Elena's POV
Glass rained down as dark figures poured through the shattered window.
"Move!" Théo shoved me toward the door.
Adrian grabbed my hand—pain exploded but we ran anyway—through the apartment, toward the elevator. Behind us, footsteps thundered. Voices shouted in languages I didn't recognize.
"The elevator's too slow!" Adrian yanked me toward a different door. "Fire stairs!"
We burst into the stairwell. Started running down—then stopped.
Society members were coming up.
We were trapped.
"Roof," Théo gasped, reversing direction. "There's a fire escape on the other side."
Up. We climbed up instead of down, our footsteps echoing. My lungs burned. My legs screamed. But terror kept me moving.
We crashed through the roof access door into cold night air.
Paris sprawled below us, beautiful and indifferent to our panic.
"There!" Théo pointed to a fire escape on the far side. "If we can reach it—"
Katerina stepped out of the shadows, five Society members flanking her.
We spun around. More members emerged from the stairwell behind us.
Surrounded.
"Did you really think I wouldn't track you?" Katerina smiled. "Théo, darling, your 'untraceable' safe house has been on my radar for thirty years. I was just waiting for the right moment to use it."
Théo's face went pale. "How?"
"I planted a tracking spell on you in 1987. You never even noticed." She laughed. "You've been leading me to Adrian's hiding spots for decades."
"You're lying," Théo said, but doubt crept into his voice.
"Am I?" Katerina pulled out a small device, pressed a button. Théo gasped and stumbled, clutching his chest. "Feel that? That's the spell activating. Every beat of your half-immortal heart has been a beacon for me."
"Stop it!" I screamed. "You're hurting him!"
"That's the idea." Katerina released the button. Théo collapsed, gasping. "Now. Here's what happens next. You three come with us quietly. No fighting. No magic. No heroics. Or I press this button and Théo's heart stops permanently."
Adrian's hand tightened on mine. The curse's pain was unbearable but neither of us let go.
"And if we cooperate?" Adrian asked coldly.
"Then Margot and Céleste live through the night. Elena performs the transfer ritual. Everyone goes home happy." Katerina's smile widened. "Except you, of course. You'll finally die. After 847 years, isn't that what you want? Peace?"
"Not like this," Adrian said.
"Too bad." Katerina nodded to her members. "Take them."
They moved toward us. Adrian pushed me behind him protectively—
And Théo threw something.
A vial of glowing liquid exploded at the Society members' feet. Light erupted—blinding, searing. Everyone screamed and stumbled back.
"Jump!" Théo shouted at us.
"What?" I stared at him.
"The next building is only fifteen feet! You can make it!" He was pulling more vials from his pockets, throwing them. Creating a wall of magical light between us and the Society. "Jump now! I'll hold them off!"
"We're not leaving you!" Adrian shouted.
"You have to!" Théo's eyes met his. "This is what I've been preparing for. Eighty years of planning, Adrian. Trust me. Jump!"
The light was fading. The Society members were recovering, pushing through.
"NOW!" Théo screamed.
Adrian grabbed me and ran toward the roof's edge. I saw the gap—fifteen feet of empty air above a six-story drop—and my brain screamed this was suicide.
But Adrian didn't hesitate. He pulled me close despite the curse's agony, and we jumped.
For one horrible moment, we were flying. Falling. The ground rushing up to meet us.
Then we hit the next roof hard, rolling. Pain shot through my shoulder but we were alive.
Behind us, Théo's voice rose in an ancient language. The light intensified to blinding.
Then—an explosion.
"No!" Adrian tried to run back but I held him.
"We have to go," I sobbed. "He bought us time. We can't waste it."
Adrian's face was devastated but he nodded. We ran across the roof, found another fire escape, climbed down into an alley.
My phone rang. Unknown number.
I answered, hands shaking. "Hello?"
"Keep running." Théo's voice, weak but alive. "Northwest. Three blocks. There's a church—Saint-Étienne. The priest owes me a favor. He'll hide you."
"You're alive!" Relief flooded through me.
"Barely. The explosion knocked them back but didn't kill them. Can't kill immortals that easily." He coughed. "I've got maybe an hour before they track me again. Use it. Get to the church. Figure out a plan."
"Théo—"
"And Elena? The tracking spell Katerina mentioned? It was real. But I've known about it for twenty years. I've been feeding her false information through it. Tonight was the first time I led her somewhere true—because I needed her to think she'd won." His voice grew fainter. "Trust the plan. Trust yourselves. Break the curse the right way."
The line went dead.
Adrian and I ran through the dark Paris streets. My lungs were on fire. My shoulder throbbed from the landing. But we kept moving.
Three blocks. Saint-Étienne Church rose before us, old and solid and safe.
We pounded on the door. An elderly priest answered, took one look at us, and pulled us inside.
"Théo called," he said simply. "Come."
He led us down stone stairs into the crypt beneath the church. "You'll be safe here. The wards are ancient—older than the Society itself. They can't track you through them."
"Thank you," Adrian breathed.
The priest studied us with kind, knowing eyes. "You're the cursed one. The one Théo has been trying to save."
Adrian nodded.
"And you're the girl willing to die for him." The priest looked at me. "Love is a powerful thing. Powerful enough to break any curse. But only if it's true."
"It's true," I said.
"Then you'll survive what's coming." He pressed something into my hand—a small silver key. "When the time comes, when you're in the ritual chamber, use this key on the altar stone. It will reveal the original curse's anchor point. Destroy it, and the curse shatters."
"How do you know this?" Adrian asked.
"Because I'm older than I look." The priest smiled sadly. "I was there when Isabeau's mother cast the curse. I tried to stop her. Failed. Have been atoning ever since." He touched Adrian's shoulder gently. "I'm sorry, my son. Sorry for your centuries of pain."
Adrian's eyes widened. "You're—"
"A witness. A guardian. A regret made flesh." The priest turned to leave. "You have four hours until they breach the church wards. Rest. Prepare. And remember—the curse will test you. Show you lies. Prey on your fears. Don't believe what you see. Believe what you feel."
He left us alone in the crypt.
Adrian and I sat on the cold stone floor, finally able to breathe.
"Four hours," I said numbly.
"Then we face everything." Adrian's hand found mine. The pain was constant now, a burning that never stopped. The curse was getting stronger. "Elena, if this goes wrong—"
"It won't."
"But if it does—" His voice broke. "I need you to know. These past days with you have been the happiest of my entire life. All 847 years. You made me remember why life is worth living."
Tears streamed down my face. "Don't say goodbye. We're going to break this curse. We're going to save everyone. And then—"
"And then what?"
"And then we'll have forever. A real forever. Not curse-forever. Just... normal human forever."
Adrian pulled me close despite the agony of contact. "I love you. However long forever is, I'll spend it loving you."
"I love you too."
We kissed. Pain exploded through us both—the curse fighting back—but we didn't care. For one perfect moment, nothing else mattered.
My phone buzzed.
A text from Théo: They're bringing Margot and Céleste to the ritual chamber now. Ceremony starts in three hours. I've attached the chamber's blueprints. There's a weakness in the magical circle they don't know about. Hit it at the right moment and their whole spell collapses. But Elena—you'll only get one shot. Miss it, and the transfer completes. You die and Katerina becomes immortal.
Another message: The priest gave you the key, didn't he? That's half the solution. The other half is in Isabeau's journal. Page 47. The part you didn't read yet. Read it now.
I pulled out the journal with shaking hands, flipped to page 47.
My blood turned to ice.
"The curse's final secret: it was never meant to be eternal. Mother designed it to last only until Adrian learned the lesson she wanted to teach him—that love requires sacrifice. That true love means choosing another's happiness over your own. Once he learned that lesson, once he proved it through action, the curse was programmed to break automatically."
I read it aloud to Adrian.
He stared at me. "Wait. You mean all this time—"
"The curse could have broken centuries ago," I finished. "You just had to prove you'd learned the lesson. That you'd choose someone else's life over your own happiness."
"But I have," Adrian said desperately. "I've walked away from people I cared about to save them. I've lived alone to protect others. Why didn't the curse break?"
I kept reading: "But there's a catch. The sacrifice must be witnessed by a Moreau witch. The bloodline that cast the curse must acknowledge the lesson learned. Otherwise, the curse remains, thinking its work unfinished."
Understanding crashed over me. "That's why you need me. Not to die. Not to transfer anything. Just to witness your sacrifice. To acknowledge you've learned the lesson. To tell the curse it's done."
"So the ritual tonight—"
"Is unnecessary," I breathed. "We don't need the full moon. We don't need elaborate spells. We just need—"
My phone rang. Grandmother's number.
I answered. "Hello?"
"Elena." Her voice was tight. "I know what you found in the journal. I know what you're planning. And I'm telling you—it won't work."
"Why not?"
"Because I already witnessed Adrian's sacrifice. Decades ago, when he walked away from a woman he loved to save her life. I was there. I watched. I acknowledged it." Grandmother's voice shook. "I tried to break the curse then. Tried to tell it the lesson was learned. But it didn't work."
My heart sank. "Why?"
"Because the curse isn't looking for any Moreau witch's acknowledgment." Grandmother took a shaky breath. "It's looking for forgiveness. Isabeau's forgiveness specifically. The curse is tied to her death, her grief, her mother's rage at losing her. It won't break until Isabeau herself forgives Adrian for the choices that led to her death."
"But Isabeau is dead," Adrian said. "She's been dead for 847 years. How can she—"
"She can't," Grandmother said flatly. "That's the point. The curse was designed to be unbreakable. My mother didn't want a lesson learned. She wanted eternal punishment. The sacrifice clause was a lie. A false hope to make the suffering worse."
Silence.
"So there's no way," I whispered. "No way to break it."
"There's one way," Grandmother said quietly. "The way the Society is demanding. Transfer the curse. It kills you, but it frees Adrian. That's the only real solution."
"No," Adrian said immediately. "Absolutely not."
"Then he stays cursed," Grandmother replied. "And in three days when the love curse activates fully, Elena dies anyway. At least this way, her death means something."
She hung up.
I stared at the phone, my world collapsing.
Adrian pulled me close. "She's wrong. There has to be another way."
"What if there isn't?" My voice broke. "What if dying is the only way to save you?"
"Then I don't want to be saved." Adrian's eyes were fierce. "I'd rather suffer another 847 years than watch you die for me."
"That's not your choice to make."
"Yes it is!" He grabbed my shoulders. "Elena, I'm 879 years old. I've lived a thousand lifetimes. You're 27. You have your whole life ahead of you. Your choice is easy."
"My choice is you," I said firmly. "And if dying saves you, then—"
The church bell rang. Once. Twice. Three times.
The priest's voice called down: "They're here. The wards are holding but they won't last long. You need to decide. Run and hide, buying yourselves a few more hours of life. Or go to them now and face this on your terms."
Adrian and I looked at each other.
"If we run," he said, "Margot and Céleste die."
"If we go," I said, "one of us dies."
"Not both?" Adrian asked with a bitter smile.
"Not both," I confirmed. "Either I transfer the curse and die, or we do nothing and the love curse kills me in three days anyway."
"There's a third option."
"What?"
Adrian's face was resolved. "I walk away. Right now. I leave Paris, leave France, disappear like I've done a hundred times before. Without me here, the love curse has no target. You survive. Margot and Céleste survive. The Society has no leverage."
"And you suffer forever," I said.
"I'm used to it."
"I'm not used to losing you!" My voice cracked. "Adrian, I just found you. I can't—"
"And I just found something worth living for," he interrupted gently. "Which means I finally understand what real sacrifice is. Not dying for someone. But living without them so they can be happy."
He kissed my forehead—the pain made us both gasp—and stood up.
"I'm sorry, Elena. For everything. For writing those letters. For pulling you into this nightmare. For falling in love with you." His grey eyes held mine. "But I'm not sorry for knowing you. These days with you were worth 847 years of loneliness."
He turned toward the stairs.
"If you walk away," I said quietly, "I'll follow you."
Adrian stopped. "What?"
"You heard me." I stood up, my jaw set. "You leave, I follow. You hide, I find you. You run, I chase. Because I love you, and love doesn't quit just because things get hard."
"Elena—"
"So here's the real choice," I continued. "We face this together. Right now. No running. No hiding. We go to that ritual, and we find a way—some way—to break this curse without anyone dying. Or we both walk away and spend however long we have running together."
Adrian stared at me. "You're serious."
"Completely."
"You'd give up your life, your home, everything—"
"I already lost everything once," I said. "My family, my business, my home. And you know what I learned? Things don't matter. People do. And you're the person I choose."
For a long moment, Adrian just looked at me. Then he crossed the space between us and pulled me into his arms, curse pain be damned.
"Together," he whispered.
"Together," I agreed.
The church bell rang again. Urgent now.
The priest appeared on the stairs. "They're breaking through the wards. Two minutes. Maybe less."
Adrian and I looked at each other one last time.
"Ready?" he asked.
"No," I admitted. "But let's do it anyway."
We climbed the stairs, hand in hand, walking toward whatever waited above.
The church doors burst open just as we reached the top.
Katerina stood there, Society members flanking her. But she wasn't smiling anymore.
She looked furious.
"You figured it out," she said. "The journal's secret. The forgiveness clause."
"Yes," Adrian said. "Not that it matters. Isabeau is dead."
"That's what I thought too." Katerina's eyes glittered with rage. "Until five minutes ago, when Théo sent me a very interesting message. Want to know what it said?"
My stomach dropped.
"It said: Isabeau didn't die 847 years ago. She's alive. And I know where to find her."
The world stopped.
Adrian's face went white as death. "That's impossible."
"Is it?" Katerina held up her phone, showing us a photo.
A woman with dark hair and ancient eyes, standing in what looked like a modern apartment. She looked about thirty but something in her expression was old. So old.
And she looked exactly like the painting of Isabeau in the Moreau family records.
"Théo found her three hours ago," Katerina said. "And here's the fun part—she's been alive this whole time. Hiding. Watching. Letting you suffer. Want to know why?"
Neither of us could speak.
Katerina's smile was vicious. "Because she's the one who hired me. She's been funding the Society for 200 years. She's the reason we've been hunting you, Adrian." She paused. "Because she wants to make sure you suffer forever. She doesn't want to forgive you. She wants you to hurt."
"No," Adrian breathed. "She loved me. She died trying to break the curse—"
"She faked her death," Katerina corrected. "Used her own mother's curse to make herself immortal too. And for 847 years, she's been making sure no one ever breaks your curse. Making sure you stay alone. Stay in pain."
She turned the phone toward us again. "Want to hear what she told Théo when he found her?"
She pressed play.
Isabeau's voice—beautiful and cold—came through the speaker:
"Adrian Thorne broke my heart. He made choices that destroyed our future. So I made sure he'd never have a future with anyone else. The curse isn't punishment. It's justice. And I'll never, ever forgive him."
The recording ended.
Katerina smiled. "So here's your reality check. The curse can't be broken by forgiveness because the person who needs to forgive you refuses to. You're stuck. Forever. Unless..." She gestured to me. "Unless Elena does the transfer ritual and dies to set you free. That's your only option."
"Or," a new voice said from behind Katerina, "we force Isabeau to forgive him."
Everyone turned.
Théo stood there, battered and bleeding. And next to him, being pulled along by a glowing magical chain—
Isabeau herself.
She looked exactly like her photo. Beautiful and terrible and radiating power.
"Hello, Adrian," she said coldly. "Miss me?"