Page 1 of Cursed

Darkness swirled around me,thick enough that I wondered if I could push it aside with my bare hands.

Ridiculous.

The estate remained perpetually shrouded in mist, with storms appearing to churn incessantly above the mansion. The air always felt damp… and it clung to my skin in ways that I couldn’t avoid.

There was nothing I could do to stop it. Nothing I could do to change anything.

Helpless.

Alone.

Always alone.

The garden loomed before me, a patchwork of shadows that flexed and moved as the clouds rolled over the moon. Silvery light clung to the edges of the clouds, but its faint light barely pierced the oppressive darkness—but I could see the path.

Barely.

I dashed forward, and rain spattered against my cheek. I wiped it away and glanced up at the clouds as the rain fell harder and faster. It soaked through my clothes, pasting the expensive material to my limbs and slowing my stride as the chill bit at my skin. Each step threatened to send me skidding into the mud, and branches clawed at my arms, as if the garden itself sought to hold me back.

“Just a little further,” I hissed through gritted teeth. Breathless and choking on frustrated tears, I stumbled through the tangled underbrush. The scent of damp earth mingled with something more sinister—a hint of decay that always lingered here… like an unwelcome guest. I was almost there.

Escape.

Freedom.

The wall that enclosed the garden loomed above me—I knew I would be able to climb it, the vines were old and sturdy.

They could hold my weight. I was sure of it.

My fingers brushed against the wet foliage and I bit back a cry of pain as the sharp-edged leaves tore at my palms.

The vines that had seemed so sturdy and an easy climb now seemed daunting. As I stared at them, I realized how strangely they twisted upward, dark and serpentine.

I took a deep breath, willing my limbs to obey, and set my hands onto the thick branches.

Climb. You have to do it.

Otherwise— Otherwise what?

There was only one possibility that awaited me.

Lucian would make me his bride—and it wouldn’t matter how much I resisted or tried to escape. I had no doubt that I would end up as dead as my mother.

No one was going to save me.

I couldn’t let that happen.

My sobs choked my throat, and tears stung my eyes, but I blinked them away as I pushed myself upward.

Hand over hand, agonizingly slow.

But I was making progress.

The vines were rough under my palms, and every movement was an agony, but freedom was so close…

Suddenly, the vine under my left hand shuddered.

I paused and stared at it in disbelief.

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