The moonlight clung to my skin as the change washed over me—wings folding into arms, feathers dissolving into pale hands. I barely had time to steady myself before the water stirred and he appeared on the shore.

Rothbart’s silhouette was huge against the trees, all sharp angles and dark magic flickering under his cloak. He smiled as though he’d been waiting for this moment all night. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” he said. “Such a shame to waste it.”

I stepped back, clutching the fabric of my dress. “What do you want?”

“What I’ve always wanted,” he said, voice warm like poison. “Say yes. Marry me. End this little curse. You could walk free again. No more feathers, no more lake.” His hand lifted as if offering freedom itself.

For a heartbeat, I felt the ache of what he dangled in front of me—sunlit mornings, real footsteps, my own life returned.

But then I saw the hunger in his eyes. The crown he imagined on his head.

“No,” I said. “I won’t give you the kingdom. Not even for my freedom.”

His smile curdled. The air tightened, the water shivered. “Then enjoy your little pond,” he hissed, turning away as the curse tugged at my spine again.

The moon wavered above me. My voice was already fading into the shape of a swan.