A hush fell over the clearing, the kind of silence that felt unnatural, as though the world itself was afraid to breathe. The light that had exploded from Vivian's chest moments ago had not simply faded—it had been consumed.
Sebastian's hands trembled as he cradled her against him. Her skin had grown cold in mere moments, her body slack, as if the life had drained from her entirely. But something wasn't right. This wasn't what death looked like. He had seen death, far too many times.
This was something else.
His breath came in ragged gasps as he looked down at her face. Her lips were slightly parted, her eyelashes dark against her pale cheeks. The dagger still protruded from her chest, but no blood spilled forth—only a faint, swirling darkness, a shadowy mist rising into the air like it was being pulled from her very soul.
Sebastian turned his gaze toward the figures standing a few feet away—the woman who had watched all this unfold with quiet understanding, and the man whose face remained unreadable.
"She's not—" Sebastian's voice cracked. "She's not dead."
The woman nodded, stepping forward, her gaze locked onto Vivian's unmoving form. "No. She is between."
Sebastian clenched his jaw. "Between what?"
The woman knelt beside them, her dark eyes searching his as she reached out a hand, hovering just above the wound. "Between existence and oblivion."
A pulse of cold radiated from the dagger as she spoke, as if the weapon itself understood what had been set into motion. Sebastian felt his own body tense in response, a shiver running through him that had nothing to do with fear.
"What does that mean?" His voice was low, strained. "What the hell did she do?"
"She ended the cycle."
The man finally spoke, his voice like rusted steel. He took a step forward, his presence towering. "But ending is not the same as escaping."
Sebastian's grip on Vivian tightened. "She broke the curse. She chose."
"She did." The woman exhaled. "But the curse was bound not just to her, but to all of us. It is not something that disappears—it must go somewhere."
Sebastian's stomach twisted. "Where?"
The woman's fingers finally brushed the hilt of the dagger. A shockwave rippled outward, sending an unnatural wind through the clearing. The trees groaned, their branches bending unnaturally, shadows elongating. The air shimmered, distorting like heat rising from pavement.
Sebastian's breath caught as he felt it—a pull, like the weight of something shifting, realigning. And in that moment, he understood.
The curse had not been destroyed.
It had merely been transferred.
And the recipient lay unconscious in his arms.
"No," he whispered, shaking his head. "No, no, no—"
"She severed the loop," the woman continued, her voice soft yet unyielding. "But the energy—the binding force that kept it repeating—had to latch onto something. It has chosen her."
Sebastian's pulse pounded in his ears. "Then we get it out of her."
The woman's lips pressed into a thin line. "It's not that simple."
"It never is," he snarled, his patience fracturing. His grip tightened on Vivian's still form. "You knew this would happen, didn't you? You knew that breaking the cycle wouldn't just free her—that it would trap her instead."
The woman didn't deny it.
Rage burned through Sebastian's veins, but before he could speak, a shift in the air made him freeze.
A sound—so faint, so delicate, yet undeniably there.
A breath.
Sebastian's gaze snapped down to Vivian's face.
Her lips parted slightly, the ghost of air escaping her lungs. Her fingers twitched, just barely, as if she were fighting through an unseen force. And then—
Her eyes opened.
But they were not the eyes he knew.
Instead of the familiar stormy gray, they were pitch black. Not just dark—not just shadowed—but consumed, like the void of the night sky had swallowed her irises whole.
Sebastian's breath caught. "Vivian—"
Her lips moved, but no sound came out. Her chest rose and fell in shallow, uneven gasps, as if every breath was a battle. The darkness swirling from her wound began to retract, spiraling inward instead of escaping. The dagger pulsed, the air around it thick with something unseen, something ancient.
Then, all at once—
She screamed.
The force of it shattered the stillness, sending a shockwave through the clearing. Sebastian's arms tightened around her instinctively, but a force slammed into him, throwing him backward. He hit the ground hard, his vision momentarily going white.
The wind howled around them. The trees bent, groaning under the unseen pressure. The world itself shuddered.
And at the center of it all—
Vivian rose.
Her body lifted into the air, her limbs limp, her hair fanning out around her as if she were submerged underwater. The darkness inside her spread, snaking up her arms, curling along her jawline like creeping vines of ink. Her fingers twitched, then curled into fists.
Sebastian struggled to his feet. "Vivian!"
She didn't respond. Her expression was distant, detached—yet something stirred behind those blackened eyes. A flicker, a glimmer of recognition.
The woman took a cautious step forward. "Vivian."
Something inside her snapped.
Vivian's head jerked toward the sound, and the moment her gaze locked onto the woman—
She moved.
Faster than thought, faster than breath—
One second she was suspended in the air.
The next, she was in front of the woman, a dagger pressed to her throat.
A dagger that was no longer embedded in Vivian's chest.
Sebastian's breath caught.
The woman didn't flinch.
Vivian's voice, when she spoke, was layered—her own voice, but beneath it, something else. Something older.
"You knew."
The woman's dark eyes didn't waver. "Yes."
Vivian tilted her head. "And still, you waited."
"Yes."
A slow smile crept across Vivian's lips—but it was wrong. It didn't belong to her.
The man stepped forward, his presence like a storm on the horizon. "Vivian," he said, his voice calm but commanding. "You need to fight it."
Her gaze flickered to him. A twitch of something—pain? Recognition? But then, just as quickly, it was gone.
She pressed the dagger harder against the woman's throat.
And whispered one word.
"Why?"
The woman exhaled softly, as if she had been waiting for that very question.
"Because you were never meant to be the one to end this."
The dagger trembled in Vivian's grip. For a moment—just a moment—her fingers twitched.
And then—
Her blackened eyes widened.
Something inside her cracked.
The air around them stilled.
And Sebastian realized, with cold, sharp certainty—
The fight was far from over.
To be continued...