The shadow moved even though the dress did not.
Amina stepped back, her voice barely a whisper. "Is that supposed to happen?"
"No," Kael said tightly, standing fully now, his hand glowing brighter than before. "That's not part of the original curse."
The room dropped in temperature. Frost began to creep along the edges of the floorboards, trailing out from the gown's hem like fingers searching for something — or someone.
Then the shadow lifted its head.
It didn't have a face. It didn't need one.
Amina's blood turned to ice.
Kael moved in front of her instinctively. "It's a shade — a spellborn echo. The curse was stronger than we thought."
The shadow tilted its head, mimicking Kael's movement.
Amina clutched the enchanted scissors in her hand. "If I stab it, will it die?"
"It's not really alive."
"Okay, but will it go away?"
Kael smirked, even as his magic hummed louder. "Try it and let's find out."
Amina surged forward. Her scissors sliced through the fabric — and through the shadow's chest.
It let out a soundless scream.
The candles flickered back to life. The frost melted instantly. The shadow unraveled like smoke in the wind.
Silence.
Kael looked impressed. "Remind me not to get on your bad side."
Amina dropped the scissors, breathing hard. "Remind me never to take mysterious commissions again."
They sat on the studio floor, backs against the wall, the destroyed gown lying in a heap.
Kael finally broke the quiet. "You did something impossible tonight."
"I cursed myself?"
"You broke a bloodbinding spell without being trained. That shouldn't be possible."
Amina glanced at him. "Then how did I do it?"
He hesitated. "There's a rumor — about Threadbinders. People who can stitch magic into fabric without runes or training. It's supposed to be a myth."
"I've been called worse."
"You might be the first real one in centuries."
She laughed, tired but honest. "Lucky me."
Kael turned to face her fully now, his expression softer. "I came here to destroy the curse. I didn't expect to meet someone like you."
Amina raised a brow. "Clumsy? Sarcastic? Sleep-deprived?"
"Powerful," he said simply. "And kind."
That shut her up.
For a moment, the quiet between them wasn't uncomfortable. It was… warm.
Then he stood, offering her a hand.
"There's still one thing left to do," he said.
She took it. "What's that?"
"We find out who tried to use you."