Elena's POV
We ran.
Adrian pulled me through dark streets, down alleys I didn't know existed, his hand burning where it touched mine. Every point of contact felt like fire and ice mixed together—the curse warning us, hurting us, trying to force us apart.
But Adrian didn't let go.
"Who are they?" I gasped, my lungs screaming.
"The Society of Eternal Night." Adrian's voice was tight with pain and fear. "Immortals who've twisted their curses into weapons. They want my immortality because it's the oldest, the strongest. If they get it, they'll be unstoppable."
Behind us, footsteps echoed. Fast. Getting closer.
"They're not human," Adrian said. "Not anymore. They can't be killed, can't be stopped. The only thing we can do is hide."
"Where?"
"Somewhere old. Somewhere with enough history that I can use the magic embedded in the stones." He yanked me left, into a narrow passage between buildings. "The catacombs. They won't follow us underground—too many dead. It messes with their power."
We burst through a rusted gate I didn't even see until we were through it. Stone steps spiraled down into darkness.
"I can't see!" I stumbled.
Adrian caught me, his arms around my waist. We both cried out—the curse's pain was worse with more contact—but he held me steady anyway.
"Trust me," he whispered against my hair. "I've walked these tunnels for 200 years. I know every turn."
We plunged into the dark.
The temperature dropped. The smell of old stone and older death filled my nose. Adrian moved with impossible confidence, pulling me through twists and turns I couldn't see.
Behind us, the footsteps stopped at the entrance. A voice called down—cold and ancient:
"Adrian Thorne! You can't hide forever. We'll find the girl. We'll make her break your curse and give it to us. Fighting only makes it worse for her."
Adrian's hand tightened on mine. The pain was unbearable but neither of us let go.
We kept running until the voices faded. Until we were so deep underground I felt like we'd left the world entirely.
Finally, Adrian stopped. His hands released mine and the relief from the pain was almost as shocking as the pain itself.
"We're safe," he breathed. "For now."
I collapsed against a wall, my whole body shaking. "What just happened? Who were those people? How did they find us?"
"I don't know." Adrian's voice was rough. "I've been hiding from them for decades. Moving every few years. Using different names. I thought I'd finally lost them."
"The text message," I remembered. "Someone warned us. Who?"
"I don't know that either." He slid down the wall next to me—close but not touching. "Someone who knows about the Society. Someone who's watching us."
"Is that supposed to be comforting?"
Despite everything, he laughed. "No. No, it's not."
We sat in the dark silence for a moment. I couldn't see him, but I could feel his presence next to me. Solid. Real. Ancient.
"Your hand," I said quietly. "When you touched me, it hurt you. Really hurt you."
"The curse's warning," Adrian confirmed. "Physical contact with someone I could love causes pain. It's worse the stronger my feelings are."
"So holding my hand—"
"Was agony." His voice was soft. "But watching those immortals chase you would have been worse."
My chest tightened. "You barely know me."
"I know enough." I heard him shift in the darkness. "I know you wrote back to a letter from a stranger. I know you risked everything to meet me. I know you offered to break a curse that could kill you. That's enough to—" He stopped.
"Enough to what?"
"Enough to make me care," he finished quietly.
The words hung in the dark between us.
"We can't do this," I whispered. "The curse—"
"I know."
"If you love me, I die."
"I know."
"So we have to stop. Right now. Before it goes any further."
Silence.
Then Adrian's voice came through the dark, broken and honest: "What if I told you it's already too far? What if I told you I started falling the moment I read your first letter?"
My breath caught. "Adrian—"
"I spent 847 years alone, Elena. Writing letters no one would ever read. And then you wrote back. You saw me when I'd been invisible for centuries. How am I supposed to not love you for that?"
Tears slid down my face. "You have to. Because I can't—I won't be another person you lose. I won't be another name on your list of people the curse killed."
"Then we break it," Adrian said fiercely. "We break the curse before it kills you."
"How? Margot said it requires a Moreau descendant to sacrifice herself. That means I have to die to save you."
"Then we find another way." His hand found mine in the dark—we both gasped at the pain—but he held on anyway. "There's always another way. I've had 847 years to think about this curse. There has to be something we're missing."
"Like what?"
"I don't know yet. But—"
A phone rang. Adrian's phone.
He let go of my hand and answered. "Théo? How did you—yes, we're safe. The catacombs. No, they didn't follow us. But Théo, the Society is here. In Paris. They know about Elena."
He listened for a moment, his breathing getting faster.
"What?" His voice went cold. "Are you sure?"
More listening.
"We're coming. Give us twenty minutes." He hung up.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"That was my lawyer. My only friend in this world." Adrian's voice shook. "He's been researching your family's history. Elena, he found something in your grandmother's journals. Something about the curse that changes everything."
"What?"
"The curse can be broken without death. But only if we do it within one lunar cycle of the cursed person falling in love."
My heart stopped. "One month?"
"Twenty-eight days," Adrian confirmed. "And Elena, I fell in love with you three weeks ago. When I read your first letter."
The math crashed into me like a wave. "That means we have one week."
"Seven days," Adrian said. "Seven days to break an 847-year-old curse or you die."
I couldn't breathe. One week. Seven days.
"There's more," Adrian said quietly. "Théo found records of the original curse. Elena, it wasn't just Isabeau's mother who cast it. It took multiple Moreau witches. Your grandmother was there."
The world tilted. "What?"
"Your grandmother helped curse me. She was twelve years old at the time—a child witch forced to participate by her mother. She's lived her whole life knowing what they did. Knowing I was suffering."
Rage and shock warred in my chest. "She knew? All this time, she knew?"
"Yes. And according to Théo's research, she's the only one alive who knows exactly how the curse was cast. Which means—"
"She's the only one who knows how to break it," I finished.
"We have to talk to her," Adrian said. "Tonight. Before the Society finds her first. Because if they get to her before we do—"
His phone rang again. Different number this time.
Adrian answered, went completely still, then handed the phone to me without a word.
"Hello?" I said.
Grandmother Simone's cold voice came through: "Elena. I know you're with Adrian Thorne. I know what you're trying to do. And I'm telling you right now—stop."
"You knew," I said, my voice shaking. "You helped curse him. You've known all these years—"
"I did what I had to do to protect our family," she interrupted. "That curse was necessary. And I won't let you break it."
"Why not?"
"Because breaking it will kill you. And despite everything, you're still my granddaughter. I won't watch another Moreau woman die for that man."
"Then help us find another way—"
"There is no other way!" Her voice cracked. "I've spent sixty years searching. The curse is absolute. Either he stays immortal and alone, or you die to free him. Those are the only options."
"I don't believe you," I said.
"Then you're a fool." Grandmother's voice went cold again. "Listen to me very carefully, Elena. In three days, the Society will perform a ritual. They're going to force you to transfer Adrian's curse to one of them. It will rip you apart from the inside. You'll die screaming."
My blood turned to ice. "How do you know this?"
Silence.
Then: "Because they called me an hour ago. They're coming to the estate tomorrow. And they told me if I don't give them you and Adrian, they'll kill Céleste instead."
"What?" I gasped.
"Your sister is in danger because of your foolishness," Grandmother said. "The Society has people watching the estate. They'll kill her in three days if I don't cooperate. So you have a choice, Elena. Come to me. Let me help you hide from the Society and accept that Adrian must stay cursed. Or refuse, and your sister dies."
"You can't ask me to—"
"I can and I am." Her voice was steel. "You have until noon tomorrow. Come to the estate alone. Leave Adrian behind. Or Céleste's blood is on your hands."
She hung up.
I stared at the phone, my whole world collapsing.
Adrian took the phone gently. "What did she say?"
"They're going to kill Céleste if I don't turn myself in," I whispered. "I have until tomorrow at noon."
"It's a trap," Adrian said immediately. "Your grandmother is working with them—"
"Or she's trying to save her granddaughter." I looked at where I thought Adrian's face was in the dark. "What if she's telling the truth? What if staying with you gets Céleste killed?"
"Céleste betrayed you. She tried to destroy you."
"She's still my sister."
Adrian was quiet for a long moment. Then: "What do you want to do?"
I thought about Céleste's cruel smile. Her vicious words. The way she'd stolen everything from me.
But I also remembered us as children, before jealousy twisted her. Remembered her holding my hand at our parents' funeral. Remembered loving her once.
"I can't let her die," I said. "Even after everything, I can't."
"Then we go together," Adrian said firmly. "We face whatever's coming together."
"If it's a trap—"
"Then we spring it together." His hand found mine again—the pain was worse now, the curse getting stronger—but he held on. "I've been alone for 847 years, Elena. I'm not losing you after seven days."
My phone buzzed. Another text from the unknown number:
Don't go to the estate. It's a trap. Your grandmother is working with the Society. Céleste is already dead. They killed her an hour ago. I'm sorry. —A Friend
The phone slipped from my numb fingers.
"No," I whispered. "No, that can't be true."
Adrian picked up the phone, read the message. His face went grey.
"We need to confirm this," he said. "We need to—"
A new text appeared. This one with a photo attached.
I didn't want to look. Didn't want to see.
But Adrian turned the phone screen toward me anyway.
And there was Céleste, lying on cold stone floor, her eyes open and empty, blood pooling beneath her.
My sister was dead.
And somehow, I knew this was only the beginning.