Luca let out a long sigh and stretched, resting his head against the velvet headboard. The morning light spilled across the bed, catching the delicate curves of Emilia's body where she lay beside him. She wore the soft rose-colored lingerie he had gifted her the week before, and in that quiet moment, she looked like a work of art that had come to life—so beautiful and fragile.
He watched her breathe for a while, chest rising and falling rhythmically. Luca remembered the many nights he had crept into her hospital room just to sit beside her bed and listen to that very sound. It had been after the accident—the night it happened felt like a cruel twist of fate. She had been on her way to work, just another routine drive, a truck ran a red light and threw her to the other side of the road.
Luca had felt it before the call came. The pain in his chest was sharp and sudden. He ran to her side the moment he learned of her accident. He also stayed with her in the hospital room, filled with machines and the scent of antiseptic, he whispered ancient protection spells, hoping something—anything—would keep her with him. Luca blamed himself for not watching his blood mate closely but now, he had a better chance to look after her.
Emilia stirred on the bed, her body rousing.
Her eyes fluttered open slowly, and a small smile curved her lips. "You're staring again," she murmured.
"I always do," he said, brushing a strand of hair off her cheek.
Do I drool in my sleep?" she asked with a playful smile.
Luca chuckled. "Only when you're dreaming about grilled cheese."
She rolled her eyes, stretching lazily. "That's oddly specific."
"Because you mumbled about it once," he teased, leaning in to kiss her forehead. "It was cute."
They lay quietly for a few moments. Emilia rolled toward him, pressing her hand to his bare chest. "Do you find me sexy?"
"Yes...a million times," Luca said with a smirk, "I even fed on your sexiness when you were unconscious. That, Emiliais how sexy you are."
He kissed her neck, her cheeks and her lips as he said the last words.
She laughed, the sound soft and warm. "Do you ever wonder?"
"About what?"
"If we weren't bonded," she said, sitting up a little. "Would you still love me?"
Luca sat up too, resting his elbow on the pillow. "That's a dangerous question, Emilia."
She gave him a look, half teasing and half curious. "Answer it anyway."
He took a moment, genuinely considering it. "I would love you even if fate hadn't pulled us together. The bond only confirmed what I already knew. The moment I saw you, I felt something. I didn't need magic to tell me you were mine."
Her face turned pink, and she tried to hide her smile by turning away. "Ugh. Why are you so good at this?"
"At what?" he asked.
"Making me fall in love with you all over again."
He pulled her back down, kissing her lips gently.
Breakfast came shortly after. They sat at the long dining table, the smell of toast and brewed herbs in the air. Vivienne sat on the far end, slicing a piece of meat.
Luca scanned the room and frowned. "Where's Cyrus?"
Vivienne didn't look up from her drink. "You tell me. You know the guy has been distant and spends more time alone lately. I'd say he's brooding, but that would be an understatement."
Emilia didn't speak, but she gave a subtle nod toward the corner where Jet, her favorite bat, roosted. He perked up immediately, then spread his wings and vanished into the hallway.
Luca raised a brow. "Sending your little spy?"
"Just making sure he's alright," she said casually.
If anyone could find Cyrus faster, it would be Jet.
Emilia needed to know what Cyrus was up to and if he would do anything to betray the family or threaten her. If he tried anything sinister, she would be the one to end him
***
Later, while organizing books in the study area of her bedroom, Emilia paused at the top shelf where an old velvet box rested. Inside it was the silver locket Luca had given her the day they met. She had stopped wearing it for reasons she couldn't explain—it had felt... heavy. But today, with the oath renewal coming, it felt right.
She unclasped it and brought it to her neck.
The moment the cold metal touched her skin, her eyes widened. The locket slipped from her fingers and dangled. Her pupils faded to white.
In an instant, she was elsewhere.
She stood in the middle of a dark forest. Mist wrapped around the trees like fingers, and the wind whispered her name. In front of her was an ornate mirror, tall and silver-rimmed, resting between the roots of a tree. Her reflection stared back, calm and curious.
She lifted her hand. The reflection did the same.
Then, slowly, it changed. Her mirrored self began to smirk, even as Emilia remained still. Then it tilted its head and stepped out from the glass, barefoot, moving with elegance and mischief.
The mirrored Emilia began to dance—a haunting, graceful sway of arms and legs. She twirled, laughed, and ran around her.
And then, in the shadows, Vivienne appeared. Her expression was grim. She didn't look at the real Emilia. Her eyes were locked on the dancing reflection. Disgust lined her face. Disapproval so sharp, Emilia felt it in her chest.
"She does not belong," Vivienne said in a voice that echoed around them.
The wind picked up.
The mirror cracked.
And everything went dark.
Emilia gasped as she returned to herself. She stumbled backward, the locket still in her hand, her chest heaving.
What was that?
Why had Vivienne looked at her that way?
And who was the version of her that danced with such freedom?
Was it a warning?
A memory?
Or something yet to come?
She pressed the locket against her chest, questions spiraling through her mind.
What if the mirror showed more than just a reflection?
What if it showed a part of her she hadn't met yet?