Javier's POV
I stood by the tall window of my mother's study, hands clasped behind my back, eyes fixed on the distant treeline. The blood on my gloves had dried hours ago, but I hadn't bothered to take them off.
The door creaked open behind me.
"Aún no ha despertado."
Without turning around, I knew it was my mother, her voice sharp, prying as always. From the glass, I watched her slowly move forward, the rich train of her gown brushing the floor with each step.
I did not reply. I only stared at the window, unmoving. When I felt her drawing closer, I whirled around, stopping her in her tracks. She looked up at me and sighed.
"Always the same, mi hijo... as if the blood on thy hands hath frozen thy heart along with it."
I held her gaze, blank and cold, before shifting it toward the large portrait hanging above the mantel — my mother and father standing side by side. The same eyes. The same calculating glint.
"Hath the physician been summoned?"
I tore my gaze from the picture, meeting hers again. She was already watching me, eyes narrowed, mouth pressed thin. That look. I knew it well. A woman always plotting, always weighing her next move.
"He has... but how long dost thou plan to grace us with thy presence, my son?"
She moved to the chair by the fire and settled into it, her hands folding neatly on her lap.
My lips twitched.
"Art thou chasing me away, Madre?"
"You are already chasing thyself away." Her face remained blank, but the edge in her voice was unmistakable. "I'm quite flattered you remembered I exist at all."
"Hmm." I raked my bloodied hand through my hair, leaving faint streaks of crimson behind. "Do not flatter thyself, Mother. It is but a duty... for a son to seek his mother's blessing upon the new bride, is it not?"
Her fingers clenched around the folds of her gown. A small victory. I savored it.
But then…
The sensation crept in. That damned tingling beneath my skin.
I stiffened.
Outside, the sun hung low on the horizon, not yet the sixth hour, but close. Too close.
I pushed off the wall, making my way toward the door.
"You're just like him."
Her voice was softer now, almost a whisper.
I smiled without turning around.
"No, Madre." My hand gripped the handle. "That's where thou art mistaken... I'm just like thee."
Her breath caught, barely, but I heard it.
I paused, glancing over my shoulder.
"And I do not wish to be disturbed. No one enters my chamber tonight. Tomorrow, thou shalt give thy blessings... without fuss."
Without waiting for her reply, I shut the door behind me.
Capitán Alonso stood just outside, stiff and alert. His sharp eyes flicked to my face, reading the unspoken command.
It was time.
We marched swiftly through the winding halls. The tingling burned hotter beneath my skin, seeping into my bones. By the time we reached my chamber, it was almost unbearable.
I pushed the door open, stepping inside. Alonso followed without question, moving to shutter the windows.
Behind me, the lock clicked into place.
And then...
It began.
He quickly rushed out of the room, and the clicking sound of the lock echoed through the chamber, sealing me in.
Then it struck.
A searing pain slammed into my chest, stealing the breath from my lungs. I staggered back, gripping the wall for support, but the relief was fleeting. The next wave hit harder, my stomach twisting as though unseen hands clawed from within.
It spread, crawling beneath my skin. My eyes. My nose. Every part of me burned, as if my body no longer belonged to me.
The pain was unbearable.
I fell to my knees, the only thing that could ever bring me to my knees. My fingers clawed at my face, but there was nothing left. No eyes. No nose. No mouth. Just smooth, blank flesh beneath my touch.
Yet I lived.
Blind and broken, I crawled toward the bed, dragging myself onto it. Darkness swallowed me whole. My limbs thrashed, sheets tangled around me as the curse whispered through my ears, the same haunting words that had bound me for years.
"By night one way, by day another. This shall be the norm... until thou findest true redemption."
The voice lingered, cold, cruel, a ghost of the past I could never outrun.
I clenched my fists against the bed, biting down the loud groan rising in my throat. The night had claimed me once again.
And then the pain stopped, all at once.
The silence that followed was louder than the torment that had just ravaged me.
I couldn't see anything at first, only darkness, but I could feel it. The shift. The curse wrapped its claws tighter around my soul.
I had changed.
Not Rey Javier anymore.
Something else.
My chest rose and fell slowly as I opened my eyes. The ceiling loomed higher than before, the room stretching larger around me.
I pushed myself off the bed, bare feet meeting the cold floor. The sensation was different this time, fragile, smaller... weaker.
I hated this form.
I walked toward the door, fingers curling around the handle. Locked. Alonso had made sure of that. He always did.
I turned back around, my steps slower, more cautious. The heavy curtain hung before the window, blocking the moonlight. I reached out and pulled it apart, letting silver light flood the chamber.
And there it was, my reflection in the glass.
A figure with wide, dark eyes stared back at me. Smaller limbs. Delicate features. Skin pale beneath the moonlight.
The first time I had seen it...
I had stared, frozen, as if looking too long
would make it disappear.
But it never did.
Now, I only stared.
It had been years. The horror had faded. The confusion had turned into acceptance. This was my curse, various lives bound to one soul.
With a steady hand, I pushed the window open. Cool night air brushed against my face.
My chambers were high, far above the ground, but fear was something I had long discarded.
Without a second thought, I climbed onto the ledge and jumped.