The penthouse was made of glass.
That was the first thing Izana registered when the elevator doors opened.
Glass walls. Glass railings. Sunlight pouring in from every direction like a blade drawn across his vision. Noon light—merciless and absolute—flooded the unfinished floor in white fire.
His blindfold hung useless in his hand.
And at the center of it all—
Leah.
On her knees.
A gun pressed to her head.
The world went silent.
Not quiet.
Silent.
His heartbeat slowed instead of racing. Each pulse struck deep and heavy in his ears. The light did not simply hurt—it invaded him. Crawled under his skin. Scraped against his nerves.
The rival stood a few feet behind Leah, one hand lazily gripping the weapon, the other tucked into his coat pocket.
He smiled.
"I wondered how long it would take you."
Izana didn't answer.
He couldn't.
The sunlight burned through his eyes like molten glass, but he didn't blink. Didn't move. Didn't breathe.
Something inside him snapped.
Not loudly.
Not violently.
Just—
Gone.
His pupils narrowed until they were nearly slits. The tremor that began in his fingers spread up his arms, down his spine.
The curse didn't awaken.
It detonated.
The rival saw it happen.
He stepped back slightly—not out of fear, but anticipation.
"Yes," he murmured. "There it is."
Izana moved.
Not fast.
Too fast.
One second he stood in the elevator's shadow. The next, the man holding Leah was on the floor, his gun skidding across polished concrete. Two more guards rushed forward.
They never reached him.
Izana's movements weren't calculated anymore. They weren't elegant. There was no strategy in them.
Only instinct.
He didn't hesitate. Didn't pause. Didn't measure force.
The room filled with chaos—shouting, bodies falling, the crash of glass as someone hit a wall hard enough to spiderweb it.
Leah stared.
She had seen Izana fight before.
This wasn't that.
This wasn't a king defending his throne.
This was a predator in open sunlight.
And the sunlight was feeding it.
Within seconds, the room was still.
Too still.
The rival had stepped back near the far windows, untouched, observing like a scientist watching an experiment conclude.
Izana stood in the center of the room, chest rising and falling slowly.
Too slowly.
Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth—not from injury inflicted by another—but from within. The strain. The light. The curse forcing something unnatural through his veins.
He didn't seem to notice.
Leah pushed herself up shakily.
"Izana…"
He didn't respond.
He was staring at nothing.
Or everything.
The light reflected in his eyes wrong. Not human. Not focused.
Just—
Hunting.
The rival tilted his head.
"Careful," he said softly. "He doesn't see you right now."
Leah's breath caught.
Izana's head turned.
Slowly.
Until he was looking at her.
But he wasn't looking at her.
He was assessing movement.
Her pulse roared in her ears.
"Izana," she tried again, voice trembling.
He stepped forward.
Not rushed.
Measured.
Like something stalking wounded prey.
Her heart dropped.
He didn't recognize her.
His head tilted slightly to the side, studying. His fingers flexed.
She took one step back.
And that was enough.
In a blur of motion, he was in front of her.
His hand wrapped around her wrist.
Too tight.
Pain shot up her arm.
His grip wasn't malicious.
It was instinctive.
Predatory.
His breathing was uneven, shallow, like something fighting itself inside him.
"Izana," she whispered.
No response.
His other hand lifted slightly.
Her pulse spiked.
For the first time since she met him—
She was afraid of him.
The rival's voice drifted through the room.
"A king falls fastest when he chooses love over survival."
Izana's grip tightened.
Leah winced.
But she didn't pull away.
Instead—
She stepped closer.
Even as fear clawed at her chest.
"Look at me," she said softly.
Nothing.
His eyes were empty. Cold. Evaluating.
"Izana."
Still nothing.
Her wrist throbbed under his grip.
Then she said something only she could say.
"You took off your blindfold to see me."
A flicker.
Barely there.
She swallowed.
"You called me beautiful."
His breathing stuttered.
For half a second, his grip loosened—
Then tightened again as the curse surged violently through him. His pupils trembled.
She stepped even closer.
Close enough that her forehead nearly touched his chest.
"You said you'd protect me," she whispered.
His hand shook.
His head jerked slightly, like something inside him recoiling.
"Izana."
His name broke on her lips.
And suddenly—
His expression cracked.
Recognition flickered through the darkness in his eyes.
Confusion.
Horror.
He looked down.
At his hand.
At her wrist.
Red marks already forming.
His hand dropped as if burned.
He staggered back.
As if she had struck him.
Leah's wrist fell to her side, aching.
He stared at it.
At what he had done.
"I…" His voice was hoarse. Strained. "I…"
The rival watched, satisfied.
"There it is," he murmured.
Izana's breathing grew erratic.
The sunlight seemed brighter now—merciless, piercing. His vision swam.
He took another step back from Leah.
Not from fear of her.
From fear of himself.
"Don't," he said under his breath.
Leah moved toward him instinctively.
He flinched.
That hurt more than the grip.
"Stay back," he whispered.
His hands were shaking violently now.
"Please."
The word barely made it out.
The rival chuckled softly.
"You see? She will always be your weakness."
Izana didn't look at him.
He couldn't.
His world was narrowing.
His chest tightened violently.
A sharp cough tore from him—
And dark red splattered against the pristine concrete.
Leah's eyes widened.
"Izana!"
He wiped at his mouth instinctively, staring at the blood on his fingers like he didn't understand how it got there.
Another cough.
More blood.
The curse was tearing through him from the inside out.
Not because of the fight.
Because he had forced it past its limits.
Because he chose her.
He straightened slightly despite the pain.
His eyes—human now—met hers.
And they were filled with something worse than rage.
Self-loathing.
"I hurt you," he said quietly.
Her throat tightened. "You didn't—."
"I did."
He took another step back.
Putting distance between them.
Deliberate.
"I can't—." His voice faltered as another cough wracked him. "I can't be near you."
Leah shook her head. "No."
"If it happens again—." His breathing grew shallow. "I won't stop in time."
The rival began walking toward the exit calmly.
His work was done.
"I warned you," he said lightly. "A king who chooses love invites his own downfall."
Izana didn't chase him.
He couldn't.
The sunlight felt like knives under his skin now. His vision blurred at the edges.
Leah reached for him.
He stepped back again.
That hurt her more than anything else that had happened.
"Stay away from me," he whispered.
Not cold.
Not angry at her.
Angry at himself.
"I won't let you become collateral."
His knees buckled slightly, but he forced himself upright.
He would not fall in front of her.
Not again.
Leah's voice broke. "I'm not afraid of you."
He looked at her then.
Truly looked.
"That's what terrifies me."
Another cough.
More blood.
He turned away from her.
As if the sight of her made it worse.
"I will end this," he said quietly. "Before it ends you."
And for the first time—
Leah realized something far more frightening than the curse.
Izana was beginning to believe the rival.
That loving her was a mistake.
The sunlight stretched across the floor between them.
A wide, glowing divide.
And Izana stood on the other side.
Alone.
Breathing hard.
Blood on his hand.
Refusing to cross back to her.