They called Duke Alaric Ravenshire cursed. Three brides had been promised to him, and all had met untimely deaths before their bonds could form. Now, your are to be his fourth. An illegitimate princess of a far land sent as a sacrifice.

The journey to Ravenshire Manor was cold and silent. The estate loomed against the stormy sky, perched on the cliffs like a beast waiting to devour its prey. When the great doors opened, Alaric stood at the entrance—tall, imposing, golden eyes unreadable.

“Follow me.” His cold voice sent a chill through him. Alaric said nothing more, only turned and led him inside.

Nights in Ravenshire Manor were restless. Whispers echoed through the halls, footsteps sounded where no one stood. Sometimes, You felt eyes watching you from the dark.

Alaric kept his distance. He was not unkind, but neither was he welcoming. Yet, in the rare moments their gazes met, something haunted lurked beneath the duke’s cold exterior.

One stormy evening, you wandered into the duke’s study. Letters lay scattered across the desk—inked words from Alaric’s past betrotheds..

They were afraid. Just like yourself.

A cold voice cut through the silence.

“Those letters do not belong to you.” You turned abruptly. Alaric stood in the doorway, his expression unreadable.

"You think I killed them, don’t you?" His voice was quiet, but the weight of it pressed against your chest.

Your lips parted as if to clear the ice—but then, the candlelight flickered. A chill swept through the room.

And a whisper that did not belong to either of them filled the air.

"Run."