The Cursed Prince’s Bride

Lily stepped into the dimly lit chamber, her heart pounding in her chest, the scent of blood and rum thick in the air. The fire in the hearth crackled low, casting shadows across the stone walls, and there he was—standing near the window, his broad naked back turned to her, the light catching the curve of his bare shoulders. Blood streaked down his arms, dripping from his knuckles as if he had fought a savage animal and won. A half-empty bottle of rum dangled from his fingers, and he took a slow, deliberate swig before finally acknowledging her presence as he turned on his heels.

Her eyes swept over him, taking in the way his muscles tensed beneath his skin.

"Lily," he said, his voice rough, the sound of it carrying across the room."Do you desire a drink?"

She hesitated, her mouth dry. She was here for a purpose—she couldn't afford to be distracted. But something in the way he stood, in the quietness of his posture, made her pause. She nodded, slowly. "Yes."

He gestured lazily to the table where a second bottle sat, unopened. "Help yourself."

As she crossed the room, her gaze lingered on the fresh blood staining his hand, glistening in the low light. She grabbed the bottle but didn't drink, her mind racing. Instead, she spoke, her voice carefully measured. "What happened to your hand, my Lord?"

He didn't answer right away. Instead, he took another long drink, his eyes lost in the distance beyond the window. Finally, he turned to face her, his expression, unreadable. "That's not your concern, Lily," he said, his voice low, dangerous. "My matters aren't yours."

She swallowed hard, unsure if he was telling her to back off or if he was trying to protect her from whatever hell he had just crawled out of. But she wasn't here to dance around his moods. She had a mission, and her resolve hadn't wavered.

She was here to kill him.

"Then why did you call for me?" she asked, her voice steady.

Kaden's eyes flickered over her, the sharpness in them softening, just a little. He leaned against the window ledge, tipping the bottle of rum once more before setting it aside. "I want to take a bath," he said slowly, as if testing the words. "A-And I want you in it."

Lily's pulse quickened at the boldness of his request. He was raw and open, though his words were not commanding. She knew this was her chance—her one moment to end the beast of a man who had taken so many lives. But she also knew how dangerous he was, how easily he could destroy her if she wasn't careful.

Her hand clenched around the neck of the rum bottle, her mind racing. She had trained for this moment, rehearsed every detail. Yet now, as she stood before him, something inside her faltered. She couldn't afford that hesitation. She had to finish this.

Without a word, Kaden stepped into the clear spring, the cool water swirling around his legs as he sank deeper with his eyes locked on Lily. She followed him to the edge, slowly unbuttoning her cloak while keeping her gaze on him. The dagger hidden beneath the fabric slipped from her fingers and sank into the water with a soft splash. She knew she had to find another way to kill him. As she started to remove her clothing, the soft fabric pooling around her feet, he turned to her and said, "There's no need for that."

She should have seen the moment as tactical, calculated, but instead, there was something else there. The way he looked at her—it wasn't with the hunger she had expected. It was something quieter. Something more dangerous in its restraint. He wasn't just looking at her; he was drinking her in, as if seeing her for the first time. His jaw tightened, and his hand—still bloodied—flexed at his side.

"You..." he whispered, almost to himself. "Fate has woven your path to mine, didn't it?"

Lily's breath caught. She hadn't expected those words, not from him, not now. But he continued with his voice, even softer. He took a slow step toward her, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Of all the people in this land," he said, "Fate chose you." His hand hovered just above her skin, fingers twitching as if he were afraid to close the distance between them. "Every other woman withers beneath my hands. But not you."

She stood frozen, her pulse racing, her mind screaming at her to strike, to end this now before it was too late. But something in his gaze held her captive. He was speaking of fate, of destiny, but his words were raw, personal. They weren't just about her—they were about him. His curse. His longing which she did not want to understand.

"I walk, cursed by my own hands," he murmured, his eyes tracing the line of her neck, her collarbone, as if memorizing every inch of her. "But you... you defy it. I don't understand how or why, but here you are. You... you stand before me, whole. Untouched by the darkness that follows me."

Lily's mind raced. She could feel her resolve slipping, her purpose blurring as his words sank in. But she couldn't forget what she had come here to do. She shouldn't forget the reason she had entered his chambers in the first place.

"I shouldn't be able to touch you," he whispered, his fingers finally brushing her arm, light as a feather, hesitant. "You make the darkness seem less suffocating, as if you are the light that cuts through my despair. It's like fate brought you to me for a reason, to free me from my chains, even if just for this moment."

His hand moved to her cheek, his thumb brushing her lower lip, and for the first time, Lily felt herself tremble. He leaned closer, his breath ghosting over her skin, and his voice dropped to a whisper.

"You….are my salvation," he whispered, his voice shaky. "Or maybe my destruction, but right now, I don't care. I just want to be lost… in you."

He couldn't resist any longer. The pull, the need—it was too much, too fierce. He leaned forward, closing the distance between them, his lips brushing hers in a kiss that was soft at first, tentative, as though he was testing the waters of this impossible moment. Then the kiss deepened, and he lost himself in her, in the feel of her lips, in the warmth of her body pressing against his.

It felt like surrender. Like a final, irreversible step into the unknown.

Kaden's hands, bloodied and rough, gently cradled her face as if she were something precious, something he had never allowed himself to want.

Lily's lips pressed against his, but something inside her shifted—something cold, buried deep beneath the surface. She could feel the power she held in this moment.

He kissed her again, harder this time, as if starved for something only she could give. His hands gripped her waist, firm and possessive, and then, without warning, he hoisted her up, his strength overwhelming, yet careful not to hurt her. Lily's legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, and she found herself pressed against him, their bodies entwined as the kiss deepened into something desperate, something feral.

He kissed her like a man drowning, as though she were the air he needed to breathe. His hands roamed her back, her sides, pulling her closer, and for a moment, she felt the raw intensity of his desire.

But as their lips moved together, as his heart pounded against hers, Lily's mind sharpened. She felt the cold truth surge up inside her once more—the truth she had carried into his chambers like a blade. This man—this cursed, broken creature—had taken everything from her. Her family, her home, Everything. And now, in the midst of his vulnerability, she had the chance to end it all.

Her lips moved against his, and something in her hardened. She deepened the kiss, drawing him in even further, as if luring him closer to his own undoing. His grip tightened, and he groaned against her mouth, his body trembling with need. But she was no longer kissing him out of desire. This was something else. Something darker.

With a calculated ease, she began to twist the moment, her hand slipping lower, down his chest, fingers grazing the place where his heart beat so furiously beneath his skin. She could feel it—his life, his essence, the thing she had come to destroy.

He didn't notice. He was lost in her—his lips frantic, hungry. He pressed her harder against him, as if he could fuse them together, as if she were the last thing holding him.

As they kissed, Lily's eyes glowed bright blue, shining like jewels. The color changed inside her, but he was too caught up in the kiss to see it. He was lost in the moment, unaware of the fact that something had changed.

But for him, there was only her. The woman fate had chosen for him. The woman who, for reasons he couldn't understand, could touch him without dying. The woman who held his heart in her hands—and, in that moment, held his life.

And he let her.