𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃

Transformation

Layza’s lips part slightly, but no sound follows. The silence between us feels heavy, almost electric, as though the universe itself is holding its breath.

“You’re not your father,” I say, my voice firm and unyielding.

"I'm not my father," he repeats after me in a soft voice.
...

Hearing him repeat them, a rare flicker of pride warms my chest. This—this is the kind of transformation I once dreamed of sparking in Wilde. But we all know how that ended.

Dinner is a quiet, peaceful affair, though the unspoken words linger in the air. I toy with the idea of bringing up Ulso again, but before I can, he beats me to it. “You should stay here,” he says abruptly.

I blink, startled. Is this really the same man who had me running ragged as a kitten to uncover his cryptic hideout and nurse his plant-mother back to health?

My surprise must show because he shifts uncomfortably, turning his head away to avoid my gaze. “It’s safer for you here,” he mutters defensively. “Ulso can’t track you as long as you stay.”

The corners of my lips twitch with the urge to tease him. I’ve never been this isolated before—cut off from the world, stuck with just one person for company. And, if I’m being honest, boredom is starting to set in.

I step closer, each movement slow and deliberate, watching with satisfaction as he shifts uncomfortably under my gaze. Is it unease, or something more? Is he finally getting used to my presence? Maybe he’s even dreading the idea of me leaving.

“Layza,” I murmur, my voice sliding into the seductive, honeyed tone I’d spent years perfecting in front of a mirror back in my original world. “Are you starting to like me? Hmm?”

I place my hand against the vine-covered wall behind him, boxing him in with no room to retreat. His back presses against the wall, and I lean in, letting my breath skim across his face.

His reaction is almost endearing. His cheeks flare crimson, his eyes dart anywhere but at mine, but he doesn’t push me away. Intriguing.

His lips part, perhaps to stammer out a denial, but I silence him with a single finger pressed lightly against his mouth. That’s when it hits me again—the pulsing, tangled energy coursing beneath his skin. It thrums against my senses, dark and chaotic, a web of power unmistakably tied to the curse that binds him.

I can only assume this newfound awareness comes from the healer abilities I’ve inherited, a gift—or burden—that lets me perceive the afflictions tormenting others. But his curse feels different. It isn’t the sharp, searing agony I experienced with the plant earlier. This is something deeper, something insidious, woven into his very being.

At least now, I know he wasn’t lying about the curse.

I close my eyes and let my energy flow into him, probing the unseen binds that wrap around his soul. But then, something snaps. A crushing force tightens around my throat, cutting off my breath as the world tilts violently.

I collapse, gasping, my vision darkening. Layza’s panicked face swims into view, his worried ans confused eyes locked on mine. But his voice is drowned out by another sound—high-pitched, eerie, and dripping with venom.

“You shall not repeat the sins of your father, or the cost will be your soul.”

And then, nothing.