Chapter 2 The Touch That Binds

The doors of Thornvale Manor groaned open like the jaws of some ancient beast, swallowing Auren whole. The air inside was thick, heavy with the scent of damp stone and faded roses, as if the house itself were mourning.

Her boots echoed on the marble floor, each step a heartbeat in the silence. The stranger-whose name she still hadn't pried loose-led her through a grand foyer, its chandelier dripping crystals that caught the torchlight like tears frozen in time. Shadows clung to the walls, shifting as if alive, and Auren's magic hummed beneath her skin, sharp and restless, like a bird beating its wings against a cage."Keep up, healer," the stranger growled, his scar glinting as he glanced back.

"Lord Thorne doesn't wait."Auren's lips curled, her voice dripping with mock sweetness. "Oh, sugar, I'm right behind you. Wouldn't want to miss the party." But her bravado was a thin veil. Her heart thundered, and the scar on her palm burned, a reminder of the last time she'd trusted her magic to save someone.

Not this time, she told herself, clutching her cloak tighter. You're here for the coin, not the ghosts.The stranger led her up a spiraling staircase, its banister carved with thorns that seemed to writhe in the flickering light. Portraits lined the walls-pale faces with hollow eyes, their gazes following her like sentinels. Auren's magic flared, painting a fleeting vision: a woman in a crimson gown, her scream silent as flames devoured her.

She stumbled, gripping the banister, her breath jagged. The stranger didn't notice, or didn't care, and she forced herself to move, shoving the vision down where it couldn't claw her apart.They stopped at a set of double doors, their wood blackened as if scorched. The stranger knocked once, then pushed them open, revealing a chamber that stole Auren's breath. It was a study, vast and cavernous, with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves that loomed like sentinels. A fire roared in a hearth the size of a carriage, its flames casting a golden glow over a desk strewn with maps and inkwells.

But it was the man standing by the window who commanded the room, his presence a storm trapped in human form.Kael Thorne.He was taller than she'd expected, his frame lean but coiled, like a predator poised to strike. His black hair fell in waves, brushing a jaw sharp enough to cut glass. A high-collared coat hugged his shoulders, its fabric absorbing the light, and when he turned, his eyes-gray as a winter sea-pinned her in place.

They weren't just cold; they were ancient, heavy with secrets that made her magic pulse like a second heartbeat. A scar slashed across his left cheek, mirroring the stranger's but deeper, angrier, as if carved by fate itself."You're the healer," Kael said, his voice low, velvet over steel. It wasn't a question. He stepped closer, and the air seemed to thicken, the fire dimming as if bowing to him. "Auren Lyselle."Her name in his mouth was a spark, igniting something she couldn't name. She lifted her chin, refusing to flinch. "And you're the Cursed Lord. Guess we're both famous." Her tone was sharp, but her hands trembled, hidden in the folds of her cloak. Old Mara's warning echoed: His touch is death.

Yet here she was, inches from a man who could end her with a graze.Kael's lips twitched, a ghost of a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Fame is a poor companion," he said, circling her slowly, his boots silent on the rug. "What brings you to my door, healer? Gold? Glory? Or something... darker?"Auren's pulse raced, but she matched his gaze, her amber eyes blazing. "Ten crowns and a chance to get out of this storm. That's my story, Lord Thorne. What's yours?" She stepped forward, closing the distance, her bravado a shield against the fear coiling in her gut. Her magic hummed louder now, whispering of danger-and something else, something warm, like a memory she'd never lived.The stranger coughed, breaking the tension.

"My lord, she's here to tend your... condition."Kael's eyes flicked to the stranger, then back to Auren, and for a moment, she saw it-pain, raw and unguarded, flickering in his gaze like a candle in the wind. "My condition," he repeated, the words bitter as ash. "Very well. Let's see if you're as gifted as they claim."He extended his hand, palm up, and the room seemed to hold its breath. Auren froze, Mara's warning screaming in her mind. His touch is death. The stranger shifted, his hand on his sword, as if expecting her to bolt.

But Kael's eyes held her, not with threat but with something softer, something that made her chest ache. A challenge. A plea."Don't," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "I've heard the stories. I'm not here to die.""And I'm not here to kill you," Kael replied, his voice softer now, almost human. "Touch me, Auren. Or walk away. The choice is yours."Her magic surged, a tide pulling her toward him, and she cursed herself for listening. She'd killed with her touch once-her lover, his eyes wide with betrayal as her magic burned through him. What was she doing, tempting fate again? But the gold, the redemption, the need to prove she wasn't broken-they anchored her. Slowly, her hand rose, trembling, and her fingers brushed his.

The world shattered.A jolt shot through her, not pain but power, like lightning kissing the earth. Her magic roared, and a vision swallowed her: a battlefield, Kael's sword flashing, a woman's voice screaming his name. Then warmth, his hand in hers, a garden blooming under a blood-red moon. Auren gasped, yanking her hand back, but Kael's fingers closed around hers, holding tight. She didn't burn. She didn't die. She lived."You're alive," Kael breathed, his voice raw, disbelieving. His grip tightened, and she saw it again-that pain in his eyes, now mingled with wonder.

"How?"Auren's heart pounded, her skin tingling where they touched. "I could ask you the same," she snapped, pulling free, though her body screamed to stay close. Her magic was a storm now, wild and unbound, and she felt him-his essence, like a song she'd forgotten. "What are you?"Kael stepped back, his face shuttering, the warmth gone. "A man," he said, but the word was hollow, a lie dressed in truth. He turned to the stranger. "Leave us, Gavric."The stranger-Gavric-hesitated, his eyes narrowing.

"My lord-""Now," Kael growled, and the fire flared, as if feeding on his anger. Gavric bowed and left, the doors closing with a thud that echoed like a coffin lid.Auren's breath came fast, her mind spinning. She should run, should flee this cursed place and its cursed lord. But her feet stayed rooted, drawn to Kael like a moth to a flame. "You didn't answer my question," she said, her voice steadier than she felt.

"What's the curse? And why am I still breathing?"Kael's jaw tightened, his scar stark against his pale skin. He crossed to the desk, pouring wine from a decanter, the liquid red as blood. "You're alive because you're... different," he said, choosing his words like steps on thin ice. "As for the curse..." He drained the glass, his throat working.

"Everything I touch with intent dies. Men, beasts, even flowers. They wither, and I remain."Auren's stomach twisted, her own guilt rising like bile. She'd killed too, hadn't she? Her lover's face flashed-his smile, then his scream. "Sounds lonely," she said, softer than she meant, her voice a thread of vulnerability she couldn't reel back.Kael's eyes met hers, and for a moment, the walls between them crumbled. "It is," he said, the words a confession, heavy as stone. "But loneliness is a small price for survival."Auren wanted to argue, to tell him survival wasn't living, but her magic pulsed again, and another vision struck: Kael, younger, laughing, a woman in his arms.

Then blood, her body limp, his hands stained red. Auren swayed, clutching the desk, and Kael was there, his hand hovering but not touching, as if afraid to break her."What did you see?" he demanded, his voice urgent, his breath warm against her cheek."Nothing," she lied, straightening, her walls slamming back up. "Just... dizziness. Long day." But her heart raced, and she knew he saw through her. The vision wasn't just a memory-it was a warning. Her magic was tied to him, to this place, and she was sinking deeper into its web.Kael stepped back, his face a mask again. "Rest," he said, gesturing to a door behind the desk. "We'll begin tomorrow. Gavric will show you to a room."Auren nodded, her legs unsteady as she moved to leave.

But at the door, she paused, glancing back. "If I'm so different," she said, her voice sharp with defiance, "what happens when your curse figures it out?"Kael's eyes darkened, and for the first time, she saw fear in them. "Pray it doesn't," he said, his voice a whisper that lingered like smoke.As Auren stepped into the hall, the doors closing behind her, her magic flared one last time, and a new vision burned through her: a locket, engraved with her initials, lying in a pool of blood. She stumbled, her breath hitching, and the manor's shadows seemed to whisper her name.Whatever Kael Thorne was, he wasn't just cursed. He was her past, her fate-and maybe her doom.