Updated Mar 10, 2026 • ~9 min read
Sera wakes to someone knocking.
She sits up, disoriented.
Sunlight streams through the windows. Morning already.
She barely slept. Every sound in the manor kept her awake. Creaking. Settling. And once, around midnight, that howling again. Distant but unmistakable.
“Come in,” she calls.
Marcus enters with a breakfast tray.
“Good morning, my lady. I trust you slept well?”
Sera almost laughs. “Not particularly.”
“The manor takes some getting used to.”
He sets the tray on the writing desk. Tea. Toast. Eggs. Fruit.
“Thank you, Marcus.”
He nods. Then hesitates.
“My lady, there are… certain rules you should be aware of. For your own safety.”
“Lord Corvus mentioned I shouldn’t leave the west wing.”
“That’s one rule, yes. But there are others.”
Sera sits up straighter. “I’m listening.”
Marcus clasps his hands behind his back. The perfect butler. But there’s tension in his shoulders.
“First: Do not enter the east tower. Especially during the full moon.”
“Why?”
“It’s dangerous.”
“How is a tower dangerous?”
“Please, my lady. Just trust me on this.”
Sera crosses her arms. “What else?”
“Do not ask Lord Corvus about the mask. He won’t answer, and it upsets him.”
“I wasn’t planning to ask again. He made his position clear.”
“Good.” Marcus looks relieved. “Third: Do not explore the estate grounds at night. Stay inside after sunset.”
“Why? Are there wolves?”
“Among other things.”
What does that mean?
“Fourth: The servants may seem… nervous around you. It’s not personal. They’re simply cautious.”
“Cautious of what?”
Marcus doesn’t answer that.
“And finally: If you hear strange sounds at night, ignore them. Stay in your room. Don’t investigate.”
Sera thinks about the howling. The inhuman quality of it.
“What kinds of sounds?”
“Any sounds. Please, my lady. I know these rules seem arbitrary. But they’re for your protection.”
“Protection from what, Marcus? What is everyone so afraid of?”
He meets her eyes.
And for the first time, she sees genuine fear there.
“This estate is cursed, my lady. Has been for a decade. The less you know, the safer you’ll be.”
“Cursed? That’s ridiculous—”
“Is it? Look around. The dead forest. The isolation. The fact that Lord Corvus hasn’t left this estate in ten years.” Marcus’s voice drops. “There are things in this world that defy explanation. Dark things. And this manor sits at the center of one of them.”
Sera wants to laugh.
Curses aren’t real. This is the nineteenth century. Science and reason rule.
But then she thinks about the dead trees. The oppressive atmosphere. The howling.
The mask.
“What kind of curse?” she asks quietly.
“I’ve already said too much. Just follow the rules, my lady. Please.”
He turns to leave.
“Marcus, wait. One more question.”
He pauses.
“Has Lord Corvus ever hurt anyone? Should I be afraid of him?”
Marcus considers the question carefully.
“Lord Corvus is a good man trapped in terrible circumstances. He would never intentionally harm you. But…” He trails off.
“But?”
“But intention and outcome are not always aligned.”
Then he leaves.
And Sera sits in her bed.
Processing.
A cursed estate. Strange rules. A husband who hides behind a mask and locks himself in the east wing.
She should be terrified.
And she is.
But she’s also angry.
Because once again, decisions are being made for her. Rules imposed without explanation. Her agency stripped away.
Just like with her father.
Just like with this marriage.
Well, Sera didn’t survive twenty-three years under a weak, controlling father by blindly following rules.
She survived by being curious. Stubborn. Willing to break rules when they didn’t make sense.
And these rules?
Make no sense at all.
After breakfast, Sera explores the west wing more thoroughly.
In daylight, it’s less frightening. Still decayed, but at least she can see clearly.
She finds a portrait gallery.
Dozens of paintings. All Corvuses, she assumes.
Men with dark hair and severe expressions. Women in elaborate gowns. Children who look like miniature adults.
And then she sees it.
A portrait that doesn’t match the others.
Recent. Maybe a decade old.
A young man. Early twenties. Handsome—devastatingly so. Dark hair. Sharp features. Gray eyes that seem to see right through the canvas.
He’s smiling. Genuinely smiling.
The plaque reads: Lord Damien Corvus, Age 19
Sera stares.
This is her husband?
No mask. No scars. Just a beautiful, confident young man who looks nothing like the cold stranger she married yesterday.
What happened to him?
“You found the portrait.”
Sera spins around.
Marcus stands in the doorway.
“Is this really him?” she asks. “Lord Corvus?”
“Before,” Marcus says quietly. “Before the witch.”
“The witch?”
Marcus sighs. Walks closer to the portrait.
“Ten years ago, Lord Corvus was engaged to a woman named Isolde. Beautiful. Wealthy. Connected to old magic—though no one spoke of it openly.”
“Magic isn’t real.”
“Isn’t it?” Marcus gestures to the portrait. “Lord Corvus rejected her. Publicly. He discovered she was… not what she seemed. He called off the engagement. Humiliated her in front of society.”
“So she cursed him?”
“So she destroyed him.” Marcus’s voice is bitter. “The curse manifested on his twenty-first birthday. The mask is the least of it.”
Sera looks back at the portrait.
At the young man who had everything.
“What does the curse do?” she asks.
“I can’t tell you that. Lord Corvus would have to explain.”
“He won’t.”
“Then you’ll have to earn his trust first.”
“How am I supposed to do that when he won’t even see me?”
Marcus gives her a sad smile. “That, my lady, is the real challenge.”
That afternoon, Sera tries to read in the library.
But she can’t focus.
Her mind keeps returning to the portrait. To the rules. To the howling she heard last night.
She’s missing something.
Some piece of the puzzle that would make all of this make sense.
The full moon.
Marcus specifically said not to enter the east tower during the full moon.
Why?
What happens during the full moon?
Sera goes to the window.
Looks up at the sky.
The moon is waxing. Three-quarters full.
Which means the full moon is in… five days?
Maybe six?
Whatever happens, it happens during the full moon.
And everyone is terrified of it.
That evening, Sera hears voices.
She’s in her room when raised voices echo from somewhere in the manor.
She opens her door.
Listens.
“—can’t keep doing this, my lord! The transformations are getting worse!”
Marcus. Agitated. Unlike his usual composed self.
“I’m handling it.” Damien’s voice. Strained.
“You barely controlled it last month! What happens when you can’t control it at all?”
“I’ll lock myself in the tower. Like always.”
“And if the locks don’t hold?”
Silence.
Then: “Then you know what to do.”
“My lord—”
“We’ve discussed this, Marcus. If I ever fully lose control, you end it. Quickly. Before I hurt someone.”
Sera’s blood runs cold.
End it?
End what?
“She complicates things,” Marcus says quietly. “Lady Corvus. She’s here now. In the manor. What if—”
“She’ll be in the west wing. Far from the tower. She’ll be safe.”
“Will she? The last time—”
“Don’t.” Damien’s voice turns sharp. “Don’t talk about Lilith.”
Lilith.
Who is Lilith?
“I’m just saying, my lord. History has a way of repeating itself.”
“Sera is not Lilith. This is a business arrangement. Nothing more. She’ll stay in the west wing. I’ll stay in the east. The curse won’t affect her.”
“And if it does?”
Another silence.
“Then I’ll do what I should have done ten years ago. End it before anyone else gets hurt.”
Footsteps.
Sera ducks back into her room.
Closes the door silently.
Her heart is pounding.
Transformations. Losing control. Someone named Lilith.
And Damien talking about ending it.
Ending what?
His life?
The curse?
Sera leans against the door.
This is bigger than she thought.
Damien isn’t just hiding behind a mask.
He’s hiding something dangerous.
Something that transforms.
Something he’s terrified of losing control of.
And the full moon is in five days.
That night, Sera can’t sleep.
She lies in bed, staring at the ceiling.
Listening.
Around midnight, she hears it again.
Howling.
But closer this time.
Coming from the east tower.
It sounds anguished. In pain.
And underneath the howling, she swears she can hear words.
Screaming.
Damien’s voice?
She can’t be sure.
The howling goes on for hours.
Then, just before dawn, it stops.
And the manor falls silent again.
The next morning, Marcus looks exhausted.
He brings breakfast but says nothing about the howling.
“Is Lord Corvus well?” Sera asks.
Marcus pauses. “As well as can be expected.”
“I heard sounds last night. From the east tower.”
“I told you to ignore strange sounds, my lady.”
“Is he hurt? Should I—”
“No.” Marcus’s voice is firm. “Lord Corvus is managing his condition. You cannot help. Please, my lady. Stay in the west wing. Especially during the full moon.”
“When is the full moon?”
“Five days.”
Sera’s suspicion confirmed.
“What happens during the full moon?”
Marcus won’t meet her eyes. “Nothing you need to concern yourself with.”
“Marcus, I’m his wife—”
“In name only. He made that very clear. You have your role. He has his. Don’t cross that boundary, my lady. For both your sakes.”
He leaves.
And Sera sits with her untouched breakfast.
Five days until the full moon.
Five days until whatever happens in the east tower happens again.
And everyone is begging her to stay away.
To ignore it.
To pretend she doesn’t hear her husband screaming in pain.
But Sera has never been good at ignoring things.
Especially when someone’s suffering.
Even if that someone is a stranger.
Even if that someone bought her like property.
He’s still her husband.
And something is very, very wrong.
She’s going to find out what.
Even if it kills her.
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