Kissed by a Curse

The room darkened, as if the very air had turned to smoke.

Killian stood protectively in front of Liora as the ancient scroll began to unravel itself midair, glowing symbols floating and twisting in a language neither of them recognized. The energy pulsed around them like a heartbeat, ancient and powerful.

Liora's breath caught. Her fingers trembled, but not with fear — with something older. Something deeper. Something alive inside her.

The old priest's voice trembled as he began to read the glowing script. "From the blood of the cursed, and the soul of the fallen… a fire shall awaken to cleanse the realm. Bound by love, torn by fate. Only together will they survive, or darkness shall rise anew."

Liora blinked, the words rippling through her veins like wildfire.

"Bound by love?" she whispered, her eyes flickering to Killian.

He didn't look away. His jaw was tense, his gaze unwavering. "It's us. The prophecy… it's about us."

Her heart beat so hard it nearly knocked her over. "How can it be? I don't even know who I am."

"You do now," Killian said quietly. "You've felt it. That pull. That power. The nightmares. The fire in your blood."

The scroll disintegrated into golden dust, the last of the symbols disappearing into the air. The room remained silent for a long moment, all of them too stunned to speak.

Then the ground rumbled.

A deep, earth-shaking growl echoed from below, rattling the floor. Liora stumbled, but Killian caught her instantly, holding her close as cracks formed across the marble tiles.

"Something has awakened," the priest said hoarsely. "You triggered it."

"I didn't mean to," Liora gasped. Her eyes shimmered with confusion. "I don't even know what I'm doing."

"It doesn't matter," Killian growled, pulling her toward the stairs. "We need to get out of here."

As they ran, fire erupted in the distance — real fire, not metaphorical. Through the old stained-glass windows, Liora saw flames licking up the sides of a far tower, and shadows moving within them. Not human shadows. Not at all.

"Killian!" she cried as the shadowy forms slithered through the smoke like living darkness.

"I see them!" He kicked the heavy chapel doors open with a snarl. "Run!"

They sprinted down the hill from the temple, wind howling around them, the sky turning an unnatural shade of crimson as if the heavens themselves were reacting to the broken seal.

"You said it was locked away," Liora shouted breathlessly. "The curse. The prophecy. All of it!"

"I thought it was!" Killian growled. "But you—Liora, you're the key. You broke it open."

"I didn't mean to!"

"Doesn't matter now!" he roared. "You've awakened it. We need to prepare."

"For what?"

He looked at her grimly. "For war."

---

They arrived at the southern castle by midnight. The place buzzed with guards, mages, and wolves on alert. Word had spread fast — the curse had broken, and the prophecy was no longer dormant.

Inside the war room, Liora sat beside Killian, her hands clenched tight in her lap as magical maps flickered with red zones, darkened lands, and places consumed by the spreading shadow.

Her chest ached. "What happens if we fail?"

Killian didn't answer immediately. He reached for her hand and gripped it tight, his warmth grounding her in a way no spell ever could.

"If we fail," he said slowly, "the realm will fall. The curse will consume everything — not just magic, but souls. It won't stop until everyone is like them."

"The shadows?"

"The cursed. The lost." He looked at her like she was his only anchor. "But we won't fail."

Liora looked up at him. "How can you be so sure?"

He leaned in, so close she could feel the heat of his breath. "Because I won't let you fall. I'll burn this entire kingdom before I let you be taken."

Her breath hitched. "Killian…"

He pulled her closer, their lips inches apart. "You're not alone in this. You never will be again."

The door burst open.

General Riven, covered in ash and blood, stormed in. "They're already at the eastern borders. We lost the outpost at Eldreth."

Killian stood immediately, his alpha presence filling the room like lightning. "Prepare the mages. Ready the warriors. Get the dragons out of the vault. No more holding back."

Riven nodded and disappeared.

Liora stared after him. "Dragons?"

Killian gave her a crooked smile. "We're going to need all the fire we can get."

---

Later that night, Liora stood alone in the royal gardens, her bare feet brushing against the soft moonlit grass. The stars were hidden, the sky thick with the curse's spreading fog. Yet the moon still shone — weak, but defiant.

She raised her hand.

Fire danced on her palm.

It didn't hurt anymore. The flame didn't scare her.

It listened.

A voice came from behind her. "You're learning fast."

She turned. Killian.

He stepped forward, eyes glowing under the moonlight. "You were born of this fire, Liora. It's not just magic. It's you."

"I'm not afraid anymore," she said quietly. "But I don't know if I'm ready."

Killian reached for her. "Then we'll be not-ready together. And we'll still win."

She leaned into him, resting her head against his chest. His heart beat strong and steady beneath her ear.

"I can feel the change," she whispered. "It's like… the fire's alive inside me. It's not burning me. It's waiting. Watching."

"It's part of the prophecy," he said. "The fire was never meant to destroy you. It was meant to be yours."

Liora tilted her face up to him. "And you?"

Killian smiled softly. "I was meant to protect it. Protect you."

And then, finally, their lips met — no longer a moment of fear or confusion, but of fierce, burning clarity.

She kissed him like the world was ending.

Because it just might be.

---

Far across the kingdom, in a tower lost to time, a woman in black robes laughed softly as she stared into the mirror of shadows.

"They think love will save them," she whispered. "How quaint."

She turned to the throne behind her. A figure sat slumped upon it, chained by magic and time. Its eyes flickered open — dull red, ancient and furious.

"It is time," she said, placing her hand over its chest. "Awaken, my king."

The creature grinned — its fangs long, face shadowed, and voice like ice.

"The fire child has returned."