Prologue
The Cursed Love: The Love That Cursed the Mountain
“What book is that?” Zion asked softly.
Axel didn’t answer at first. He was still somewhere else, caught between the final line and the silence that followed it. Slowly, he lifted his gaze, pushing his reading glasses down the bridge of his nose. A faint, distant smile lingered on his lips before he reached out to his love. The man infront of him.
Zion took his hand without hesitation and let himself be pulled onto the bed, settling beside Axel with an ease that felt like home. “You didn’t even notice me,” Zion murmured, a small pout forming. “You were that lost in it.”Axel let out a quiet breath, something softer than a laugh. “I’m sorry.”
Zion smiled and leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss against Axel’s lips. It was warm, grounding—real and when he pulled back, he paused. There, caught in the dim light, traces of tears.
Zion’s brows knit slightly. “Did you cry?”
Axel didn’t deny it, instead he smile and glanced down at the book in his hands. The cover was worn at the edges, its spine softened by time, like it had been passed down through generations. A keepsake of the Crawfords, though no one quite remembered when it first appeared, or why it was never thrown away.
“Is it really that good?” Zion asked, his voice gentler now.
Axel's thumb brushed over the author’s name. Luca. A simple name. Soft and gentle.The letters of the name felt familiar beneath his touch. Too familiar as if they belonged somewhere deeper than memory.
“It is,” Axel whispered. “But… I don’t think it was ever meant to be an easy story.”
As he shifted the book, his eyes drawn to a page. A handwritten notes on it. The handwriting was steady. Intentional. As if every word had been written with time running out. Zion leaned closer. “What is it?”
Axel didn’t answer, instead, he read the notes carefully. As if it was for him. And something in him stilled.
Then it means I was right to wait.
I don’t know what name you carry now. I don’t know what life you’ve been given.
But I hope, this time— you are not in pain.
I have lived long enough to forget the sound of my own voice, but never yours.
So if you remember nothing else… then let this be enough.
I loved you.
In every lifetime I was allowed to exist, I loved you.
And I will wait,
for as long as time allows,
until you find your way back to me.
Even if it takes another eternity
to hold you in my arms again. My Love, My Kael.
—Luca
Axel’s fingers trembled, just slightly. Not enough to notice.But enough to feel. The tears slipped again.
“…Axel?” Zion’s voice softened. Axel blinked and looked up, as if waking from something he couldn’t fully grasp. "Are you okay?" Zion asked. Hand gently wiping the tears.
“It’s nothing,” Axel murmured. But his voice wasn’t quite steady.He closed the book gently, almost reverently, then pulled Zion closer, guiding him down until Zion’s head rested against his lap. His fingers slipped into Zion’s hair, slow and grounding. As if to tell himself that it is okay. That everything will be okay, for them, and for those people who suffers in the name of love.
“Tell me the story,” Zion whispered. Axel hesitated. His gaze drifted, unfocused. But then he met Zion's eyes, and found his peace. He leaned forward, and gave a quick peck to Zion's eyes, nose, cheek and finally his lips. “I too, would choose you… again and again,” Axel whispered, so softly that Zion almost missed it. “Even if it meant enduring a thousand years of punishment.” Something in his voice shifted. Quiet, but heavy enough to linger.
Zion’s expression then softened, a trace of sadness slipping into his eyes as his hand rose to cup Axel’s cheek. Axel caught it before it could fall away. He turned his head slightly, pressing a slow, lingering kiss into Zion’s palm. Gentle, reverent… as if holding onto something far more fragile than the moment allowed.
“It’s about a boy,” he began softly, “who loved something he was never meant to.” A pause. “And a creature… who waited far longer than anyone should have to.”
The wind brushed softly against the window and for a fleeting second, Axel’s lips parted. As if he was about to say something more. A name, perhaps.
But it never came.
Instead, he exhaled quietly, the feeling slipping through his fingers like something almost remembered. And somewhere, far beyond memory and time, something that had waited for centuries will finally found its way home.
