The wedding was over.
But there had been no kiss.
No toast. No cake. No promises of forever.
Just blood, ash, and silence.
Zina stood alone in her new bedroom—if it could even be called that. It was massive. Too massive. The chandelier above looked like it belonged in a vampire movie, and the velvet curtains swallowed light whole.
The only splash of color came from the deep red bedsheets.
Blood red.
Of course.
She ran her fingers across the smooth surface of the vanity table, avoiding the mirror. One of the rules echoed in her head:
Do not touch any mirror in the estate.
The mirror didn't look magical. It looked ordinary.
But it was covered—draped in black cloth like it was mourning something.
Or someone.
👣 Later That Night…
She couldn't sleep. The bed was too soft. The air too still.
Somewhere deep in the mansion, she heard it: footsteps. Not heavy. Not human.
She followed the sound, robe wrapped tight around her.
Past the guest rooms.
Past the spiral staircase.
Past the east wing—where she absolutely wasn't supposed to be after 3 a.m.
She wasn't trying to break rules.
She just… wanted to know who she'd become.
That's when she saw it.
At the end of the hall.
An old, iron door—tall, narrow, covered in carvings and chained shut.
And painted in bold letters above it:
DO NOT OPEN.
The Black Door.
She stepped closer. Something pulled at her. Like gravity. Like memory.
She could hear faint whispers coming from the other side—too soft to understand, but enough to make her skin crawl.
"Zina…"
She froze.
She hadn't imagined it. That was her name.
Her hand reached out before she realized it. Hovered near the chain.
She stopped herself just in time.
But not before something on the other side scratched back.
She jumped.
The air behind her shifted.
And a voice—cold, amused—slid into the hallway.
"You were warned."
She turned.
Kain stood there, shirtless, barefoot, eyes glowing like coals in the dark.
"I wasn't going to open it," she said quickly.
He didn't reply right away.
He walked past her. Placed one hand on the door. Whispered something in a language she couldn't understand—and the chains tightened themselves, like metal snakes recoiling.
When he turned back, his face was unreadable.
"Do not come near this door again," he said. "That is not a rule. That is a survival tip."
🖤 Back in the Bedroom
Zina lay in bed, unable to close her eyes.
Something was changing.
Not just around her.
Inside her.
The sigil on her palm burned faintly now, like an ember that refused to go out.
And as she finally drifted off to sleep, she heard it again—faint, from deep within the walls.
A woman's voice.
"Run while you still can."