Arianna stood in the center of the lavish chamber, her pulse pounding against her ribs. The door had shut behind her with a resounding thud, sealing her in.
She was alone.
Or was she?
The walls hummed with unseen magic, the black silk curtains rippling as if something unseen had brushed against them. The obsidian floor was cool beneath her feet, a stark contrast to the flickering golden candlelight illuminating the room.
Everything about this place was beautiful. But it was still a prison.
Arianna's fingers curled into fists. She wouldn't just accept this.
She wouldn't become another lost soul in Damien's kingdom.
She spun on her heel and marched toward the door. Without hesitation, she grasped the cold iron handle and pulled.
It didn't budge.
Arianna inhaled sharply and yanked harder.
Nothing.
Her stomach twisted.
Locked.
She ran her hands over the surface, searching for a latch, a weak point—anything.
But it wasn't locked in a conventional sense.
It was sealed.
The magic in the air thrummed against her palms, sending shivers up her arms. This wasn't a door she could break down with force.
Her throat tightened.
She turned away, forcing herself to breathe. Think. Think.
Her gaze darted to the rest of the room. There had to be another way out.
Her eyes landed on the heavy curtains draping over the far wall. A window.
A spark of hope ignited in her chest.
She rushed forward, grabbing the thick fabric and yanking it aside—
Only to feel her stomach drop.
It wasn't a window.
It was a mirror.
A massive, floor-to-ceiling mirror, its silver surface reflecting the candlelit room behind her.
Arianna's breath hitched.
The air in the room shifted.
Her own reflection stared back at her—wide-eyed, tense, chest rising and falling in rapid succession. But something was wrong.
Her pulse thundered as she took a step closer.
The reflection was lagging behind.
Her stomach twisted into knots.
She moved her hand to the side—
The reflection followed, but a second too late.
Arianna's blood ran cold.
That's not me.
A flicker of movement.
Her reflection smirked.
Arianna gasped and stumbled back.
The glass rippled.
The other Arianna tilted her head, eyes gleaming with something dark and unnatural.
"Fascinating," the reflection purred.
Arianna's breath turned shallow. "What…?"
The reflection stepped forward, placing a hand on the inside of the mirror.
Arianna stiffened.
The glass should have stopped her.
It didn't.
Her hand pushed through.
Arianna choked back a scream as the reflection reached for her.
She lunged back just as cold fingers brushed against her wrist. The mirror shattered into rippling waves, distorting the reflection.
The thing inside the glass let out a sharp, mocking laugh before vanishing into darkness.
The mirror stilled.
Arianna stood there, chest heaving.
The room was silent again.
The mirror reflected nothing but her pale, trembling form.
She exhaled shakily, stepping away.
What was that?
Was it the magic in the castle? A trick of the Underworld? Or something worse?
Her pulse still hammering, she backed away from the cursed mirror, keeping her eyes on it as she slowly turned toward the bed.
The moment she did, she froze.
Damien stood at the door.
Watching her.
Her breath caught.
His silver eyes gleamed in the candlelight, his lips curved into the barest hint of a smirk. But there was something off about him.
Something sharper. Darker.
His voice was too soft when he finally spoke.
"Did you see it?"
Arianna's heart pounded. He knows.
She forced herself to stand tall. "See what?"
His smirk widened slightly. "Lying doesn't suit you."
Arianna's stomach clenched.
Damien stepped into the room, his presence suffocating. "The mirror isn't just for decoration, little wife."
Arianna's throat tightened. "Then what is it?"
His silver eyes gleamed. "A warning."
She swallowed hard.
"A warning of what?"
Damien took another slow, deliberate step forward.
Arianna refused to retreat.
He watched her carefully, as if debating whether to tell her the truth. Then, finally, he exhaled.
"This castle was not built for mortals."
Arianna's skin prickled.
She knew that already. She felt it.
Damien's expression darkened. "You are bound to me, but that does not mean the Underworld will accept you."
Her breath hitched.
"The walls shift," he continued, his voice softer now. "The shadows whisper. And the mirror…" He glanced toward it briefly before locking eyes with her again. "The mirror watches."
Arianna's fingers twitched. "That wasn't just a reflection."
Damien tilted his head. "No."
The admission sent ice through her veins.
Arianna exhaled sharply. "Then what the hell was it?"
His smirk faded slightly. "The castle remembers."
A shiver ran down her spine.
He didn't need to elaborate. She understood.
This place had seen centuries of rulers, of bloodshed, of lost queens.
The mirror was more than just glass.
It was alive.
Arianna clenched her fists. "Why show me this now?"
Damien studied her for a moment before speaking.
"Because I want you to understand, little wife." His voice was a whisper, curling around her like smoke.
"You are not just mine."
Arianna's breath caught.
The castle had claimed her too.
She had stepped into its domain, into Damien's kingdom of darkness—
And now, it was watching.
Waiting.
To see if she would break.
Arianna swallowed the fear clawing up her throat.
She would not break.
Not for the castle.
Not for Damien.
Not for anyone.
Her voice was steady when she spoke.
"I am not afraid of you."
Damien's silver eyes flashed.
Something flickered in them—something unreadable.
And then, slowly, he smirked.
"Good."
But Arianna knew the truth.
This was only the beginning.
And the Underworld was just getting started.