Chapter 3: Shadows of the Past

Isabella stood in the grand hall long after Lucian had disappeared into the dark recesses of the mansion. Her heart pounded, not just from the cold hatred in his eyes but from the weight of the memories threatening to surface. She had entered this cursed union under duress, but the path that had brought her here was paved with tragedy.

She wrapped her arms around herself, the chill of the mansion seeping into her bones. The flickering firelight made shadows dance on the walls, and for a brief moment, Isabella let her mind slip back in time, to the day her life had changed forever.

---

The carriage jolted as it sped through the pouring rain, the sound of hooves pounding against the cobblestones echoing in the night. Isabella, no more than ten years old, clutched her mother's hand, her wide eyes filled with fear.

"Where are we going?" Isabella asked, her voice trembling. Her mother's hand was cold, trembling just as much as Isabella's.

Her father sat across from them, his face pale and lined with worry. "Somewhere safe," he muttered, though he didn't sound convinced. "We'll be alright, Bella. Just hold on."

But they never made it.

The carriage was ambushed in the dead of night by forces Isabella had never understood. Screams, the clash of steel, and the acrid smell of smoke filled her senses. Her father had tried to protect them, but the shadowy figures were too many, too strong.

Isabella never forgot the last time she saw her mother. Her soft face twisted in terror, begging the attackers to spare her daughter. She remembered the cold night air on her skin as she was dragged from the wreckage of the carriage, her mother's hand slipping from hers. And then... nothing but darkness.

She woke up days later in the care of her aunt, her parents' deaths whispered about but never fully explained. No one told her who the attackers were, or why they had been targeted. Her aunt claimed it was an accident, but Isabella always sensed something deeper, darker.

Her aunt, Lady Drusilla, was nothing like her parents. Cold, cruel, and without a shred of affection, she made it clear that Isabella was nothing more than a burden. For years, Isabella lived in the shadows of her aunt's household, treated more like a servant than family.

"Stop crying," Drusilla would snap whenever Isabella sought comfort. "Your parents are gone. You'd do well to stop dreaming of a life that no longer exists. No one will come for you, no one will care for you. Remember that."

Isabella learned quickly that no one would save her from her cruel aunt. Her childhood ended the day she was forced into that household, her heart growing colder with each passing year.

---

A loud knock echoed through the mansion's hall, snapping Isabella from her memories. She blinked, realizing her hands were trembling slightly. The memories of her parents' deaths still haunted her, a wound that had never truly healed.

Before she could collect herself, a figure appeared from the shadows at the far end of the hall. It was Lucian, his golden eyes cold and distant as always. His presence seemed to fill the room, suffocating in its intensity.

"I see you're still standing there," he said, his voice sharp as a blade. "Hesitating, perhaps? Regretting the life you've been forced into?"

Isabella straightened her posture, refusing to show weakness. "Regret doesn't change anything."

Lucian gave her a disdainful look. "Wise words. But wisdom won't help you here. This place devours hope and leaves nothing but ashes."

"Do you enjoy this?" Isabella asked, her voice edged with frustration. "Pushing people away? Treating me like I'm nothing?"

Lucian's gaze darkened. He stepped closer, his tall frame towering over her as he lowered his voice to a near whisper. "I've long since stopped caring about anyone, Isabella. What happens to you—what happens to this cursed marriage—means nothing to me. You're a part of a deal I didn't make and a life I never wanted."

"And you think I wanted this?" Isabella shot back, her voice rising. "To be dragged into a fate that was decided before I was even born? To lose my parents and end up in the care of a woman who treated me like dirt?"

Lucian's eyes flickered, a brief flash of curiosity breaking through his cold mask. "Your parents?"

Isabella felt her throat tighten, but she pushed on. "They were taken from me when I was just a child. Ambushed. Killed. And no one ever told me why. I was sent to live with my aunt, Lady Drusilla, who made it her mission to remind me every day that I was a burden. That I was nothing."

For a moment, Lucian's expression softened, but it was gone just as quickly. He turned his back to her, walking toward the fire. "Tragic," he muttered, though there was no sympathy in his voice. "But we all have our burdens to bear."

Isabella clenched her fists. "Do you? You, who's been given everything? Power, immortality?"

Lucian whirled around, his eyes blazing. "Power? Immortality? Do you think this is a gift? Do you think living in the shadow of a curse is something I chose? My life has been dictated by forces far darker than you could ever understand, Isabella. I didn't choose to be the devil's son, just as you didn't choose to be his bride."

Isabella met his gaze, her own anger rising to match his. "Then we're not so different, are we?"

Lucian's lips twisted into a cruel smile. "Don't flatter yourself, bride. We are nothing alike. I may be bound by fate, but I am still in control of my own destiny. You, on the other hand, are just another victim of the world's cruelty."

"I survived," Isabella said quietly. "I survived when I wasn't supposed to. And I'll keep surviving, no matter how hard you try to push me away."

Lucian's eyes lingered on her for a moment, something unreadable passing through them. Then, with a flick of his hand, he dismissed her. "Do what you wish. Just stay out of my way."

He turned and vanished into the shadows once more, leaving Isabella standing alone in the cold hall. As she stared after him, a new resolve began to form within her.

This mansion was full of secrets. And Lucian, for all his coldness and cruelty, was hiding something. If she was going to survive in this place, she needed to understand him.

And perhaps, somewhere in those shadows, she would find the answers to her own past as well.