Claimed by My Beastly Husband

Chapter 12 – Forbidden Curiosity

Seraphina’s heartbeat drummed loud in her ears as she stepped into the forbidden corridor. The hall was darker than the rest of Kael’s estate—cold, silent, alive with secrets that whispered through the cracks of its walls.

She shouldn’t have been there. She knew that. Kael’s warning from the night before echoed in her mind: “There are doors in this house you will never open.”

And yet, curiosity had its claws deep in her.

The afternoon light had waned, painting the world in shades of gold and shadow. Kael had left for a meeting in the city, his absence giving Seraphina the courage—or recklessness—to explore. She needed to understand him. The man she had married still felt like a riddle wrapped in silence and steel.

Her footsteps fell softly against the marble as she moved deeper into the west wing. The air grew cooler, and a faint metallic scent drifted through the air. At the end of the corridor stood an old wooden door, different from the others—reinforced, locked, and scarred by time.

She ran her fingertips over its surface. What are you hiding, Kael?

Her eyes darted to the keyhole. There was no key, but the latch had worn edges. Perhaps—

She reached for a thin hairpin from her braid and knelt down. It took several careful turns and a trembling breath, but the lock gave way with a soft click.

The door creaked open, revealing a dimly lit chamber filled with dust and shadows.

Inside were stacks of old papers, books bound in dark leather, and a desk cluttered with maps marked in red. Strange symbols filled the margins. Against the wall hung portraits—men and women she didn’t recognize, their eyes painted with unnerving precision.

A sense of dread crept into her chest.

Then she saw it—a smaller picture on the desk. A woman. Her face was delicate, familiar. Seraphina’s heart stuttered. The woman looked like her.

Almost exactly like her.

Her breath caught. She reached for the frame, her fingers trembling as she turned it over. On the back, scrawled in Kael’s handwriting, was a single word.

Liora.

“Looking for something, wife?”

The deep voice froze her where she stood.

Seraphina spun around. Kael stood in the doorway, his dark suit still crisp from travel, his eyes sharp as blades. She hadn’t even heard him enter.

Her throat tightened. “You—you weren’t supposed to be back until evening.”

“I changed my mind.” His voice was low, controlled, but there was an undercurrent beneath it—danger, cold and deliberate. He stepped forward, closing the distance between them in slow, measured strides. “I see you did the same.”

Seraphina took an instinctive step back. “I was only—”

“Snooping?” he cut in. “Breaking into rooms I warned you about?”

“I just wanted to understand!” she burst out. “You hide so much from me—your past, this house, even yourself! I thought—”

“You thought curiosity was harmless?” His voice deepened, echoing in the small chamber. “In my world, curiosity gets people killed.”

Her heart hammered painfully. The picture frame shook in her hands. “Who is she, Kael?” she asked, her voice cracking. “This woman—she looks like me.”

Something flickered across his expression—pain, anger, memory—but it vanished before she could read it. He reached out and took the photo from her, setting it back on the desk with slow precision.

“You have no right to ask,” he said quietly. “There are truths in this house that will destroy you if you go looking for them.”

“Maybe I deserve to know what kind of man I’ve married!”

Kael’s eyes darkened. In one swift movement, he caught her wrist, pulling her closer. The warmth of his touch was a contradiction—possessive, yet careful, as though he fought to restrain himself.

“You are my wife,” he said in a low growl. “That is all you need to know.”

Seraphina’s breath came in shallow bursts. “That’s not enough.”

His jaw clenched. “It has to be.”

For a long moment, neither spoke. The tension between them was thick, electric. The only sound was the faint crackle of a dying candle.

Then, abruptly, Kael released her wrist. “Leave this room. And if you value your safety, never come back.”

Her lips parted in defiance, but something in his tone—the finality of it—held her still. She turned toward the door, every instinct screaming at her to run. But at the threshold, she looked back.

“Whatever you’re hiding, Kael,” she whispered, “it will come out eventually.”

He didn’t reply. His gaze followed her until she was gone, the sound of the door closing echoing through the hall.

Once alone, Kael exhaled slowly. His hands gripped the edge of the desk until his knuckles whitened. He looked down at the picture of Liora, the ghost of a woman who had once meant everything—and whose memory now haunted his marriage.

Seraphina’s resemblance to her wasn’t coincidence. It was a curse.

Outside, Seraphina pressed her back against the cold wall, her pulse still racing. She didn’t know what frightened her more—the anger she’d seen in Kael’s eyes, or the fleeting sadness that had followed it.

That night, as she lay awake, she replayed his words over and over. Never question me.

But it was already too late. Curiosity had taken root in her heart, and no amount of fear could smother it.