-knuckled around her dagger. Lyra's eyes remain icy, watching both.
The ruined village grows quiet after the clash with Thornhall scouts. The moon shines pale through the broken rooftops, casting long shadows across the stone streets. Kael leans against a crumbling wall, exhaustion weighing on him, but sleep refuses.
Seris kneels beside him, brushing his hair back from his damp forehead. Her violet eyes glow faintly, and every movement is slow, deliberate, as if she is savoring the moment. "You are trembling," she whispers, her lips close to his ear. "Do you feel it? The mark burns hotter when I am near. You belong to me."
Kael swallows, his pulse quickening. Her warmth presses against his side, her hands light but impossible to ignore. The mark on his chest flares with sudden heat, feeding on the closeness, and he feels a shiver travel down his spine.
Elira's presence is nearby, just steps away, sharpening her dagger. She glances over, noticing Kael's tense expression and the way Seris leans into him. Her golden eyes narrow. "Do not let her play with you," she warns, voice low but trembling with possessive fury.
Seris does not flinch. Instead, she moves slightly closer, resting her hand over Kael's chest where the mark burns brightest. "I am not playing. Every heartbeat, every breath is yours. You cannot resist me, and I will not let you."
Kael feels the chains of obsession tighten, and he leans into her touch without meaning to. The sensation is electric, dangerous, and undeniable.
Lyra steps closer as well, her calm gaze watching them both, a flicker of jealousy in her blue eyes. "Kael," she murmurs, her voice soft, "do not let them overwhelm you. You are not a prize to be claimed. Yet the curse will not let you turn away either."
Seris leans even closer, lips brushing his shoulder. "You are mine. You cannot hide from me. I will claim every part of you."
Kael's body reacts despite his mind. His chest burns, his mind spins, and every instinct tells him to pull away and run. Yet he cannot. The mark pulses, feeding on the tension, feeding on the possessive devotion pressed against him.
Elira huffs in frustration, stepping closer. The scent of blood and sweat lingers between them. "Do not let her take what is mine," she hisses.
Lyra moves to his other side, resting a hand lightly on his forearm, her presence cool yet intense. "You cannot escape. You are bound to all of us. The curse chooses, and so do we."
Kael closes his eyes, caught in the storm of touch, devotion, and rivalry. The night stretches on, silent except for the sound of three women claiming him in different ways, each whisper, each breath, each touch igniting the mark into a blazing reminder of possession.
He knows the night will not last, but the chains grow heavier. The curse, the girls, and the unrelenting pull of desire leave him trapped between fire, ice, and shadow.
The ruins are silent except for the soft, ragged breathing of the group. Kael sits against the crumbling wall, heart racing, pulse pounding against the mark that burns hotter with every touch. Seris leans against his chest, her lips brushing his neck, whispering low and possessive.
"You are mine," she murmurs, voice trembling with need. "Every part of you belongs to me. Do you feel it? The curse binds you closer to me."
Kael swallows hard. His hands clench at his sides. He feels the weight of her devotion, impossible to resist. His chest burns, and he leans into her touch despite every warning in his mind.
Elira steps closer, dagger set aside, golden eyes gleaming. Her voice is low, husky, and sharp with jealousy. "Do not let her fool you. You belong to me as much as her. Do you hear me? Mine."
Kael feels a shiver run down his spine. Her fingers trail along his arm, firm and demanding. The chains of obsession tighten. Every movement, every whisper, feeds the mark, feeds the curse.
Lyra moves to his other side, hands on his shoulders, cool but insistent. Her voice is soft yet commanding. "Kael. Listen to me. You cannot turn away. The curse will not allow it. Yet I will be with you. I will not be ignored."
Seris whispers again, closer this time, lips against his collarbone. "Do you hear them? You belong to all of us. I will not let them take you."
Elira presses her forehead to his chest, hot breath on his skin. "Even if I must fight them both, I will hold you. Mine, Kael. Only mine."
Lyra's hand slides lower on his arm, her touch deliberate. "Every heartbeat is mine too. Every breath you take belongs to me as much as them."
Kael's vision spins. He can feel the chains tightening, every whisper, every moan, every possessive claim pushing the curse into flames across his chest. He cannot move. He cannot resist. All he can do is let the storm of their obsession wash over him.
Seris's fingers curl into his hair. "Do you feel it? The mark knows. It thrives on their need, on your surrender. You are ours."
Elira's voice drips with heat and jealousy. "Mine. Do you understand? You cannot leave me."
Lyra's tone is quieter, but no less commanding. "The curse chooses, and so do we. You will not escape."
Kael closes his eyes. The night is alive with their voices, their devotion, their madness. He is trapped, consumed, caught between fire, ice, and shadow. The chains of possession grow heavier, and the mark flares brighter, sealing him in a night from which there is no escape.