The night was heavy, pressing against the walls of Marco's chamber like a suffocating veil. He had resolved to meet Jeremy, to speak of the shadows that had begun to coil around him. But when he opened his door, the hallway was empty — save for a folded letter lying on the stone floor.
Marco bent down, his fingers trembling as he picked it up. The paper was stained, its edges frayed, the handwriting hurried. Jeremy's. His heart quickened, but before he could unfold it, footsteps echoed down the corridor.
The door creaked open.
The mother entered.
Her presence filled the room with a dark enigma, the air itself thickening as she moved closer. Marco slipped the letter into his pocket, his pulse hammering. She closed the door behind her, and the chamber seemed to shrink, the light dimming as though it feared her.
She approached the bed, her gown trailing across the floor, and sat Marco down beside her. Her silence was suffocating, her eyes gleaming with reluctant cruelty.
"You must not visit the hallway again," she said, her voice low, deliberate. Marco swallowed hard, guilt rising in his throat.
But then her tone shifted, darker still. "Since the wedding has already happened, it cannot be ignored. Tradition demands what comes next."
Marco's breath caught.
"We have decided," she continued, her hand reaching for his, cold and unyielding, "to arrange the Love Night. A night to exchange heat. It is our custom, our way of binding two souls together. There are only five days to go."
Her grip tightened. "You should follow the rules. Your fate is decided. It cannot be changed."
She rose slowly, her gown whispering against the floor, and left the room without another word. The door closed, and Marco was left in silence, the weight of her decree pressing against him like iron chains.
His hands shook as he pulled the letter from his pocket. The paper was smeared with blood, handprints marking its surface. He unfolded it, his breath shallow, and read:
Escape as fast as you can. I can't tell you any details, but it is not a lover night. Please leave as soon as you can. I will wait by the gate on the last day. When they take you, tell them you need time to get ready. At dinner that night, take a knife from the table — not before, because all the knives are fake. Only on that night do they bring out the real ones. Be careful no one sees you. Look through your window, and you will see me at the gate. Then you come out with the hidden knife and stab one of the family members. BUT DON'T TOUCH RALPH. After that, run. Run as quickly as you can. Don't stop. Don't turn away. Sprint into the woods and hide until sunrise. Then you will be safe. Go as far as you can.
The words ended abruptly, the blood smears blotting the final lines. Marco sat frozen, the letter trembling in his hands. His chest tightened, his mind spinning. The mother's decree and Jeremy's warning clashed violently within him, leaving him breathless.
He stared at the torn cardigan on the couch, whispering Colden's name under his breath. Five days. Five days until the night that would decide everything.
TO BE CONTINUED…
NEXT CHAPTER ON 11th FEBRUARY 2026