The night had never felt so long.
Lianna tossed and turned on her narrow bed, her thin blanket tangled around her legs like a net that refused to let her escape. The words from the golden envelope burned in her mind, etched there like a curse she could not shake off.
You are chosen. By fate, you will wed.
Her fingers clenched the pillow tighter. It wasn't a proposal—it was a declaration, as though she had no say in her own life. And the seal on the envelope, an intricate crest of interlocking rings beneath a crescent moon, pulsed in her memory like something alive.
Her grandmother's voice echoed in her thoughts, soft and trembling, spoken years ago when Lianna was still a child:
> "When the moon weeps red, one child of our bloodline will be taken by fate. The choice will never be theirs."
Lianna had dismissed it as a tale meant to scare her, just another village superstition. But tonight, under the faint glow of the waxing moon outside her window, the memory felt too sharp to ignore.
She turned on her side, staring at the shadows stretching across the wall. Her chest felt heavy, as if invisible hands pressed down on her lungs. Every instinct screamed at her to run—to ignore the letter, burn it, pretend it never came. But another part of her, deep and unwilling to be silenced, whispered that running from fate was impossible.
Her phone buzzed suddenly, startling her. She snatched it up, hoping the light would banish her dark thoughts.
[Elena]: Girl, are you awake? I know you are. Don't you dare ghost me after dropping that bomb earlier!
Lianna groaned softly. Of course Elena wouldn't let her off so easily. Her best friend was like fire—warm, consuming, relentless.
[Lianna]: I can't sleep. It feels like a nightmare.
[Elena]: Good. Nightmares are just the brain's way of telling us we're alive. Now tell me everything again. Slowly. What exactly did the letter say?
Lianna hesitated. She had already explained over the phone hours earlier, but typing it out felt different. Permanent. Real.
[Lianna]: It said… I am chosen. That by fate, I will wed. And it carried a crest. Like a family seal, but not ours. I've never seen it before.
Three dots blinked on the screen as Elena typed.
[Elena]: Okay. First of all—creepy. Second, this sounds like some rich guy's twisted prank. Maybe he's obsessed with you? Or your beauty finally attracted a stalker prince?
Lianna's lips twitched in spite of her fear. Elena always had a way of twisting the darkest situations into something ridiculous.
[Lianna]: This doesn't feel like a prank. The paper, the seal… it felt too official. Like it carried weight. Even the ink seemed alive.
Another pause.
[Elena]: Weight, huh? Or maybe you've just been bingeing too many fantasy dramas. Listen—burn it. Tomorrow, I'll come over, and we'll laugh about it over coffee.
Lianna wanted to agree. She wanted to cling to Elena's easy dismissal. But something about the letter wouldn't let her.
Her eyelids grew heavier, exhaustion finally dragging her toward sleep. She set the phone down and whispered to the silent room:
"Who are you…?"
The shadows did not answer, but as her consciousness slipped, she dreamed.
---
The dream began in water. Cold, endless water that lapped against her ankles though she stood on nothing solid. Mist curled around her like ribbons, veiling her sight.
And then—he appeared.
A figure in black, tall and commanding, his face hidden beneath a hood. His presence radiated both danger and familiarity, as though she had known him for lifetimes and yet not at all.
"Why me?" she asked, her voice echoing unnaturally in the void.
The man tilted his head, silent.
"Answer me!" Her voice cracked, desperation spilling out. "What do you want from me?"
At last, his hand rose, pale and long-fingered, pointing directly at her. His voice, when it came, was a low murmur that reverberated in her bones.
"You are mine."
Lianna stumbled back, her heart racing. The water beneath her feet rippled violently, pulling her down. She gasped, clawing at the mist, but it dissolved under her hands. The man's voice followed her as she fell—
"By fate. By blood. You cannot escape."
She woke with a scream.
Her body was drenched in sweat, her lungs heaving as though she had truly drowned. For a long moment, she stared at the ceiling, trembling.
The dream had felt too real. Too vivid. And worst of all—her wrist burned. She shoved back her sleeve, only to find faint marks etched onto her skin, glowing softly under the moonlight seeping through her window. Interlocking rings beneath a crescent moon.
The crest.
The same one from the letter.
Her stomach twisted. This wasn't a coincidence. It was a claim.
Before she could process further, a sharp knock rattled her door. Lianna froze. Who would come to her house in the dead of night?
Her heart hammered. Slowly, she slipped out of bed, tiptoeing to the door.
"Who's there?" she whispered, her voice thin.
Silence.
The knock came again, harder this time.
Her breath hitched. Against every instinct, she unlatched the door, opening it just enough to peek outside.
A man stood there.
Not the faceless figure from her dream, but flesh and blood, illuminated by the weak porch light. His dark hair glistened with rain, his sharp jawline casting shadows across his face. His eyes—intense, unyielding—locked onto hers as though he had been searching for her all his life.
Lianna's knees nearly buckled. She had never seen him before, and yet… something about him felt hauntingly familiar.
"I finally found you," he said softly, his voice carrying a strange weight.
The silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating.
Lianna gripped the edge of the door tighter, her knuckles paling. Her first instinct was to slam it shut, to lock it and pretend none of this was happening. But her body betrayed her—rooted in place, as though her very soul recognized the stranger before her.
The man's gaze never wavered. Deep, storm-colored eyes studied her like a puzzle only he could solve. He wasn't just looking at her—he was searching her.
"Who… who are you?" Lianna managed to ask, her voice trembling.
His lips curved, not into a smile, but into something sharper. "Names are useless when fate already binds us."
Her breath hitched. She wanted to laugh it off, call him insane, but the faint glow on her wrist beneath her sleeve burned hotter at his words, betraying her.
"I don't know you," she said firmly, forcing strength into her tone. "You're mistaken."
He tilted his head slightly, raindrops sliding down his temple. "Your denial changes nothing." His hand rose slowly, palm upward, as though he expected her to place hers in it. "You felt it, didn't you? The mark."
Her eyes widened. How could he possibly know? Instinctively, she pulled her sleeve down to hide the glowing crest.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she lied.
For the first time, a flicker of emotion crossed his face—something between amusement and sadness. "You'll understand soon."
Lianna's heart pounded. Her instincts screamed to run, but her legs refused to move. "Why are you here?" she whispered.
His gaze softened, almost imperceptibly. "Because the bond awakened. Because you are mine."
That word again—mine. It clung to her like chains. Anger flared inside her chest, cutting through the fog of fear.
"I don't belong to anyone!" she snapped, louder than she intended. "Not you, not fate, not anyone!"
The man's expression darkened, not with anger, but with something heavier—resignation, perhaps. He lowered his hand, letting it fall to his side. "You can fight the path, but it will only hurt you more."
Her pulse thundered. "Stay away from me."
For a long moment, they simply stared at each other. Rain pattered against the ground, the only sound between them.
Finally, the man inclined his head slightly, a gesture that felt both respectful and hauntingly final. "Then I'll wait. But not for long."
And just like that, he turned and disappeared into the rain. No footsteps echoed, no retreating figure in the street—he was simply gone.
Lianna slammed the door shut, her back pressed against it as her body shook uncontrollably. Tears welled in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks before she could stop them.
Who was he? And why did her soul react to him as though they had met countless times before?
---
The next morning brought no peace.
Elena barged into Lianna's apartment unannounced, carrying two coffees and a pastry bag, her energy filling the small space like sunlight.
"You look like death," Elena said bluntly, thrusting a coffee into her hand.
"Good morning to you too," Lianna muttered, grateful for the warmth of the cup.
Elena plopped onto the couch, crossing her legs. "Okay, spill. You texted me about the letter, then went radio silent. I nearly called the cops on you."
Lianna hesitated. Telling Elena about the midnight visitor felt… dangerous. If she said it aloud, it would become too real.
But Elena's sharp gaze missed nothing. "Don't you dare hide things from me, Lianna. We've been glued at the hip since kindergarten. If you're cursed, I'm cursed. If you're kidnapped by some crazy stalker, I'm breaking down the gates myself."
A watery laugh escaped Lianna despite the heaviness in her chest. "You're insane."
"Exactly. Now talk."
So she did. She told Elena everything—about the dream, the mark on her wrist, the man who appeared at her door claiming she was his.
Elena's jaw dropped. "Oh. My. God." She leaned forward, eyes wide with excitement rather than fear. "Girl, do you realize what this means?"
Lianna blinked. "That I'm doomed?"
"That you're living the literal plot of a fantasy romance! Handsome stranger in the rain? Claiming you as his? Fate tattoos? This is peak drama! Where are the cameras?"
"Elena, I'm serious!"
"So am I!" Elena clapped her hands together. "We need answers. Who is he? Where did he come from? And why you?"
"I don't want to know," Lianna whispered. Her hand drifted unconsciously to her wrist, where the crest still faintly glowed beneath her sleeve.
Elena caught the motion. "Show me."
Lianna hesitated, then reluctantly pushed up her sleeve. Elena gasped dramatically. "Holy— That's real! That's not some marker doodle. It's glowing!"
"Tell me something I don't know," Lianna muttered.
Elena grinned mischievously. "Okay: maybe this means you're secretly a lost princess. Or part of some ancient bloodline. Or—oh!—maybe you were married in a past life and now hubby's back to claim you!"
Lianna groaned, covering her face. "This isn't a game, Elena."
Her friend's smile softened. "I know. But jokes are how I deal with scary things, okay? Look—whatever this is, you're not facing it alone. If Fate thinks it can snatch you away, it's going to have to fight me first."
Lianna peeked at her through her fingers, her heart warming despite everything. Elena always knew exactly what to say.
Before she could reply, her phone buzzed violently on the table. Both girls jumped.
Lianna picked it up, her stomach sinking when she saw the notification. Another message. But not from Elena. Not from anyone she knew.
The screen displayed only a single line of text, written in elegant script as though etched onto the glass itself:
"Crescent Lake. Tonight. Midnight."
Elena's eyes widened as she read over her shoulder. "Well. That's not creepy at all."
Lianna's hands shook as she set the phone down. The letters lingered on the screen for a moment before vanishing, leaving nothing but her trembling reflection.
"Do not tell me you're going," Elena warned.
"I'm not," Lianna said immediately, though her voice lacked conviction.
Elena folded her arms. "Good. Because if you even think about stepping foot near that cursed lake, I'll tie you to your bed."
Lianna tried to laugh, but the sound cracked. The truth was, no matter how much she wanted to deny it, she already felt the pull. A whisper in her veins, urging her toward the water under the moonlight.
She had a choice. Stay safe—or face the unknown.
And deep down, she knew Fate wouldn't let her choose safety.