The Immortality’s Curse

ALEXANDER

^NAPLES, 1926^

She was oblivious to my presence, but I was there, watching her every night. Even though she tried to keep herself hidden, I could sense her. Her pain and shame were palpable, hitting me like a punch to the gut, leaving me doubled over in agony.

Her face was a mask, hiding the turmoil within, but I knew it was there, tearing her apart bit by bit.

I yearned to rush to her side. I wanted to scoop her up in my arms and whisk her away from the manor, away from my family. I wished I could turn back the clock and make everything right for her.

I wanted to erase her pain, to bear it myself. She was my girl, my Aya. It was unbearable to sense her pain, to see the vacant look in her eyes, to watch her go through the motions of life.

She was so much more than that. She was life itself, love, joy, beauty. She was everything that was good and pure.

But now, her light had been extinguished. She was an empty shell, unreachable.

I could feel the eyes of my grandfather’s men on me. They shadowed me through the castle, never letting me out of their sight. I was as much a captive as she was.

I had to free her. I had to make things right. So, I waited, biding my time for the perfect opportunity.

It was late when I was jolted awake by a sharp pain in my chest. As my eyes flew open, I could sense the sun high in the sky. I also knew that the pain wasn’t mine. She was dreaming again, her guilt tormenting her.

I sprang out of bed, hastily pulling on a pair of jeans and a leather jacket over my bare chest. I was out of my room in no time, barefoot. The guards were sound asleep on the daybed outside my room.

I vaulted past them, grabbed the marble railing, and slid downstairs. The manor was silent and hot during the day. I could feel the sun’s heat outside. It was uncomfortable to be out of the cool, isolated room, but it was bearable.

I made my way to the servants’ quarters. I had no clue where they had put her, so I prowled through the cells, looking at the sleeping figures.

As I neared the wall, her scent hit me, and I turned to see her shivering on a small wooden cot. She wasn’t cold; she was crying. The smell of her bloody tears filled the air.

A wave of rage washed over me at the thought of her suffering in the dark, but I swallowed it and strode toward her. Before she could even turn around, I had my hand over her mouth and was lifting her into my arms.

“It’s me,” I whispered, so only she could hear.

Her doe-like eyes were a bright crimson, and her golden cheeks were stained with bloody tears. Seeing her, holding her in my arms after weeks, filled me with a sense of comfort. This was right. She was mine. She was where she was meant to be—in my arms.

She looked like she was about to resist, so I didn’t give her the chance. I held her tightly and took off.

There were a few rooms on the floor above us, usually rented out to our royal cousins when they visited, but they were vacant today and quite secluded. I pushed open the first door and placed Aya on the bed before closing the door behind me.

When I turned back to her, she was standing against the far wall, her arms wrapped protectively around herself.

“I shouldn’t be here,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “We shouldn’t be here.”

“It’s all right, Aya. We’re alone,” I replied quickly.

She shook her head. “No. I need to leave,” she said, starting to walk briskly toward the door.

I lunged forward to stop her, my hands gripping her hips. She gasped as if I had burned her and recoiled from me. It felt like a knife twisting in my chest.

“Aya,” I murmured, trying to step toward her, but she flinched, and I faltered, torn between wanting to comfort her and not wanting to scare her.

“Let me go, Alex,” she whispered. “I just want to go.”

“We need to talk. I can feel your pain, Aya. I can make it better.”

Her anger flared, catching me off guard. Her crimson eyes narrowed on me. “Make it better?” she croaked. “You’re going to make it better?”

“Okay.” I moved toward her with a careful tread. She shot me a look that was pure, raw defiance, like a wild creature backed into a corner. “I’m going to get you out of this place. I’m going to set you free.”

Her anger seemed to swell, a tempest brewing within her. Clearly, my words weren’t hitting the mark.

“I didn’t have a choice, Aya. I did it to protect you. They would have torn you to pieces. I didn’t have a choice,” I tried to reason with her.

Her fury seemed to triple in intensity, nearly knocking me off balance. The weeping girl against the wall had transformed into a woman ablaze with anger, her gaze searing into me, her body trembling with pain.

“You think I’m angry because I’m a slave?” she spat out.

“No,” I shook my head. “No, I know I promised to save your family from you, and I failed. I’m so sorry—”

“I don’t want to hear your apologies, Alex,” she cut me off, her voice a snarl. “I don’t want anything to do with you!”

Her words felt like a physical blow. I could feel the warmth draining from my body, replaced by a cold emptiness.

“Little bird—”

“Don’t you dare,” she hissed. She shook her head with a vehemence that was almost violent. “Three years, Alex. In three years, you couldn’t tell me who we were running from? You lied to me!”

“I didn’t want you to be afraid! I wanted you to feel safe with me!”

“But I wasn’t, was I? I was completely unprepared,” she retorted. “You lied to me! I can’t trust you, Alex. I could never trust you.”

“What would it have changed if I told you, Aya? A young turned vampire could never have the strength to fight off a pureblood’s influence,” I argued.

She trembled with rage. I could hear her heartbeat once, her thirst spike. “All these excuses existed before you, Alex,” she growled. “You knew.” She trailed off. “You knew we were being hunted. You never trusted me enough to tell me—to warn me. I deserved that. I deserved to know.”

“I was protecting you. Everything I’ve done has been for you.”

“That’s not true, Alex,” she shook her head, a wave of sadness washing over her. Disappointment pierced me like a knife.

“No, Alex. You were selfish with me. You turned me on a whim, also killing me. Then you dragged me around the world, escaping your problems on your rebellious charade.”

I could feel my hands clenching into fists. I kept them at my sides, resisting the urge to reach out to her. Her words cut me to the core.

She was shaking her head. “I killed my whole family, Alex,” she whispered. “I ripped their throats out. The only people in the entire world that I cared about. And I killed them.”

“It was an accident,” I murmured.

She stared back at me. “I killed my family, Alex.”

“I know—”

“They’re dead because of me.”

“Aya…”

“There’s no way to repent for that, Alex. There’s no future for me anymore.”

“No,” I shook my head. “No, I’ll get you out of here, Aya. I’ll take you far away from here. I can make it right again.”

She met my gaze, her beautiful doe eyes filled with pain. She was so beautiful, so familiar to me—my closest companion.

“You have to let me go,” she said.

“I won’t,” I vowed. “I love you, Aya.”

“That won’t be enough.” She shook her head. “You can’t protect me, and I can’t protect those I love either.”

I recoiled at her words. “I can protect you!” I found myself insisting. “I would die for you, Aya!”

“I don’t want you to die. But I don’t want anything to do with you anymore. You can live your life as a prince, and I will work here. I’ll try to repent for my sins.”

“No,” I growled, striding toward her. My hands cupped her face. I wiped away the bloody tears that had fallen.

“No. I won’t lose you,” I swore fiercely. My heart pounded in my chest, deafening in the quiet room.

“We were never going to survive long,” she whispered. “We were never meant to be. This was just a fantasy. Now we’ve woken up. It was about time.”

“That’s not true,” I protested.

“I’m asking you to leave me alone,” she breathed. “I’m asking you to never come back.”

“I can’t let you go,” I whispered. I could feel my body shaking, my hands gripping her shoulders. I wanted to pull her into my arms.

***

The weight of her sorrow was palpable. “Alex, it’s your fault,” she said, her voice choked with emotion. “I can’t help but see it that way. My family is gone because you came into my life. You forced your way in. I blame you. I can’t look at you the same way anymore. I can’t love you, Alex.”

Each word she spoke was like a dagger to my heart, each one filled with raw honesty and pain. She didn’t want this. She didn’t want to push me away. But she felt she had no other choice. I had backed her into a corner.

I felt like I was suffocating. No. This couldn’t be happening.

“Aya, don’t do this to us. Please,” I pleaded.

“It’s over, Alex. It’s done. I need you to leave me alone. Don’t talk to me again.”

“I can’t live without you,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

“You can, Alex. You have to.”

“I love you.”

She shook her head, her face a mask of regret. “I wish we had never kissed. I wish you had never loved me. I wish I had never loved you. You don’t get to break me anymore. I hate you, Alex. I hate what you’ve turned me into. I hate that you took my life, my home, my family away from me. I can’t love you. All I can do is blame you and hate you.”

Her words were like a sledgehammer to my heart, shattering it into a million pieces. Then she unleashed all her anger, all her hatred, all her guilt, all her pain. Everything she was feeling—she threw at me.

It hit me like a physical blow, knocking the wind out of me. I staggered back, hitting the wall, trying to keep myself upright.

“I need to sleep. I have work tomorrow,” she said, pointing toward the door.

I could only stand there, watching as she walked past me, her gaze never meeting mine.

I was rooted to the spot, unable to do anything but watch as she left the room, taking the last remnants of my heart with her. She didn’t look back.

I had lost her. I had lost the only real thing I had ever known. I would remember everything—she would haunt me for the rest of my life.