Her Curse, Their Claim

uries, and the moment she stepped inside, the temperature dropped. It was as if the room were preserved in shadow and dust. Shelves stretched high into darkness. Lanterns floated midair, castin

n't know." "Then let me find out." He stepped closer again - too close - until she could see the faint vein in his throat, pulsing slowly beneath the surface. His hand brushed her arm, fingers tracing the mark, which flared beneath his touch. She gasped. "Stop," she whispered. "I-I don't know what this is-" "I do," he said, voice velvet and cold. "It's old magic. Buried deep. Calling to what we are." Seren closed her eyes, heart racing. Part of her wanted to run. The other part wanted to see what would happen if she stayed. He leaned in - not to kiss, but to breathe against her neck. "You smell like fire and fear and something I can't name," he murmured. "And I'm going to find out what you are, Seren. Even if it kills me." Just as his lips brushed her skin- "Lucien." A sharp voice echoed from the shadows. Both of them turned. A tall woman with platinum hair and golden eyes stepped into view. Her robes were crimson. Her gaze-lethal. "You know the Headmistress forbade feeding from new initiates." Lucien smiled, backing off slightly. "I wasn't feeding. I was... studying." "Keep studying, and she'll bind your fangs again." Lucien sighed. "Such a buzzkill, Aunt Elira." "Come with me. Now." He gave Seren one last smoldering look, eyes flicking down to her mark. "Next time," he whispered. "Don't run." Then he vanished with the woman, shadows curling behind him like a cloak. Seren stood alone in the aisle, heart still thudding. Why did she let him get that close? Why hadn't she pushed him away? And worse - why did she want him to come back? Her mark still pulsed. Not pain. Not fear. Need. As she left the library, a piece of parchment fluttered down from the rafters and landed at her feet. She picked it up slowly, hands trembling. One word burned across the page in crimson ink: MINE. Not signed. Not sealed. Just... claimed. Her skin prickled. The library, once quiet, now felt like it was watching her. She stuffed the note in her coat pocket and fled the east wing. Two nights later, she was back. The Academy's schedule was chaotic - classes on Spell Theory, Combat Ethics, Rituals & Runes - but no answers. No mention of her Mark. No clue why her presence made ancient magic wake up. She'd hoped to avoid Lucien. But of course, fate had other plans. She found him in the Blood Mirror Room, a hidden chamber she stumbled into while escaping a sentient staircase. Lucien stood before a wide oval mirror surrounded by red candles. His reflection... wasn't quite his. It flickered - showing different versions of him, dressed in outdated court attire, wearing crowns, swords, mourning bands. "You shouldn't be here," he sai