The rain tapped against the window as Lucien’s voice trembled, recounting a story that seemed to come from another world, another lifetime.

“I was born,” he began, “to privilege, to wealth, to a name that commanded respect in every corner of the kingdom.” His words carried an ancient weight, as though time itself clung to each syllable. “My family owned lands vast enough to stretch beyond the horizon, their riches overflowing into the coffers of kings. But all that, all that gold and grandeur, meant nothing the moment I met her.”

Céline leaned closer, her breath caught in her throat.

“She was an alchemist’s daughter,” Lucien continued, his gaze distant. “Élodie. A creature of beauty and mystery, her every glance a spell, her every touch a promise. But it wasn’t just her beauty—it was her mind. She spoke of things beyond the realm of human understanding, of forces that could twist the laws of nature.”

His hands trembled as he spoke, his deadly fingers curling into his palms. “I thought her magic was the kind that would lift me to the heavens, but… it was her jealousy that destroyed me. When she discovered I had eyes for no one else, not even her… she poisoned me. But not to kill.” His voice broke, the memory cutting through the centuries. “She cursed me. Made me immortal. But with a touch that ends life. A monster who could never love.”

His voice dropped to a whisper. “Do you know what it means to outlive everyone? To bring death to those you care for? I have spent centuries in solitude, each step a scar on the earth, each moment a plea for an end that will never come.”

Céline’s chest ached, but not with fear or disgust. Instead, she felt a fire burn within her—a stubborn, unyielding resolve.

“You’re not a monster,” she said firmly, her voice cutting through his despair. Lucien’s eyes flickered with surprise, but she pressed on. “If Élodie could curse you, then there must be a way to lift it. Every spell has its counterbalance. Every curse has a cure.”

Lucien shook his head. “I have searched. For centuries, I have sought answers in forbidden tomes, asked witches and warlocks, followed trails that led to nothing but despair.”

“Then you searched alone,” Céline said softly, her eyes blazing with determination. “But now, you have me. I will find a way, Lucien. I swear it.”

From that moment, Céline threw herself into the pursuit of ancient knowledge. By day, she pored over crumbling manuscripts in dusty libraries, her fingers smudged with ink and age.

By night, she wandered the shadowy alleys of the city, whispering questions to those who trafficked in secrets. She found hidden apothecaries filled with dried herbs and jars of unnameable things, their proprietors suspicious but intrigued by her fervor.

Each step brought her closer, though the path was fraught with peril. But Céline refused to falter. For Lucien, she would brave anything.

***

Despite the barriers between them, Céline and Lucien grew closer. Their love, like a delicate flower in winter, blossomed in the most unlikely of circumstances. Lucien, a man frozen in time, taught Céline dances long forgotten by the world.

On nights when the moonlight streamed through the window, he would play soft melodies on an ancient piano, the notes weaving a story of longing and love. Céline would follow his lead, twirling in the moonlit room, always careful to keep just a breath’s distance.

When they could not dance, they wrote letters to each other, though they were never far apart. Céline would leave them on his desk, and Lucien would respond in elegant script, filling the pages with poetry and musings on the stars. Each letter was a testament to a love that thrived, not despite the curse, but in defiance of it.

In their quiet moments, they would sit by the fire, Lucien reading aloud from books of ancient poetry. Céline would close her eyes, letting his voice envelop her like a warm embrace. They spoke of dreams and futures, of a life they might one day share—a life without the curse.

And though they could never touch, they found solace in the nearness of each other, in the knowledge that their love was strong enough to withstand the impossible. Together, they built a fragile world of hope and intimacy, a sanctuary against the tragedy that threatened to consume them.

Their love was bittersweet, as tender as it was tragic. But it was theirs, and for now, it was enough.

To Be Continued …