The wind howls through the trees as I force my feet to move, the weight of his stare still burning into my skin. His presence lingers like a dark fog, a reminder that I have never truly escaped him. Not in this life. Not in the countless ones before it.
But this time, I won't let him pull me back.
I wrap my arms around myself as I step deeper into the woods, my breath curling into the cold night air. My thoughts are a storm—memories I shouldn't have, images slipping through my mind like threads of silk. The sensation of cold steel plunging into my chest. The warmth of golden light. A voice, soft but powerful, whispering to me.
"If you wish to break the cycle, you must destroy the piece of him inside you."
I will. I will drive a dagger through my own heart, over and over again, in every lifetime, until the bond is severed. And it will work. Each time, his power will weaken. Each time, the world will become a little less his.
This is the only way. The only escape.
If I can take away the piece of him buried inside me, he will lose his hold. And if I do it enough times, if I keep killing myself before he can claim me again—he will disappear.
For good.
The realization is like ice in my veins.
He had ensured I lost my memories. That was how he did it. He had taken me before I could remember, twisted fate in his favor. This time, he made sure I wouldn't try to fight him. Wouldn't try to ruin our so-called forbidden passion.
I clutch my chest as I stumble forward. The pain of the past, the weight of the truth—it's suffocating. But I can't stop.
I need to find him.
Not him. Not the monster in the estate. Not the God of Death who has claimed me for eternity.
I need to find the other one. The one who saved me before. The one who told me how to escape.
The God of Life.
I stare at my own reflection in the cracked mirror, the candlelight flickering against my pale skin. The weight of my past—no, our past—claws at my chest, a phantom pain of lives long lost. My heart beats, steady but burdened, carrying something that does not belong to me. A piece of him. A curse woven into my very existence.
For the first time in lifetimes, I have a way out. A way to escape him. A way to be free.
The candle flickers. A gust of wind slips through the cracked window, carrying a presence that tightens my spine.
He's close.
I feel him before I hear him—the weight of an eternity pressing down on my shoulders. My skin prickles with the sensation of being watched. A shiver crawls down my spine as his voice, smooth as velvet, cuts through the silence.
"You're thinking of running again, aren't you, sweetheart?"
I whirl around, my pulse slamming against my ribs. He stands there, cloaked in shadow, the god of death himself. Tall, unyielding, the very thing that haunts my dreams. His dark eyes burn into mine, unreadable, unwavering.