ka'
, polished floor. No laughter echoed through the room. No bridesmaids fussed over me with makeup brushes and final
to be the happiest mom
felt like a
ey said the house was over two hundred years old, passed down through generations. But what sent a chill d
itya's mother, Mrs. Sekar Damar, wore a black lace dress with
eyes in those paintings seemed to follow me-as if judging whether I was worthy of carrying the Damar bl
ies and old furniture. The marble floor was dulled with age. Deep crimson curtains hung heavily
in a strange acciden
called i
t, I knew some
k suit embroidered with barely visible symbols-ancient glyphs re
brief. Hollow.
k
ged beyond wha
c. Just
chill surged up my arm. My fingers trembl
vo
his
but
not hu
toward the soun
ined still. Fac
rted me to a room on the upper floo
e felt like fallin
n frame etched with serpents and roses. In the corner, an old wardrobe loomed like a sea
ne like a warning. "Do not leave this room until he ar
h my instincts
-
cra
t at the edge of the bed, breath
llway. Heavy breath
an's sobs-soft, br
But the voice pre
too... Don't open the door...
, ready to flee. But be
robe cre
back. Inside hung another wedding dres
fell to the flo
I couldn't explain, and saw-
yes blackened and holl
at me...
nging the glass
hing v
The blood-gone. The r
lock struc
r creak
a stoo
't the man
skin was pale, like marble.
voice deep and echoing, like something
my legs wouldn't move. The
You should be. But you've been cho
I asked, bare
brushing my cheek w
an of the curse. Each generation must wed a pure soul under this roo
my cheeks. "So I'm j
pecial, Citra. You're st
broken mirror and
who you r
ith golden eyes and a strange birthmark on her ne
that?" I
woman, Citra. You come from a bloodline older than mine. That's why you can hear
with fear anymore-b
ever believed
ot just a
yourself... you must choose:
a blood-curdling scream
ned at
s when I
g was far
s... were no
d open down
teps
. Too
wasn't just
eginning of a war be