For centuries, I have been trapped in a cycle I never chose. A piece of his soul was buried inside me long ago, binding me to him in ways I don't understand, in ways I can never escape. Each time I am reborn, I find him again. Or rather, he finds me. No matter who I become, no matter where fate leads me, he is always there—waiting. Watching. Loving. And every time, I fall into his arms, drawn to him like a force beyond my control. We are married, destined, and lived a happily ever after. But my last life was different. He'd... changed. He betrayed my love. He left me buried in his lies and manipulations. This time, I was stolen before he could reach me, sold to a man who sees me as nothing more than property. And now, as I stand before the one who has always claimed me, I feel nothing but defiance. I do not remember loving him. I do not remember belonging to him. I don't want to, not after what happened before. And yet, deep down, something inside me stirs, something ancient, something terrifying. Because even if I don't remember him—I can feel that he remembers me. This life, he ensured I would forget. He stripped away my memories, erasing the love, the pain, the countless lifetimes we spent tangled in fate. He did it to keep me his—to stop me from running, from resisting, from trying to break the cycle of our forbidden passion.
I glare at him, my breath shallow, my body tensed to run—but where? There's nowhere left to go. The storm outside rages like a warning, and inside, he stands in front of me, immovable. Unstoppable. His presence alone makes the air feel heavier, suffocating, as if the shadows in the room bend to his will.
His gaze flickers, and for the first time tonight, there's something unreadable in his expression. Something old. Ancient. "You still don't remember, do you?" he murmurs, his voice lower now, almost gentle. "You've never been free of me, and you never will be."
I scoff, shaking my head. "You're delusional."
He exhales slowly, his lips curling into something between a smirk and something… softer. "You think this is the first time?" he whispers, stepping closer, his fingertips ghosting over the pulse at my throat. "Every lifetime, you fight. Every lifetime, you run. And every time, I find you again."
His words send a shiver down my spine. "What are you talking about?"
He watches me, as if waiting for recognition to spark in my eyes. And then, he speaks the words that shatter my world.
"You have a piece of my soul buried in your heart."
I freeze. The room, the storm, even the blood trickling down my arm—it all fades into nothing. His voice is all I hear, wrapping around me like a curse.
"You were never just a girl," he continues, eyes burning into mine. "You were made from me. Your soul is the same one I have loved and lost for centuries. You have died in my arms, only to return to me again." His fingers trail over my wrist, a touch that feels almost reverent. "You belong to me, because you are me."
I shake my head, stepping back, my breathing uneven. "No. That's not—That's impossible."
He tilts his head, almost amused. "Is it?"
My mind is a whirlwind of confusion, but deep down, something clicks. Something inside me recoils, yet another part of me stirs—memories I don't quite have, but feel as though they were once mine. A whisper of hands reaching for me in another life. A promise made under the stars. A wedding veil soaked in blood.
Every lifetime.
He watches me, waiting for me to piece it together. Waiting for me to admit what he already knows.
"I am the God of Death," he says, voice like silk, like a blade pressed to my throat. "I have walked this earth for centuries, untouchable, unstoppable. But I fell in love with a mortal." His eyes darken. "I fell in love with you."
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.
"You were never meant to leave me. Every life, we are bound together, drawn back to each other." His lips part, and I swear, for just a second, I see something almost vulnerable beneath the ice of his expression. "But this life… this life, something changed."
I know what he means. This life, I wasn't given to him. Not after what he did to me.
I was sold to someone else.
A cold wave of nausea rolls over me. My father, desperate to pay his debts, gave me away to a monster—a different monster. A man with no mercy, no love, no claim on my soul, but who took me anyway. The walls of my prison had been lined with silk and gold, but a cage is still a cage.
And so I ran.
I ran until my lungs burned, until the world blurred. I ran without knowing where I was going, only that I had to go.
And somehow… I ended up here. In this house.
With him.
My heart pounds in my chest. I don't know whether it's fear, rage, or something far more dangerous.
"You knew," I whisper, realization striking me like a dagger. "You knew I would come here."
He nods, slow and deliberate. "Of course."
Of course. Because no matter how many times I die, no matter how many times I run, no matter how hard I fight—
He will always find me.