His grip on her wrist was firm, not out of malice, but control — like he was savouring the moment.

“You look surprised,” he mused, tilting his head. “Did you really think you could escape the past that easily?”

Her breath came in sharp gasps. “You… you planned this?”

A slow smile spread across his lips, and the amusement in his eyes turned to something darker.

“Oh, I did more than plan, Princess. I made sure history would repeat itself.”

Her stomach dropped.

“You think your precious lover is the only one with blood on his hands?” His voice was almost teasing, a cruel mockery of their past. “Poor thing. You never even knew the truth.”

Her body stiffened. “What do you mean?”

He leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper.

“He never killed you of his own will. I made him do it.”

Her heart skipped a beat.

Shadows in the Dark

He was still searching for her.

The city was too quiet. His mind was too loud.

His footsteps echoed in the alleys as he moved, scanning every shadow, every street.

He had never been afraid of losing something before.

But the thought of losing her — this time, in this life — was enough to rip him apart.

“Where are you?”

A sudden, familiar sensation clawed at his spine.

Something was wrong.

His body went rigid.

A presence.

Not just anyone.

His fingers twitched, instincts flaring to life. This feeling — this suffocating weight in the air — he knew it too well.

Someone else was here.

And then he heard it.

Her voice.

Tensed. Uneasy.

And someone else’s voice — one that did not belong in this lifetime.

His eyes darkened.

“It’s him.”

His breath stilled for only a second before his body moved.

He had to get to her. Now.

A Past That Won’t Stay Buried

“You’re lying,” she hissed, but even as the words left her lips, she felt the cracks forming in her mind.

“Am I?” His fingers traced the inside of her wrist, a predator toying with his prey. “Think back, Princess. Remember that night. The way his hands shook. The way his eyes begged for something — anything — other than what he was forced to do.”

The memories hit her like a blade to the chest.

The look in his eyes. The way his fingers had trembled as he drove the sword into her. The way his breath had hitched, as if he was breaking along with her.

No.

No, it couldn’t be —

“He was never your executioner,” the man whispered. “He was just another pawn in my game.”

A cold shudder ran through her.

“You… you set him up.”

He smiled. “And I did it so beautifully, don’t you think?”

Her blood boiled.

“You used him.”

“Oh, I did more than that. I made sure that no matter how many lives passed, you two would never escape the tragedy I wove for you.”

She felt sick.

He had played them both. Manipulated them both. Turned them into the very things they feared the most.

And now, here he was again.

“Why?” she breathed.

“Revenge.” His eyes darkened. “For what you two did to me.”

But before she could even find the words to respond, the air shifted.

A presence.

A dark, familiar, all-consuming presence.

And then —

“Let. Her. Go.”

Her captor barely had time to turn before a fist connected with his face.

The force sent him staggering back, his grip finally breaking.

And standing there, his breathing ragged, his expression unreadable, was him.

Her protector.

Her executioner.

The man who had once loved her and destroyed her — now standing between her and another ghost from their past.

Their eyes met.

And for the first time that night, she wasn’t sure who she feared more.