Updated Mar 10, 2026 • ~8 min read
Four days until the full moon.
Sera wakes with a plan.
If Damien won’t let her see him during the transformation, she’ll at least try to understand him before it happens.
The man, not the beast.
She spends the morning reading more of Lilith’s journal.
Looking for clues about what worked. What didn’t.
One entry stands out:
I found a portrait of Damien before the curse. He was beautiful. Smiling. Full of life. When I asked Marcus about it, he cried. Actually cried. “That boy is gone,” he said. “The curse killed him the moment it took hold.” But I don’t think that’s true. I see glimpses of that boy sometimes. When Damien forgets to be guarded. When he laughs at something I say, then catches himself. The boy isn’t gone. He’s just buried under ten years of suffering.
Sera closes the journal.
She’s already seen the portrait. The one in the gallery.
Damien at nineteen. Before the curse.
But maybe there are others.
Maybe there are more pieces of his past scattered throughout this manor.
She goes exploring again.
The library becomes her refuge.
Massive. Two stories. Thousands of books lining floor-to-ceiling shelves.
Some sections are well-maintained. Others covered in dust.
Sera notices that certain areas are cleaner than others.
Someone still uses this library.
Damien, probably.
She finds a section on mythology. Curses. Dark magic.
Books that look well-read. Spine creases. Dog-eared pages.
He’s been researching. Trying to break the curse himself.
She pulls out a book on transformation curses.
Opens it.
Pages of notes in the margins. Damien’s handwriting, she assumes.
Neat. Precise. Desperate.
Tried this. Didn’t work.
Witch refused to help.
Ritual failed. Nearly killed Marcus.
Isolde’s magic too strong.
Sera’s heart aches.
Ten years of trying. Ten years of failure.
No wonder he’s given up.
She keeps exploring the library.
And finds something unexpected.
A small door hidden behind a bookshelf.
Unlocked.
She opens it.
Inside: a private study.
Smaller than the main library. More intimate.
A desk. Chairs. A fireplace.
And walls covered in portraits.
Damien’s family.
She recognizes some from the gallery. But these are different.
More personal. Less formal.
A young Damien with his parents. Maybe ten years old. Smiling at the camera.
Damien with a girl around his age. Dark hair. Similar features. His sister?
Damien as a teenager. Holding a book. Looking studious and slightly awkward.
And then: Damien at nineteen.
The same portrait from the gallery, but here it’s different.
Not displayed for show. Kept private.
A reminder of who he used to be.
Or a punishment. A way to torture himself with what he’s lost.
Sera stares at the portrait.
At the young man who had everything.
Wealth. Family. A future.
And then a scorned witch took it all away.
“You shouldn’t be in here.”
Sera spins around.
Damien stands in the doorway.
Still wearing the mask. Still dressed in black.
But his voice sounds less cold than usual.
More… resigned.
“I’m sorry,” Sera says. “I was exploring and found—”
“My hiding place. I know.”
He steps into the room.
Sera notices he moves carefully. Like he’s in pain.
“Are you alright?” she asks.
“As well as can be expected four days before a full moon.”
He walks to the desk. Sits heavily.
Sera stays by the portraits.
“Is this your family?” she asks, gesturing to the images.
Damien looks up. Sees which one she’s indicating.
“Yes. My parents. They died when I was twenty-five. Five years after the curse.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. They lived long enough to see what I’d become. The disappointment was worse than their deaths.”
The bitterness in his voice cuts deep.
“I’m sure they didn’t—”
“They did. My father spent a fortune trying to break the curse. Hired every witch, priest, and charlatan in Europe. Nothing worked. He died thinking his son was a monster.”
Damien looks at the portrait of his sister.
“Catherine. My younger sister. She was sixteen when the curse hit. Terrified of me. Avoided me for years. Then…” He trails off.
“Then what?”
“Then I killed her.”
Sera’s blood runs cold.
“During a transformation. I broke free from the tower. Found her in the garden. I didn’t recognize her. Just saw prey.”
His voice is completely flat. Emotionless.
Like he’s told this story so many times it’s lost all meaning.
“By the time I changed back, she was dead. Marcus found her body at dawn.”
Sera can’t breathe.
“That’s when I knew I couldn’t be around people. Couldn’t risk it. So I isolated myself. Sent away the servants except Marcus. Locked myself in the tower every full moon. Became the monster everyone said I was.”
He looks at Sera.
And she sees the truth in his eyes.
He’s not hiding behind the mask to protect his appearance.
He’s hiding because he doesn’t believe he deserves to be seen.
To be human.
“You’re not a monster,” Sera says quietly.
“I killed my sister.”
“The curse killed your sister. You didn’t choose it. You didn’t want it.”
“Intention doesn’t matter when someone’s dead.”
“Maybe not. But it matters for who you are now. What you do with the guilt.”
Damien stands. “And what am I supposed to do with it? I can’t bring her back. Can’t undo what happened. Can’t break the curse no matter how hard I try.”
“So you punish yourself. Lock yourself away. Refuse to let anyone close.”
“It’s safer that way.”
“For who? For me? Or for you?”
Damien stares at her.
“You don’t know me, Sera. You’ve been here less than a week.”
“Then let me know you. Let me understand.”
“Why? We’re strangers. This is a contract, nothing more.”
“Is it? Because you’re standing here talking to me instead of hiding in the east wing. Because you warned me about the full moon. Because you promised to talk after it’s over.” Sera steps closer. “You say you want isolation. But I think you’re lonely. And I think you’re terrified of hoping that maybe, just maybe, someone could see past the curse to the man underneath.”
Damien’s jaw clenches.
“Hope is dangerous.”
“So is despair.”
They stand in silence.
The portraits watching. Judging.
Then Damien speaks. Softer now.
“Lilith hoped. She thought love could break the curse. It nearly killed her.”
“I’m not Lilith.”
“No. You’re smarter. More practical. You know this is a business arrangement. That’s why I chose you.”
“You keep saying that. But I don’t think you believe it anymore.”
Damien looks away.
“You should go. I came here to be alone.”
“Why? So you can stare at portraits and remember everything you’ve lost?”
“Yes.”
The honesty surprises her.
“That’s not living, Damien. That’s just existing.”
“Existing is all I have left.”
Sera wants to argue.
But she sees the exhaustion in his posture. The pain he’s carrying.
He’s been fighting this curse for a decade.
Ten years of failure. Loss. Guilt.
No wonder he’s given up.
“The portrait of you at nineteen,” Sera says. “You were happy.”
“I was naive.”
“You were human. Before the curse. Before Isolde.”
“That person is gone.”
“Is he? Or are you just afraid to let him exist again?”
Damien finally looks at her.
Really looks.
And for a moment, Sera sees past the mask.
Sees the pain. The loneliness. The desperate, buried hope that maybe someone could understand.
“You ask dangerous questions,” he says.
“I’m good at that.”
Despite everything, Damien almost smiles.
Almost.
“You should go, Sera. Before I say something I’ll regret.”
“Like what?”
“Like the truth. That you’re the first person in three years who’s made me feel remotely human. And that terrifies me.”
Sera’s heart skips.
“Why does it terrify you?”
“Because the last person who made me feel that way ran away. And I don’t blame her. But I can’t survive that again. Can’t hope again just to have it destroyed.”
He turns away.
“Please go.”
Sera wants to stay.
Wants to push.
But she recognizes the edge in his voice.
He’s barely holding himself together.
“Okay,” she says. “But I’m not running, Damien. No matter how hard you push me away.”
She leaves the study.
But not before taking one last look at the portrait of him at nineteen.
The boy who became a monster.
And the man she’s determined to save.
Even if he doesn’t want to be saved.
That night, Sera dreams.
Not of the manor or the curse.
But of a young man with gray eyes and no mask.
Smiling at her in a garden full of flowers instead of dead trees.
Reaching for her hand.
Pulling her close.
“Don’t give up on me,” he whispers. “Please.”
“I won’t,” she promises.
And when she wakes, she knows.
She’s already in too deep.
Already starting to care about the monster in the east wing.
Already hoping that maybe—just maybe—she can be the one to break the curse.
Even though it almost killed Lilith.
Even though Damien has given up.
Even though the full moon is three days away.
She’s going to try.
Because for the first time in her life, Sera isn’t doing something out of obligation.
She’s doing it because she wants to.
Because Damien deserves better than a life of isolation and guilt.
And because somewhere beneath the curse and the pain, there’s still a boy who knows how to smile.
She just has to find him.
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