Cursed to Love You

Chapter One The Burning Borderlands Ash hung heavy in the air, curling through the blackened trees like ghosts unwilling to leave. Smoke ghosted up from the charred soil, painting the horizon in shades of ruin. Eira Ravenshade stood at the edge of the forest, her cloak smeared with soot, and her violet eyes fixed on the distant spires of Dravenhart Castle. “How poetic,” she muttered, fingering the obsidian charm that pulsed against her collarbone. “A kingdom built on the bones of witches.” The border between Eldrath and the Wildlands was marked by nothing more than scorched earth now—burned by Kael’s soldiers and cursed by her kind. Her boots crunched against the brittle remnants of old spells as she stepped closer to the invisible line where her people once thrived. She should have turned back. She should have waited for the full moon. She should have listened to her sister. But hatred had no patience. Eira raised her palm. Magic swirled to her fingertips, crackling gold and violet. She whispered the incantation that had lived inside her for years—the one meant to bind the Prince’s power to ruin. Except something went wrong. Pain exploded in her chest, sharp and sudden, as if something ancient had awoken and clawed its way out. Her knees hit the dirt. The spell rebounded, wild and screaming, and the charm at her neck burned red-hot. Miles away, inside the high tower of Dravenhart Castle, Prince Kael dropped his sword. The steel hit stone with a clang, forgotten. His hand flew to his heart, eyes wide as a matching burn carved itself across his skin in the shape of a crescent moon. “What in the hells…” he breathed, staggering backward. And somewhere deep in the echoes of the old forest, a curse whispered to life. Kael gritted his teeth as the pain subsided into a simmering throb. The burn pulsed under his skin—familiar, almost… sentient. He pulled his tunic aside, revealing the mark just over his heart. A perfect crescent moon, glowing faintly like embers under flesh. He had seen this before. Not in real life, but in the old scrolls. The forbidden ones locked in the vault below the royal library. He cursed under his breath and spun on his heel. He needed answers. And there was only one place in the castle where anyone ever dared to speak the name of magic. In the shadows of the forest, Eira gasped back air. The world spun. Her hand trembled as she touched her charm—it had cracked straight down the middle. “No,” she whispered. “No, no, no…” The curse had missed. Or worse—it had chosen. She could feel it. Like a thread, invisible but unbreakable, tying her chest to another heartbeat far, far away. Magic wasn't meant to do this. The spell was crafted to torment her enemy, not bind them. A familiar voice broke her panic. “You look like you tried to kiss a flame.” Eira whipped around, hand glowing with power, but lowered it when she saw the tall figure emerging from the mist. Thorne, her half-brother and the last of the Ravenshade sentinels, approached with his usual swagger and soot-streaked face. “You’re late,” she snapped. “You’re cursed,” he countered, eyeing her with more concern than humor. “I felt it the moment it happened. The forest shivered.” “It wasn’t supposed to… connect us.” “Curses never do what you expect,” he said, then added quietly, “Especially not blood-bound ones.” Eira’s stomach twisted. “You think I tied our souls?” “I think you just bound yourself to the heir of Eldrath. And if I’m right…” He exhaled sharply. “Then you’re cursed to love him.” Beneath the castle, Kael descended into the library’s forbidden wing. Dust rose in thick plumes, clinging to the air like cobwebs. Only one other person held the keys to these archives—the royal Seer. “Looking for bedtime stories, Your Highness?” came a voice from the shadows. Kael turned to find a woman cloaked in grey, her pale hair draped in soft braids. She was ancient by the look of her, and possibly older than the castle itself. “I need answers,” he said without preamble. “About witch curses. Soulbinding.” Her eyes sharpened. “You felt it, didn’t you? The tether.” He nodded once. She stepped closer and touched the mark on his chest. It pulsed under her fingers. “Then you’re already too late.” Kael’s jaw tensed. “Too late for what?” The Seer’s fingers drifted away from his chest, her expression unreadable. “The bond has been forged. Soulbinding is older than kingdoms. Stronger than prophecy. And crueler than fate.” “I didn’t choose this,” Kael growled. “No one ever does.” He turned from her, pacing the cracked marble floor. “Is it reversible?” The Seer tilted her head. “You want it undone because it’s with a witch? Or because it forces you to feel something beyond control?” Kael’s silence was answer enough. “Reversal would require her consent,” the Seer said. “And even then… there would be a cost. A binding this powerful doesn’t unravel—it breaks. And when it breaks, so do those tied by it.” He ran a hand through his hair, the air closing in around him. “Then I need to find her. Now.” The Seer only nodded. “Follow the pull. You’ll know where she is… because your heart won’t rest until you do.” In the heart of the Wildlands, Eira stood with her palms against the bark of an ancient tree, letting the magic of the forest hum through her skin. Thorne leaned against a rock nearby, arms crossed, his gaze never leaving her. “You’re going after him,” he said flatly. Eira didn’t respond. “You know what happens if the bond deepens. What it does to your kind—what it did to Mother.” Her throat tightened. She remembered. The madness. The slow unraveling of self. The way their mother had stared out at nothing, whispering a man’s name long after he’d died. “I won’t fall in love,” she said coldly. “I just need to fix it.” Thorne didn’t look convinced. “And if fixing it means facing him?” Eira turned, her eyes burning like amethyst fire. “Then I’ll look him in the eye and make him bleed.” In the distance, storm clouds gathered—dark and full of omens. Two hearts now beat in rhythm, separated by land, history, and hatred. But the curse had no regard for such things. It simply tightened its grip. And waited. Kael’s steps echoed through the winding corridors as he made his way toward the castle gates. The crescent mark throbbed beneath his tunic, a constant reminder that this curse was no mere accident. Whoever had done this—whoever had cursed him—had sent a message loud and clear. He had to find Eira Ravenshade. Outside, the wind howled through the broken branches of the Wildlands, carrying whispers of ancient magic and old grudges. Eira waited near the edge of the forest, eyes scanning the darkening sky as dusk bled into night. She could feel the pull of the curse, dragging her toward a destiny she’d never wanted. Their fates were entwined—whether they liked it or not. The first step toward the inevitable had already been taken. Moonlight spilled like silver over the jagged stones lining the path to Eldrath’s gates. Kael’s breath came in steady bursts as he approached, every sense alert—ready for an ambush, a trap, or worse. But there was only silence. Only the weight of the curse binding him to a witch he’d been raised to hate. He paused, fingers grazing the hilt of his sword. The cold steel was a comfort, but it wouldn’t protect him from what the curse demanded. From what she demanded. From Eira. Deep in the forest, Eira’s heartbeat quickened, matching the rhythmic pulse she could almost hear beneath her skin—his heartbeat. The bond was stronger than any spell she’d ever cast, stronger than the hatred between their worlds. She hated him. She hated that she needed him. And she hated that, somehow, that need was growing. Kael stepped beyond the gates, the scent of burning wood and wildflowers mingling in the cool night air. His eyes scanned the shadows, searching for the witch who had cursed him. “Eira Ravenshade,” he called softly, voice steady despite the storm inside. From the darkness, a figure stepped forward. Her eyes glinted with fierce defiance—and something else he couldn’t name. “Prince Dravenhart,” she said, voice low but steady. “You’re far from the safety of your throne.” He met her gaze without flinching. “And you’re far from the Wildlands’ shadows.” The space between them crackled—not just with magic, but with the tension of two souls inexplicably tethered by a curse neither wanted. The night held its breath. Eira’s gaze sharpened, the flicker of firelight catching the edges of her sharp features. “Why have you come, Kael? To break the curse? Or to finish what your soldiers started?” Kael took a slow step closer, the distance between them shrinking, yet a chasm of history and pain still yawning wide. “Neither. I came because I have no choice.” She laughed—a bitter, almost broken sound. “No choice? You always have a choice. Your ancestors chose to hunt us. You chose to wear that crown.” His jaw clenched. “I never asked for this curse. But now that it’s here, it binds us. I need to understand it… and you.” Eira’s violet eyes narrowed. “You want to understand me? Or control me?” Kael’s breath hitched. “Maybe both.” The tension was a living thing between them, as real and dangerous as the curse itself. And in that moment, under the cold gaze of the moon, neither could deny the fragile, aching thread beginning to weave their fates together. Neither could deny the curse was more than punishment—it was a twisted invitation. A gust of wind swept through the clearing, carrying the scent of jasmine and ash. Eira tightened her cloak, the warmth of the curse flickering like a flame against her skin. “You’re a fool, Kael Dravenhart,” she said softly, voice trembling. “This curse… it will destroy you. Destroy us.” He met her eyes with a steady calm she hadn’t expected. “Then maybe I’m already destroyed.” The words hung between them like a promise—one neither was ready to keep, yet neither could escape. And so, beneath the ancient trees and a sky heavy with stars, their story began—cursed, complicated, and impossible to turn away from. Kael lowered his voice, the hardness in his tone softening just enough to reveal the weight beneath. “I don’t want to be your enemy anymore, Eira. This curse… it’s forced us together, but maybe it’s also showing us something we’ve been blind to.” Eira’s eyes flickered with disbelief. “You speak of peace after a lifetime of war? After your soldiers burned my home, slaughtered my people?” He swallowed hard, the guilt sharp and raw. “I won’t pretend to erase the past. But I refuse to be the man who lets it dictate the future.” She studied him for a long moment, searching for the lie beneath the words but finding none. “Why should I believe you?” she whispered. “Because,” Kael said, stepping closer, “I’m cursed to love you. And I don’t want to fight that anymore.” Eira’s breath caught, the invisible tether tightening—binding their hearts against their wills. And somewhere, deep within the shadows, the ancient curse stirred—watching, waiting, and weaving its dark magic tighter still. The forest seemed to hold its breath as the first fragile thread of something new began to form between two souls sworn to destroy each other. A curse that was never meant to be love… but was becoming one all the same. The moon dipped lower, casting long shadows across the clearing where Eira and Kael stood, bound by a curse neither had chosen. The air between them shimmered with unspoken truths, and the quiet hum of magic thrummed beneath their skin like a heartbeat. Kael reached out, hesitating for a fraction of a second before brushing a stray lock of hair from Eira’s face. His fingers trembled slightly, betraying the steel he wore like armor. “Tell me,” he said softly, “what is it like to carry a curse that forces you to love your enemy?” Eira’s eyes darkened, and she stepped back, breaking the fragile contact. “It’s like carrying a fire in your chest—one that burns everything you hold dear, even yourself.” Kael nodded, the pain mirrored in his gaze. “Then maybe together we can find a way to control the flame instead of letting it consume us.” She searched his face, looking for the lies, the tricks, the weapon beneath the words. Finding none, a flicker of something new—a fragile hope—ignited deep inside her. But before either could speak again, the wind shifted, carrying a whisper from the shadows—a warning that the curse was far from done weaving its dark threads. Deep in the castle’s heart, the council of Eldrath stirred with unrest. Whispers of the prince’s strange affliction spread like wildfire, and old enemies plotted to use the curse for their own gain. Kael’s path was no longer his own. The fate of a kingdom—and a witch—hung in the balance. Outside, Eira clenched her fists, feeling the weight of centuries pressing down on her shoulders. They say love is a blessing, she thought bitterly. But what if love is the cruelest curse of all? The night wrapped around them, endless and uncertain, as two enemies stepped into the shadows of a fate neither could escape. Kael woke before dawn, the crescent mark still glowing faintly beneath his skin. The castle was silent, but his mind raced—twisting through every word Eira had said, every unspoken fear between them. He dressed quickly, the cold air biting through the stone halls as he slipped outside to the courtyard. There, the first light of morning painted the sky with streaks of rose and gold. He wasn’t ready to face the court today—not while the curse whispered its secrets, binding him to a witch he barely knew but could not deny. Far from the castle, Eira paced beneath the twisted branches of the Ravenshade trees. The weight of her family’s legacy pressed on her, but a strange light flickered within—a fragile hope that maybe, just maybe, this curse could be something more than a weapon. Her fingers brushed the cracked charm at her throat. It pulsed with the heartbeat of a man she both feared and hated. A man she was cursed to love. She wasn’t sure if that made her the luckiest or the most damned woman alive. Back in Eldrath, Kael met with his closest advisor, Lord Malric, a man whose loyalty was as sharp as the blade at his side. “The prince is distracted,” Malric warned, his voice low. “This… bond you bear is dangerous. The council murmurs of treason and witchcraft.” Kael’s eyes darkened. “I will not let them turn this curse into a weapon against me or Eira.” Malric hesitated, then nodded slowly. “Then you will need allies you can trust.” Kael clenched his fists. “Then I must find them—before the curse destroys everything I am.” Outside the borders of Eldrath and the Wildlands, shadows stirred. Old magic awakened. The curse that bound Eira and Kael was only the beginning of a story far older and darker than either could imagine. The delicate dance of enemies and lovers had begun. And the world would never be the same. The morning sun filtered through the dense canopy of the Wildlands as Eira prepared to leave her sanctuary. Her heart pounded—not just from the weight of the curse, but from the uncertainty ahead. Every step she took toward Eldrath was a step deeper into danger… and into Kael’s world. Thorne appeared silently at her side, eyes wary. “You really think you can face him?” Eira met his gaze, determination hardening her features. “I have to. This bond is more than a curse—it’s a choice we haven’t made yet.” He frowned, gripping the hilt of his dagger. “Choices don’t come easy for witches or princes. Especially when the past bleeds into the present.” She nodded, feeling the truth of his words. “Then we’ll make our own destiny. Even if it’s forged in fire.” Meanwhile, within Eldrath’s stone walls, Kael gathered a small group of trusted allies. Among them was Lysandra, the castle’s master of lore—a woman whose knowledge of magic rivaled even the Seer’s. “You must understand,” Lysandra warned, unfurling ancient scrolls, “the bond you share is powerful. It can heal or destroy. But it’s tethered to the oldest magic—one that doesn’t bend to human will.” Kael studied the symbols, feeling the weight of centuries pressing down on him. “Then we have no time to waste.” Lysandra’s eyes flickered with urgency. “There’s a way to strengthen the bond—transform it from curse to blessing. But it will require trust… and sacrifice.” As night fell over the land, two hearts bound by fate prepared to face the impossible. The question was no longer whether they could break the curse— but whether their love could survive it. The first step toward a new beginning was about to be taken. The moon hung low over Eldrath, casting long shadows that stretched like fingers across the castle walls. Inside the great hall, whispers filled the air — whispers of the prince’s strange affliction, of magic old and dark, and of the witch who held his fate in her hands. Kael stood at the window, staring out into the night, the faint glow of the crescent mark beneath his skin pulsing steadily. The weight of the bond pressed on him, heavier than any armor he had ever worn. A soft knock broke his reverie. Lysandra stepped inside, her eyes serious but kind. “It’s time,” she said quietly. “To face what lies ahead — together.” Kael nodded. “I’m ready.” Far in the Wildlands, Eira gathered what little she could carry — a few herbs, a worn cloak, and the charm that pulsed with the heartbeat of the curse. Thorne stood by the edge of the trees, his expression unreadable. “Be careful. The world beyond is not kind to witches.” She met his gaze, steeling herself. “Nor to princes.” With one last breath, Eira stepped into the path that would lead her to Kael — and to a future neither had dared to imagine. As they moved toward each other, the air thickened with ancient magic and unspoken promises. The enemies who had once sought only destruction now found themselves bound by a thread stronger than hatred. A thread that whispered of love. And somewhere deep within the shadows, the curse smiled.