The cold wind howled through the thick, towering trees of the Blackwood forest, carrying whispers of ancient curses. Isabella wrapped her cloak tighter around her shoulders as her carriage came to a halt before the iron gates of the cursed estate. The estate had a name -Drakmoor- but it was more than a name. It was a place of legend, of shadows, of whispers in the dark.
"Miss Isabella," the coachman's voice trembled as he opened the door. "We've arrived."
Isabella took a deep breath, stepping out into the night. The gates creaked open as if by magic, revealing the looming, gothic mansion ahead. Its tall spires pierced the sky, and the air around it seemed colder, darker, like the night itself was afraid of what lay inside.
With slow, deliberate steps, she walked up the stone path, her heart pounding in her chest. She had heard the rumors the devil's son resided here. And she, by some cruel twist of fate, had been promised to him.
The door swung open before she could knock. Standing in the grand doorway was a tall, imposing figure, silhouetted by the dim light inside. He stepped forward, revealing his face, and Isabella froze.
He was breathtakingly handsome raven-black hair that curled slightly at the ends, sharp jawline, and eyes the color of molten gold. But his beauty was cold, like a statue carved of marble. He radiated power and danger. This was Lucian, the devil's son. Her betrothed.
His gaze slid over her with thinly veiled contempt. "So," his voice was deep, low, dripping with disdain, "this is the bride they send me. Another pathetic mortal sacrifice."
Isabella swallowed hard, meeting his gaze despite the fear clawing at her. "I didn't ask for this any more than you did."
Lucian's lips twisted into a mocking smile. "Then we are in agreement. I want nothing to do with you, and you with me. This union is nothing more than a curse forced upon us."
Isabella straightened, fighting the tremble in her voice. "You think I wanted this? To be sold off like property to a—" she hesitated, "—to a demon?"
His eyes darkened, a dangerous glint flashing within them. "Careful, little girl. You have no idea who you are speaking to."
"I know exactly who you are," she shot back, surprising herself with her boldness. "Lucian, son of the Devil. The one who strikes fear into kingdoms and rules the night. But I am not some helpless girl you can intimidate."
Lucian's eyes narrowed, and in one swift movement, he was standing in front of her, too close, his breath warm against her cheek despite the coldness he exuded. "You are nothing," he whispered harshly. "Nothing but a pawn in a game far older and darker than you can comprehend. Do not delude yourself into thinking you have any power here."
Her heart pounded, but she refused to back down. "If I am nothing, then why bother with this charade? End it. Reject me, and be free."
Lucian's jaw clenched, and for a moment, his eyes flickered with something unreadable. Anger? Frustration? Pain? But just as quickly, the cold mask returned. "It's not that simple," he said icily, stepping back. "This curse binds us, whether I want it or not. But do not mistake this for anything more than necessity. You are nothing to me, and you never will be."
Isabella's heart sank, but she refused to show weakness in front of him. "Then let us make this clear. I will stay here because I must, but I do not need your kindness, and I certainly do not need your approval. If we are cursed to be together, then we will be, but I won't cower before you."
Lucian's eyes flashed with irritation, but also something like intrigue. "You have spirit," he said softly, almost as though he were talking to himself. "That will make this more interesting."
Without another word, he turned sharply on his heel and walked into the shadows of the mansion, his long coat billowing behind him. Isabella hesitated for a moment before following him into the unknown.
As she crossed the threshold, she could feel the weight of the curse settle upon her like a second skin. She was in his world now. A world of demons, darkness, and cold, ruthless power.
And Lucian, the devil's son, hated her.
But beneath that cold, hateful exterior, Isabella sensed there was something more. Something hidden. A secret that could be the key to breaking the curse or condemning them both.
For now, though, she could only prepare for the battle of wills that lay ahead.