A Curse Love: Bound by Shadow

Chapter 3: Unexplained Bond

Days passed, and my life in Blackwood took on an uneasy rhythm, like a song played slightly out of tune. Every morning, I’d wake with a gnawing sense of anticipation, a feeling I couldn’t quite name but knew was somehow tied to him. The longer I stayed in Blackwood, the more I found myself tangled in Luca’s presence, even when he wasn’t physically there. It was as if he’d left traces of himself in the shadows, an unspoken promise lingering in the air around me.

Everywhere I went, I felt him watching. Sometimes it was nothing more than a shadow moving in the corner of my eye or a brief glimpse of his figure slipping around a corner. Other times, I would catch him staring at me openly, his gaze intense and full of that dark, smoldering energy that unsettled me to my core. And yet, even though every instinct told me to pull back, I felt the pull toward him getting stronger with each passing day.

I couldn’t explain it to myself, let alone anyone else. Not that I would try—Jared had already given me his warnings about Luca, and Evelyn, in her strange, knowing way, seemed to imply that he was part of Blackwood’s many secrets. Part of me wanted to heed those warnings, to turn away before I got dragged into something I couldn’t escape. But another part, a part I didn’t want to acknowledge, was drawn to him in a way that felt inevitable, like gravity pulling me toward a center I couldn’t see.

---

One afternoon, I stayed late at the library, hoping that maybe a little extra work would clear my head. I was filing old newspapers in the back room when I felt it—the prickle of awareness, like someone was standing just behind me. I turned, expecting to see Evelyn or one of the rare visitors to the library, but there was no one there. Just the dim light filtering through the dusty windows, casting strange, elongated shadows on the walls.

I exhaled, forcing myself to brush off the feeling, but as I turned back to my work, I felt a flicker of something else—a vision, sharper and clearer than the dreams that had been haunting me. I was in a hallway, the walls damp and covered in peeling paint, the air thick with an oppressive, almost suffocating darkness. There was pain, deep and searing, as if every cell in my body was screaming. And through it all, there was a figure standing at the end of the hall, watching me with eyes filled with sorrow and rage.

I gasped, stumbling back, the vision fading as quickly as it had come. I pressed a hand to my chest, trying to steady my breathing. The ache of that moment lingered, like a phantom pain, and I knew, somehow, that it hadn’t been just a dream. It felt real, like a memory clawing its way to the surface. But it wasn’t my memory.

It was Luca’s.

---

I found myself wandering through Blackwood that evening, hoping the brisk air would clear my head. My mind felt frayed, worn thin by the constant stream of emotions and visions that seemed to assault me whenever Luca was near. I needed answers, or at least some kind of closure. And somehow, I knew I’d find them with him.

As if drawn by some invisible thread, I ended up in the town square, and there he was, leaning against the stone fountain, his face half-hidden in the shadows. His eyes flicked up as I approached, and a brief flash of surprise crossed his face before he masked it with that familiar, guarded expression.

“Amelia,” he said, his voice low, almost a warning.

I crossed the square, my footsteps echoing in the quiet. “I need to talk to you,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady despite the nervous flutter in my stomach. “I need to know what’s happening between us.”

He shook his head, his gaze hardening. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Don’t lie to me,” I snapped, my frustration bubbling over. “I know you feel it too. Every time I see you, every time I dream…” I trailed off, my cheeks heating at the memory of the dream I’d had the night before—of his mouth brushing mine, of the electric surge that had left me breathless. “I know this isn’t just some… coincidence.”

His jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “You’re getting too close, Amelia. This isn’t your fight.”

“Then make it make sense,” I whispered, my voice softening. “Because right now, I feel like I’m losing my mind. I see things, Luca. Things I shouldn’t see—visions, memories. And when I’m near you, I feel… everything. Your anger, your pain…” My voice broke, and I forced myself to meet his gaze. “Your desire.”

For a moment, he looked at me with such intensity that I thought he might finally tell me the truth. But instead, he took a step back, his face twisting in frustration. “You don’t understand what you’re asking for,” he muttered, running a hand through his dark hair. “You have no idea what this connection could mean for you.”

“Then explain it to me,” I challenged, stepping forward until I was close enough to feel the heat radiating off him. “Because I can’t keep pretending this isn’t real. I’m not just imagining this, am I?”

He exhaled sharply, and I saw a flicker of something raw, almost vulnerable, in his eyes. “No,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re not imagining it. But that doesn’t mean you should want it.”

The words should have scared me, should have sent me running in the opposite direction. But instead, they only fueled the fire that had been smoldering between us, the magnetic pull that seemed to bind us together despite his warnings.

I reached out, my fingers brushing his arm, and as soon as I made contact, a wave of emotion surged through me. Anger, despair, longing—all of it crashing over me in a torrent that left me breathless. It was like standing in the middle of a storm, feeling every bolt of lightning, every gust of wind, as if it was my own.

“Luca,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “Why are you so afraid to let me in?”

His gaze softened, and for a moment, he looked at me with such raw intensity that it felt like he was peeling back every layer, seeing straight into my soul. “Because I’ve seen what happens when people get too close,” he murmured, his voice laced with regret. “I’ve seen the damage I can do.”

I shook my head, refusing to back down. “I’m not afraid of you.”

“You should be,” he replied, his voice dark, almost pleading.

But I couldn’t pull back now, not when I was finally this close to understanding him. Without thinking, I reached up, my hand brushing against his cheek, and I felt him shiver under my touch. For a moment, the mask he wore slipped, and I saw the vulnerability he kept hidden beneath all that anger and distance.

“Amelia…” he murmured, his voice thick with something I couldn’t quite name.

“Show me,” I whispered, my fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “Stop hiding.”

For a moment, I thought he might push me away, might walk off and leave me with nothing but more questions. But then, as if some invisible wall between us had finally shattered, he leaned down, his lips brushing mine in the faintest, most tantalizing way. The touch was electric, sending a shock of heat through my veins, a pull so strong it was almost dizzying. I felt my breath hitch, my heart pounding as I pressed closer, my fingers tangling in the fabric of his shirt.

His mouth moved against mine, soft yet rough, a desperate, hungry edge that matched the storm building between us. I could feel everything—the sorrow, the longing, the fierce protectiveness he’d tried so hard to hide. It was all there, raw and unfiltered, pouring into me like a torrent I couldn’t control.

But just as quickly as it started, he pulled back, his breathing ragged, his expression a mixture of frustration and sorrow.

“We can’t,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I can’t let you in, Amelia.”

I reached for him, my hand brushing his arm, but he stepped back, his gaze full of a sorrow so deep it made my chest ache. “Stay away from me,” he said softly, his voice full of regret. “For your own good.”

I opened my mouth to argue, to tell him I didn’t care about the risks, that I wanted—no, needed—to understand this connection between us. But before I could say anything, he turned and disappeared into the shadows, leaving me alone, breathless, and aching for answers I knew he wasn’t ready to give.

---

I stood there for a long time, staring at the empty spot where he’d been, the memory of his kiss still burning on my lips. The weight of his words pressed down on me, his warning ringing in my ears. Every logical part of me knew he was right, knew that whatever darkness haunted him could only bring me pain.

But logic had no place in this. The connection between us was something deeper, something I couldn’t ignore even if I wanted to. And as I walked home that night, my mind racing, my heart pounding