11. The Heart of the Curse

CHAPTER 11

THE HEART OF THE CURSE

F or a moment, Luca can't breathe.

This is Brynn—all of her. The beast and the woman. The fierce protector and the terrifying predator. She's a force of nature, a whirlwind of claws and teeth and unyielding strength, and she tore through the pack like a storm.

To save him.

Luca kneels in the dirt, his weapon forgotten, staring up at her in a daze. He can't look away—can't tear his gaze from the wild, untamed power she radiates. She should be terrifying. She is terrifying.

But more than that, she's… magnificent.

But what has this cost her? What has it taken?

Slowly, painfully, he forces himself to his feet. His knees wobble, and he almost collapses again before he manages to steady himself. But Brynn doesn't seem to notice. She's still staring at the twisted bodies strewn around the clearing, her breath coming in harsh, ragged bursts.

"Brynn," he whispers, his voice hoarse.

She doesn't respond. Doesn't even turn to look at him. Her gaze is fixed on the blood-soaked ground, her claws still twitching, her muscles trembling with the aftermath of the fight. The golden light in her eyes flickers, the fur rippling along her arms as if she's fighting to hold her form.

And when she finally turns, the look in her eyes makes his heart stutter.

"Luca, I—" Her voice breaks, raw and fractured. "I didn't mean to?—"

"Brynn." He takes a cautious step forward, ignoring the sting of the cuts and bruises covering his arms. "Brynn, it's okay."

"Did I—did I hurt you?" Her gaze drops to his arms, to the blood soaking his shirt, and she flinches, her form wavering. "I—oh gods, did I?—"

"No," he breathes, shaking his head quickly. "No, Brynn, you didn't—" He takes another step, heart twisting at the anguish in her eyes. "You saved me."

She stares at him, wide-eyed and trembling. Her claws are still half-sprung, the fur rippling and receding, and for a moment, Luca isn't sure she hears him.

"Brynn," he murmurs softly, his voice as gentle as he can make it. "You saved me."

Her gaze snaps to his, wild and desperate. She looks so… lost.

Like she's one breath away from shattering completely.

Slowly, cautiously, Luca reaches out. His fingers hover near her furred arm, close enough that he can feel the heat radiating off her, but he doesn't touch her. Not yet. He waits, his heart hammering, his breath catching as she stares at him.

And then, slowly—so slowly his hand trembles—he brushes his fingertips against her arm.

The tension bleeds out of Brynn in an instant. A shuddering breath escapes her, and her shoulders slump, the glow in her eyes dimming.

Her claws remain, her fur still bristling along her limbs, but the wild, uncontrollable rage seems to drain away at his touch. She stays as she is—Beast, monster, a creature of darkness—but she's no longer a threat.

Just… Brynn.

Trembling, vulnerable, her gaze locked on his with a raw, almost fragile intensity.

"You saved me," he whispers again, the words slipping out on a breath. "You saved me, Brynn."

A single tear slips down her cheek, glistening on her dark fur, and Luca's throat constricts. She opens her mouth, but no words come out. Just a soft, broken sound, like a sob torn from somewhere deep inside.

Before he can stop himself, he reaches up, his fingers brushing against her cheek, wiping the tear away.

"Brynn," he murmurs, his voice soft and sure all at once. "You didn't hurt me. You protected me."

Her breath stutters, and she turns her face slightly, her cheek pressing into his palm. The small, unconscious movement sends a jolt of warmth through him, a sweet tenderness that makes his throat tighten.

"Luca," she whispers, the sound so fragile it makes his heart twist. "I?—"

But before she can finish, something catches his eye. A faint glimmer, half-buried in the dirt beside her.

"Wait," he says softly, his gaze narrowing. "What's that?"

Brynn tenses, the moment between them shattering, and Luca steps back, his fingers brushing against something hard and cold. He kneels, frowning as he reaches down, his fingers curling around a small, jagged shard of black crystal. It's warm to the touch, pulsing faintly with dark energy, and the moment his skin brushes the surface, a sharp, searing pain lances through his palm.

"Ah!" He jerks back, and a twisted rune bursts to life, burning into his skin.

"No!" Brynn's voice is a strangled cry, panic flaring in her eyes. She knocks the crystal from his grasp, sending it skittering across the ground, and grabs his hand, her touch trembling. "No, no, no—Luca, that's—that's his."

"His?" Luca breathes, his voice tight with pain. His hand throbs, the rune still glowing faintly, and he stares at it, bewildered. "What?—?"

"It's Maelor's mark." She looks up at him, her eyes wide and desperate. "He knows we're here. He knows, Luca. He's—he's toying with us."

Maelor. The name sends a shiver racing down Luca's spine, a cold dread twisting in his gut. He glances back at the black shard, his ribs feeling too tight.

"Toying with us?" Luca repeats, his voice barely more than a rasp. His gaze flicks to the shard lying a few feet away, the twisted rune etched into his skin burning like a brand. "But why? Why would he?—?"

"Because he can," Brynn cuts in, a raw edge of terror in her tone. Her grip on his hand tightens, her fingers digging into his skin. "He's always done this—turned hope into a trap, used fear like a blade. It's how he breaks people. How he broke me."

Luca's gut clenches painfully at the anguish in her eyes, at the flickering shadow of the Beast rippling beneath her skin. He can see the memories swirling behind her gaze—the torment Maelor put her through, the manipulations that twisted her into believing she's a monster.

And now, Maelor is here again, dragging them both into his web of cruelty.

"Brynn, look at me," Luca says, ignoring the sting in his hand as he cups her face with his unmarked one. Her gaze snaps to his. "He never broke you. Do you hear me? Whatever he's planning—whatever game he's playing—we'll get through it. Together."

"Luca…" Her voice wavers, and for a heartbeat, he thinks she might pull away. But then her shoulders slump, the tension bleeding out of her. She squeezes her eyes shut, drawing in a shuddering breath. "You don't understand. This place—the Eldergrove—he's twisted it. Warped it. It's not just… not just a trap. It's a mirror."

"A mirror?" Luca's brow furrows, confusion warring with the unease coiling in his stomach.

"He's using it to—" Her gaze darts around the clearing, as if expecting shadows to leap out and ensnare them. "To feed the curse. To turn everything I hate, everything I'm afraid of—into reality. It's like… like the forest listens to him."

The words sink in like lead, dread settling deep in Luca's gut. A mirror. A forest that reflects the darkest parts of her—the Beast, the fear, the self-loathing. If Maelor can use that… if he can twist the Eldergrove's magic to amplify the curse…

Luca's grip tightens on her. "Then we have to fight it," he says, voice steady despite the knot of fear in his throat. "We can't let him use your fears against you."

"It's not that simple!" she cries, her voice rising in a desperate pitch. She pulls back, trembling violently. "I—I don't know how to stop it, Luca. Every time I try to push the curse back, it—it twists tighter. Like it's feeding on my?—"

She breaks off, her breath coming in ragged gasps, her eyes wild with panic. Luca's gut twists as he sees the cracks beginning to show—the terror breaking through her resolve, the Beast clawing its way to the surface.

And all at once, he understands.

The Eldergrove isn't just a reflection of her fears.

It's fueling them.

"Brynn, listen to me," he murmurs, his voice hard with determination. He steps closer, closing the distance between them, his hands cradling her face. "This is what he wants. He wants you to give in—to believe you're too broken to fight back. But you're not. You're stronger than this. Stronger than him."

"But what if I'm not?" Her voice is a choked whisper, her eyes glistening with tears. "What if I can't—what if I hurt you?"

"You won't," Luca says firmly, his gaze never leaving hers. "You won't. Because I believe in you, Brynn. I always have."

A tear slips down her cheek, glistening in the faint light, and for a moment, Luca thinks she might believe him. But then she flinches, her gaze dropping to his marked hand. The rune glows faintly, dark and malevolent, and Brynn recoils as if burned.

"That mark," she whispers, her voice trembling. "It's… it's his way in. He's going to use it to—to turn you against me. To make you… like the others."

A cold shiver runs down Luca's spine, but he shakes his head, refusing to let the fear take root. "I won't let him," he says with conviction. "I don't care what tricks he tries to pull—I won't turn on you, Brynn. Not ever."

"But he's already in, Luca!" she cries, a sob breaking free. "I can feel it—the way the curse is shifting. It's like it's waiting, watching, just biding its time until I—until we?—"

She breaks off, gasping, and Luca's heart clenches at the sight of her crumbling right in front of him. He doesn't know what to say—doesn't know how to reach her through the rising tide of despair.

But he can't let her fall. Not now.

Not when they're so close.

"Brynn." He leans in, pressing his forehead against hers. "You're not alone in this. Whatever happens—whatever Maelor throws at us—I'm with you. We're going to face him together, and we're going to win. Do you hear me?"

For a moment, she just stares at him, wide-eyed and trembling. And then, slowly—so slowly it feels like an eternity—she nods. A single, hesitant nod, but it's enough.

It's hope.

"Okay," she whispers, voice broken but resolute. "Okay. We'll—we'll face him together."

Luca exhales shakily, relief and determination flooding through him. He tightens his hold on her, his jaw set. "Good," he murmurs. "Then let's keep moving."

The deeper they venture into the Eldergrove, the more the air thickens with a dark, suffocating energy. The trees close in around them, their twisted branches clawing at the sky like hungry fingers. Shadows slither through the underbrush, darting just out of sight, and the ground beneath their feet is slick and unsteady, as if rejecting their presence.

Every step pulls Brynn further into the grip of the curse. Her breaths come in short, shallow gasps, the muscles along her back twitching as if something claws at her from within. Luca keeps close, his heart pounding in rhythm with the faint pulse of the Solheart shard in his pocket. The shard's glow is dim, like a struggling heartbeat against the oppressive darkness that clings to them like a living thing.

"Brynn, stay with me," he murmurs, reaching out as she stumbles.

But the words barely seem to reach her. Her form flickers, blurring between woman and Beast, her claws extending and retracting uncontrollably. The curse is tightening, pressing in on her from all sides.

"The trees," she gasps, her voice thin and strained. "They're… they're speaking…"

Luca's blood runs cold. He strains his ears, and then he hears it too—whispers, soft and insidious, weaving through the air like poisonous smoke. They twist and coil around them, filling the silence with words that send a shiver racing down his spine.

Monster.

Failure.

Betrayer .

The words slice through the stillness, echoing in the pit of his stomach. He tightens his grip on her arm. "Don't listen to them, Brynn. They're lies. Just lies."

But Brynn flinches, her eyes wide and wild. She staggers, and her claws burst forth in a sharp flash of gold, shredding through the sleeve of his shirt as she jerks away. Luca bites back a cry, stumbling, but he doesn't let go.

"Stop!" she cries, clutching her head. "Please, stop—I can't?—"

The shadows press closer, thickening around them like a living wall. The curse's dark energy swirls through the forest, pulling Brynn deeper into its web. Luca's heart hammers as he feels the Solheart shard in his pocket pulse, reacting to the overwhelming magic.

"It's the Eldergrove," he breathes, realization dawning. "It's Maelor—he's using the forest to?—"

"To break me," Brynn whispers, her voice barely more than a breath. "Like he did before."

The words send a surge of rage through Luca's veins. He looks around frantically, searching for some sign—some clue as to how Maelor's doing this. The whispers, the darkness, the oppressive magic—they're all coming from somewhere. Something in the forest is amplifying the curse, feeding it.

The Solheart shard flares.

Luca gasps as the faint light in his pocket brightens, tugging at him with a strange, insistent pull. It's as if the shard is reacting to something deep within the forest—a power source, a beacon.

Or a trap.

He clenches his hands, glancing at Brynn. She's trembling violently, her eyes locked on some unseen horror, her form warping and twisting under the pressure of the curse.

"We have to keep moving," he says, forcing his voice to remain steady. "Whatever it is, we have to find it. We can't stay here."

Brynn nods shakily, but her eyes are glazed, her body wracked with shivers. Luca's heart thumps hard against his ribs. He has to get her out—has to keep her moving before the curse crushes her completely. He wraps an arm around her middle, guiding her forward as the shard's glow pulses like a heartbeat in the darkness.

Just a little further, he thinks desperately. Just a little further, and we'll?—

They stumble into a clearing.

And the world falls silent.

It's a twisted parody of life. The ground is scarred and blackened, as if burned by some terrible force. The trees that ring the space are withered and warped, their trunks split and rotting. But it's the altar that draws Luca's gaze—a jagged, blackened slab of stone at the center of the clearing, radiating a malevolent energy that makes his skin crawl.

He sucks in a sharp breath, his fingers curling tighter around Brynn's arm. "Brynn… do you see?—"

But she isn't looking at the altar. Her eyes are locked on the shadows swirling around it, her breath coming in short, harsh gasps.

And then Luca feels it—a low, chilling ripple that sends shivers racing down his spine.

A voice.

Soft at first, like the rustle of dry leaves, but growing stronger, sharper, until it fills the clearing, cutting through the stillness like a sword.

"Well, well," the voice purrs, dripping with cruel amusement. "Isn't this touching?"

Luca's blood stills in his veins.

Brynn stiffens beside him, a strangled gasp escaping her lips, and Luca turns slowly, his heart thrumming in his chest as the shadows around the altar begin to twist and solidify. A figure steps out of the darkness, tall and cloaked, his eyes gleaming with a cold, malevolent light.

Maelor.

Luca's breath catches in his throat, his stomach twisting with dread as the sorcerer's gaze sweeps over them, lingering on Brynn with a dark, hungry smile. "You have no power over her, Maelor."

"Such brave words, little scholar," Maelor murmurs, his voice soft and mocking. "But tell me—do you really think you can save her?"

"Stay away from her," Luca snarls, stepping in front of Brynn despite the fear clawing at his chest.

Maelor just laughs—a low, dark sound that sends a ice down Luca's spine.

"Ah, the hero." Maelor's smile widens, his gaze shifting back to Brynn. "And what about you, my dear? Did you really think you could escape me?"

Brynn flinches, a soft, broken sound tearing from her throat. She shakes her head violently, her hands clutching at her head as if trying to tear the sound of his voice out of her mind.

"Stop," she whispers, her voice thin and desperate. "Please—please, stop?—"

"Why?" Maelor's smile twists, his eyes gleaming with malice. "You can't hide what you are, Brynn. You can't hide the monster inside you."

"Don't listen to him!" Luca cries, grabbing her arm.

But Brynn trembles, her eyes wide and wild, the shadows twisting around her limbs like chains.

"See how she shakes," Maelor murmurs, his voice a poisonous whisper. "See how she breaks. This is what you are, Brynn. A beast. A weapon. A failure."

"No," she gasps, her voice breaking. "No, I?—"

But the shadows tighten, dark tendrils wrapping around her limbs, pulling her to her knees.

"No!" Luca lunges forward, his heart in his throat, but he's too late.

The curse flares, inky tendrils coiling around her like serpents, and Brynn's body contorts, a strangled scream tearing from her lips.

With a choked sob, the Beast expands, dark and feral, and Luca's thrown back, his vision blurring as the world shatters around him.

He hits the ground hard, the breath knocked out of him, and for a moment, everything's a blur of pain and confusion.

But then he looks up, his heart seizing in his chest.

Brynn—no, the Beast—stands at the center of the clearing, her eyes glowing with dark, feral rage.

Maelor's voice, low and deadly, whispers through the air.

"Now," he breathes, a cold, twisted smile curling his lips. "Let's see what you truly are, Brynn."