Here is Chapter Two of Love You? Even
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The dream returned, but it no longer felt like just a dream.
This time, Lyra stood not in a field, but in a crumbling temple suspended in the sky. The pillars were carved with symbols she didn't recognize, yet her hands instinctively traced them with aching familiarity. The wind howled with voices—some pleading, others warning.
A mirror lay shattered at her feet, and in each shard, a different version of herself stared back. Warrior. Priestess. Queen. Girl.
And in the center of the broken pieces—Kael. Bleeding. Waiting.
She knelt to touch the mirror, but her reflection whispered something that made her freeze:
"Don't trust the stars this time."
She jolted awake.
The sunrise bled through her window, golden and soft, but Lyra couldn't shake the chill curling down her spine. Her body ached like she'd run for miles. And when she looked at her palms, they were covered in tiny red marks—thin, almost imperceptible lines, like cuts.
But she hadn't injured herself. Had she?
Downstairs, her grandmother was humming softly, brewing tea. The scent of hibiscus and clove filled the air, comforting and nostalgic. Lyra paused in the kitchen doorway, watching her.
"Gran… do you believe in past lives?"
The old woman didn't even look up. "What brought that question on?"
"I… I think I've been dreaming about someone I knew before. A long time ago." She hesitated. "Kael."
Her grandmother finally turned, eyes sharp and unreadable.
"Names carry weight, Lyra. Be careful which ones you remember."
Lyra blinked. "What's that supposed to mean?"
But her grandmother only sipped her tea and turned back to the window.
School felt like a fog. Everyone moved in slow motion, the buzz of chatter fading behind the louder rhythm of Lyra's thoughts. Kael had said this wasn't the first time. That something always tore them apart. She wanted to demand answers—but a part of her feared what she'd find.
Still, she found herself searching the halls, her eyes catching every shadow, every silhouette.
When she spotted him leaning against the rusted gates outside the library after final period, her heart nearly tripped over itself.
Kael looked up as if he already knew she'd be there.
"Walk with me?" he asked.
They walked in silence for a while, feet crunching through fallen leaves. Autumn painted the world in colors that felt like memory—soft golds, burnt crimson, dusky browns. The chill in the air was sharp but pleasant, like something alive.
"I remembered something," she said finally. "A temple. Floating. Mirrors. Versions of me, all different… but still me."
Kael didn't speak for a moment.
Then: "I saw that place once. In my own dreams. It's where you died, last time."
Her breath caught.
He stopped walking, turning to face her. His voice was steady, but something fierce shimmered beneath it.
"They always find us. Whatever curse this is, whatever fate thinks it's doing—we've never broken it. But we get closer every time."
"Who are they?"
Kael looked up at the gray sky. "The Keepers of the Rift. They were guardians once. Of time, of fate, of memory. But something changed. They grew afraid of us—of what we became when we remembered. So, they scattered us across the lifetimes."
Lyra shook her head slowly. "This sounds insane."
"I know," he said softly. "But don't you feel it? The way the world pulls around us when we're close? How your dreams feel more like memories?"
She stared at him. "Why now?"
Kael's expression darkened. "Because this time, something's different. I've already remembered too much, too early. And if they know that, they'll try to erase you again."
Her heart thudded painfully. "Erase me?"
"Wipe your memory. Or worse."
She didn't want to believe it—but deep down, something stirred. Something old and bruised, like a scar beneath her skin.
They stopped by the edge of the woods, where the sun barely touched the earth through the gnarled trees.
"You said we get closer each time," Lyra said quietly. "So what happens if we get too close?"
Kael looked at her, and this time, there was no hiding the truth.
"One of us dies. Sometimes both."
The wind picked up, scattering leaves around their feet.
"And you still came back?" she whispered.
"I'd come back a thousand times," Kael said, stepping closer. "Even if it ends the same. I'd choose you. Every time."
Something inside her trembled—shattered—reformed.
A flash. A heartbeat.
She remembered standing beneath a violet sky, her hands glowing with light, Kael behind her, his voice raw: "We only get this one moment, Lyra. Don't waste it."
Another lifetime. Another ending.
She reached out, fingertips brushing his. It felt like plugging into lightning and grief all at once.
"I don't want to die again," she whispered.
Kael's hand closed around hers. "Then we fight this time."
Suddenly, the trees behind them rustled violently. Birds exploded from the branches.
Kael shoved her back instinctively just as something darted past—black, fast, nearly invisible.
A shape? A shadow?
They spun around, but nothing remained. Only a scorch mark in the soil where the thing had passed.
"They're close," Kael murmured.
Lyra's breath shook. "That… wasn't human, was it?"
"No." He looked around. "They're testing how much we've remembered. Next time, it won't be a warning."
He pulled a small, jagged crystal from his coat and handed it to her. It pulsed faintly in her palm.
"What is this?"
"A memory anchor," he said. "If you start forgetting me again… hold it. It might help."
She clutched it tightly. "I'm not letting them take you from me again."
Kael smiled then—not sad, not broken. Just real.
"We have until the eclipse," he said quietly. "That's when the Rift opens. When the veil between this life and the last is weakest."
"When is it?"
"Twenty-eight days."
Lyra felt the world shift under her feet.
Four weeks. That was all the time they had.
But as Kael laced his fingers with hers and pulled her close, she knew something had changed.
This time, they weren't running.
This time, they were going to fight fate.
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