A prince cursed to turn into stone by day falls for a gardener tending the magical roses in his castle grounds. Together, they seek the key to breaking the curse before it's too late
A prince cursed to turn into stone by day falls for a gardener tending the magical roses in his castle grounds. Together, they seek the key to breaking the curse before it's too late
Prince Alistair stood in the garden of his castle, his gaze fixed on the horizon, where the first rays of the morning sun began to stretch across the sky. He could feel it already-the cold tightening in his limbs, creeping up his spine like a silent thief. The warmth of his human form would soon fade, replaced by the stillness of stone.
It had become his routine, this slow, inevitable transformation. The curse that bound him to the stone form every morning had not been kind. There had been no warning, no mercy. One day he had simply woken, and the sun had not only burned away the night but his very freedom as well. By day, he was nothing more than a statue, a monument of stone standing rigidly in the palace courtyard. But by night, when the moon rose high in the sky, he was restored to his human shape-alive, aware, but only for a few fleeting hours before the curse claimed him again.
His fingers twitched, but the stone creeping up his skin held them stiff, unwilling to move. He looked down at the stone veins spreading across his hand, the transformation slowly, inexorably taking hold. He could hear the distant hum of the castle, the hustle and bustle of his kingdom continuing as if nothing were wrong. But it wasn't the same for him. His life had been paused in an eternal struggle between moments of life and stone, his heart cursed to love and be loved by none.
His eyes flicked toward the garden, where the roses-magical roses, or so the old legends claimed-grew wild and unkempt. Their petals shimmered faintly in the early morning light, their fragrance rich with the promise of something beyond the mundane, something that had long intrigued him.
A figure moved between the rosebushes-a gardener, he noticed, working diligently amidst the flowers, trimming and tending to the plants. She wore no crown or jewels, no silk gown like the ladies of his court. Her clothes were simple-earthy tones of brown and green, a stark contrast to the gleaming castle walls behind her. But there was something captivating about her movements, something graceful in the way she bent to the earth, as though she belonged more to the roses than the castle.
It was only when the sun began to rise higher, casting deeper shadows across the stone courtyard, that the transformation began to take hold of him fully. The last vestige of his human warmth slipped away, and he felt himself stiffen, his body locking in place as if frozen in time.
Alistair knew that if he did not leave the garden soon, the curse would claim him completely, turning him into an unmoving statue for the rest of the day. But something about the gardener's presence kept him rooted to the spot. Perhaps it was the way she worked so tirelessly, lost in the rhythm of tending the roses. Or perhaps it was the unspoken connection he felt, a pull that had been there since she had first arrived at the castle weeks ago.
Her name, he knew, was Elara. She had been hired by the king to maintain the enchanted garden that had been a part of the castle grounds for centuries. The garden was more than just a place of beauty-it was said that the roses held strange and powerful magic, and some even whispered that they were the key to unlocking long-lost secrets of the world.
Elara was a mystery. While the rest of the court gossiped about her, questioning her origins and her purpose, she remained quiet, focused only on her work. Her gentle hands caressed the petals with a tenderness that seemed at odds with the hard labor she performed, yet she never faltered, never seemed to tire.
Alistair's heart sank as he watched her, knowing he couldn't stay much longer. The moment the sun crested fully over the horizon, he would turn to stone, unable to move, to speak, to feel. It was a fate that had imprisoned him for years, and there seemed to be no way out.
But something changed that morning. Just as the last of the warmth drained from his body, leaving him cold and unmoving, Elara looked up. Her eyes met his for the briefest of moments, and for the first time in weeks, Alistair felt something stir within him-a flicker of recognition. Her gaze lingered on him longer than expected, her brow furrowing in confusion as if she, too, felt the strange pull between them.
The moment was short-lived. The sun crested high enough that the curse took full effect. Alistair could feel his body lock, the stone replacing flesh, his breath no longer able to draw. His vision blurred as he stood motionless, unable to do anything but watch as Elara's form slowly disappeared from his view.
The hours dragged by. He stood in the garden, no longer a man, but a figure of cold marble. The world passed around him-nobles strolling by, birds chirping, the sounds of the kingdom continuing as they always did. But for him, time had ceased to exist. He was neither alive nor dead, caught in the endless loop of his curse.
When the sun finally began to set, a chill in the air signaling the night's approach, the transformation reversed. His body began to soften, the stone receding as warmth returned to his limbs. He inhaled deeply, his chest expanding as his lungs filled with air. He was human again.
But Elara was gone.
He had spent the entire day as stone, his thoughts consumed with her-her presence, her gaze. She had noticed him, truly noticed him, for the first time. He couldn't help but wonder what she thought of him now, what she might say when they next met.
For a moment, he allowed himself the small luxury of hope. Perhaps, just perhaps, she was more than just a gardener. Perhaps she was the key to breaking the curse that held him captive in stone.
And if she was, he would find a way to reach her.
In a kingdom where nobles wear enchanted masks that define their roles and status, the protagonist-a commoner with the rare ability to craft living masks-becomes entangled in palace intrigue when they are commissioned to create a mask for a reclusive prince cursed never to see sunlight. As the protagonist works on the mask, they uncover a hidden world of magic, betrayal, and a growing bond with the prince. Their love becomes the key to breaking the curse, but doing so could destabilize the entire kingdom. Together, they must navigate a treacherous path where one wrong move could mean losing not just their love, but their lives.
She came to survive. He was born to rule. Fate made them mates. And that's where the nightmare began. Evangeline has spent her whole life on the edge, unwanted, unclaimed, and surviving in the shadows of Crescent Moon Pack. A omega by blood and an outcast by choice, she's learned to keep her head down and her scars hidden. But when her dying uncle asks her to enroll at Blackclaw Academy, a school built on bloodlines, brutality, and unforgiving rules..... she agrees. For him, not for herself. She expected whispers. Glares. Even cruelty. What she didn't expect was Ronan Nightbane. The future Alpha. Cold. Untouchable. Worshipped. Feared. And the one the Moon Goddess bound her soul to. Being his mate should've meant protection. Belonging. Destiny. But Ronan wants none of it. He rejects her in front of the entire academy. Mocks her. Marks her as nothing more than a mistake. A threat. A girl born of nothing, who means even less. But Evangeline? She doesn't break. Not for him. Not for anyone. Because the power buried inside her was never meant to be found. The truth behind her blood could burn the entire pack system to the ground. And Ronan, no matter how hard he fights it.... can't stay away. Their bond is poisonous. Addictive. Dangerous. And when war creeps closer and secrets claw their way into the light, he'll have to make a brutal choice: Reject her... or ruin them both.
After seven years in a dungeon for a crime I didn't commit, my fated mate, the Alpha who let them drag me away, finally opened my cell door. He announced I would take my place as his Luna, not out of love, but because the law demanded it. But the moment a frantic mind-link came through that his precious Seraphina-my adopted sister, the one who framed me-was having trouble breathing, he abandoned me without a second glance. That night, huddled in a dusty shack, I overheard my own parents' secret conversation. They were planning to have me exiled. Permanently. My return had upset Seraphina, and her "weak heart" couldn't take the shock. I lay there in the darkness, feeling nothing. Not surprise. Not even pain. Just a profound, empty coldness. They were casting me out. Again. But as they plotted my exile, a secret message arrived for me-an offer of escape. A new life in a sanctuary far to the north, where I could leave the Blackmoon Pack behind forever. They thought they were getting rid of me. Little did they know, I was already gone.
Josie Watson asked for a divorce for the ninety-ninth time, but Laurence Andrews took a call from his first love and told her to get out of the car. "Go home and think it over. I hope this is the last time you make a fuss," he said. For Rosalie Harris, he abandoned Josie repeatedly, humiliating her. Laurence believed Josie couldn't survive without him. He didn't know Rosalie's brother was secretly encouraging Josie to divorce and leave the country.
After hiding her true identity throughout her three-year marriage to Colton, Allison had committed wholeheartedly, only to find herself neglected and pushed toward divorce. Disheartened, she set out to rediscover her true self-a talented perfumer, the mastermind of a famous intelligence agency, and the heir to a secret hacker network. Realizing his mistakes, Colton expressed his regret. "I know I messed up. Please, give me another chance." Yet, Kellan, a once-disabled tycoon, stood up from his wheelchair, took Allison's hand, and scoffed dismissively, "You think she'll take you back? Dream on."
To the public, she was the CEO's executive secretary. Behind closed doors, she was the wife he never officially acknowledged. Jenessa was elated when she learned that she was pregnant. But that joy was replaced with dread as her husband, Ryan, showered his affections on his first love. With a heavy heart, she chose to set him free and leave. When they met again, Ryan's attention was caught by Jenessa's protruding belly. "Whose child are you carrying?!" he demanded. But she only scoffed. "It's none of your business, my dear ex-husband!"
During Kiera's wedding, she and her sister plunged into the water. Stunned, she watched her fiancé yank only the sister to safety and walk off without a glance. Blazing with fury, Kiera married the stranger who pulled her from the water-a broke mechanic-and promised to provide for him, no matter the cost! Her ex sneered, "Dump him. Get back with me; my wife will still be you." Her scheming sister purred, "I'll keep your fiancé company. Enjoy your life with a mechanic." Kiera shut them down. "Leave us alone. We're good together." Then the twist hit: the "mechanic" was a secret billionaire! In front of the world, he knelt with a one-of-a-kind diamond. "My love, I'll cherish you for life."
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