The glow from Magdalene’s wrist pulsed like a heartbeat—hot, ancient, dangerous.
Maddox stared at it as though seeing her for the first time. Not the elegant, confident Selene Noir. But something… other.
The silence between them stretched taut, straining under the weight of secrets unspoken.
“What is that?” he asked, his voice low, reverent—and laced with something sharp.
Magdalene didn’t answer at once. Her breath was caught in her throat, tangled in the hundreds of ways this could go wrong.
“I said…” he took a step closer, his bare feet crushing charred leaves. “What is that mark on your wrist?”
“A curse,” she said. A partial truth. Safer than the whole one.
His golden eyes narrowed. “That’s not just any curse. That’s prophecy-bound magic. I’ve only seen that glow once before—in m
