The world was a blur of flashing city lights and suffocating darkness.
Aria's head slammed against the window of the speeding car, a jolt running through her body. A strip of cloth gagged her mouth, and her wrists burned from the tight plastic restraints cutting into her skin. Panic surged in her chest, clawing up her throat, threatening to drown her.
She couldn't breathe.
She couldn't move.
And worst of all—she couldn't scream.
The driver didn't look back, but the man sitting beside her did. His face was shadowed, but his eyes gleamed with a cruel amusement.
> "Struggling won't help, sweetheart," he drawled, voice like poisoned honey. "We've been waiting far too long for you."
Her stomach twisted. Me?
No—this had to be a mistake.
She thrashed harder, forcing herself to push back the tears. If she panicked now, she was lost.
The man leaned close enough for her to smell his cologne—sharp, metallic, like rust.
> "You feel it, don't you? The past bleeding into the present. The curse choking your soul. You're not just Aria Lane. Not anymore."
Her heart stuttered. How could he know? How could a stranger speak words only her nightmares had whispered?
She tried to spit out the gag, but it only muffled her cries.
The man chuckled.
> "Don't worry, little dove. You'll see him soon. Damian. Isn't that what you call him? Your eternal shadow."
Her blood ran cold.
Damian.
The name that haunted her dreams, the man with storm-gray eyes who stirred something ancient and desperate inside her.
How did they know his name?
Damian's Restlessness
Across the city, Damian stirred from restless half-sleep, sweat glistening on his skin. He sat up in bed, chest heaving, storm-gray eyes darting as though searching the shadows of his room.
Her voice.
He swore he heard it—muffled, strained, begging for help.
His fists clenched around the sheets. The connection between them had never felt so violent, so alive. Something was wrong. He knew it.
He stood, pacing. His instincts screamed at him to move, to find her. And Damian had never ignored his instincts before. Not when they were sharpened across centuries of blood, betrayal, and loss.
Not again.
He wouldn't lose her again.
Back in the Car
Aria forced herself to breathe through her nose, counting silently. One. Two. Three. Calm. Focus.
Her father used to say panic was a weapon turned against yourself. If she wanted to survive, she had to think.
The car swerved sharply before slowing. She pressed her shoulder against the door, straining at her bindings. The plastic cut deeper. Blood welled, warm and slick, but she didn't stop.
The man smirked.
> "Persistent. Just like her."
Her. Evelina.
The name she had seen in her dreams.
Aria's throat tightened. This isn't just a kidnapping. They know.
The car screeched to a stop. Doors slammed. Rough hands yanked her out, dragging her across gravel. The night air bit at her skin.
She kicked, twisting her body, earning a curse from one of them. A hand cracked across her face, stars exploding in her vision.
> "Keep her quiet," another voice hissed. "The Master doesn't want her damaged—yet."
The Master.
Her pulse thundered. Who was pulling the strings?
They shoved her through a set of iron doors. The clang echoed like a death knell. The air inside was damp, smelling of rust and mildew. Somewhere in the distance, water dripped—a slow, mocking rhythm.
They forced her down a narrow corridor, walls lined with crumbling stone. It wasn't just a building. It was a dungeon.
Aria's Defiance
They pushed her into a dim chamber lit by a single lantern. Shadows crawled along the walls. Her gag was ripped away, and she gasped for air, coughing.
The leader crouched before her, tilting her chin with gloved fingers. His face was finally visible—sharp cheekbones, hollow eyes, a scar running from temple to jaw.
> "There she is," he murmured, almost reverently. "The girl who dies a thousand deaths, yet always returns. Evelina. Aria. Whatever name you wear this time, your soul belongs to us."
Aria spat in his face.
Her voice cracked, but her words were steady:
> "I don't know what you're talking about. Let me go."
His lips curled into a smile that sent chills down her spine.
> "You will know. Soon enough."
He stood, signaling the others.
> "Prepare her. The ritual begins at dawn."
Ritual.
The word cut into her like a blade.
Her chest heaved, fear clawing at her throat. But beneath it burned something stronger—anger. If they thought she'd go quietly, they were wrong.
She'd survive. She had to. For herself. For Damian. For answers.
As they dragged her toward another chamber, Aria caught fragments of their hushed whispers:
> "She's the key."
"If we use her, Damian will finally break."
"The curse ends with her blood."
Her knees buckled, heart hammering so loudly she thought it might explode.
They don't just want me. They want to destroy him.
The heavy door groaned open, swallowing her in darkness.
And just before it slammed shut, she swore she heard it—
A voice. Deep, ragged, desperate.
> "Aria!"
Her heart stopped.
It was Damian.
But then the door sealed, and the world went black.
Darkness and Chains
The chamber was colder than death itself.
Aria's wrists ached where iron shackles dug into her skin. Chains tethered her to a stone pillar in the center of the room, the floor beneath her slick with damp moss.
Shadows clung to the edges of the chamber like living things, shifting when she wasn't looking. Her heart raced, her breath shallow.
But worse than the cold, worse than the pain, was the echo of the voice she had heard before the door closed.
Damian.
He was near. She knew it.
That single truth was enough to keep her from breaking.
The scarred man entered, lantern in hand, casting his gaunt face in flickering light. His presence filled the room with menace.
> "You heard him, didn't you?" he asked softly. "The one you think is your salvation. The one who's cursed you across centuries. Do you know why you keep dying, little dove? Do you know why you're reborn in pain, again and again?"
Aria forced her chin up.
> "Because cowards like you can't kill what's meant to endure."
The man laughed—a hollow, bitter sound that scraped at her ears.
> "So much fire. Just like before. Do you not remember the tower, Evelina? The flames licking your gown as he held you? Do you not remember begging us to let him live, even as your own body burned?"
Images slammed into her skull—fire, smoke, Damian's anguished face. Her lungs filled with phantom ash, and she choked back a scream.
The scarred man leaned closer, voice dripping with poison.
> "You both suffer because of love. And tonight, we end it."
Damian on the Hunt
The night air tore against Damian's skin as he sprinted across rooftops, his breath controlled, his body moving with lethal precision. Every nerve screamed Aria's name.
He'd tracked the black car until it disappeared into the outskirts, toward the abandoned industrial quarter. Old warehouses, sealed tunnels, forgotten catacombs. The perfect place to hide something—or someone.
He landed on the cracked pavement, boots silent as a predator's. His instincts sharpened. He could feel her, like a heartbeat pulsing in his blood.
And faintly… he heard it.
Her cry.
> "Hold on, Aria," he whispered, storm-gray eyes burning with fury. "I'm coming."
The Captor's Revelation
The scarred man paced in front of Aria, his voice low, almost reverent.
> "For centuries, we've hunted you both. You—the vessel of the soul. Him—the defier of fate. Each time, you find one another. Each time, you try to break the curse. And each time, you fail."
He crouched, gripping her face in cold hands.
> "Do you want to know the truth? It was never about love. It was about punishment. You two were never meant to be. The curse binds you because your love defied the gods themselves."
Her blood ran cold.
Gods. Punishment. Eternal suffering.
She shook her head violently.
> "I don't believe you. Love like ours can't be a curse—it's the only reason we keep fighting."
The scarred man's eyes narrowed.
> "Then let's see if your Damian feels the same when he watches you die—again."
He motioned to his men.
> "Prepare the altar."
A Desperate Stand
They dragged Aria to the center of a stone dais carved with ancient symbols. She thrashed, nails raking skin, teeth biting at hands. One captor cursed, blood dripping from a torn wrist.
> "She bites like a wolf," he growled.
Aria spat blood onto the stone.
> "Then don't get close."
They forced her down, binding her wrists above her head. Her heart pounded, terror mixing with defiance. Every part of her screamed for Damian.
And somewhere in the distance, she swore she heard it again—his voice, closer this time.
> Aria!
The Rescue Begins
The doors exploded inward with a force that rattled the walls.
Damian stood in the entrance, a storm made flesh, his gray eyes glowing with a fury that silenced the room.
> "Touch her, and you die."
The captors froze. Even the scarred man faltered, but only for a heartbeat before sneering.
> "Ah… the eternal lover. Right on time."
Damian's fists clenched. The air itself seemed to shudder around him.
> "Let her go."
The scarred man smirked.
> "Gladly. Once she bleeds."
He slashed a dagger across Aria's arm. She cried out, pain flaring white-hot. Damian's roar shook the chamber.
In a blur of motion, he was there—taking down one captor with a strike that shattered bone, disarming another with lethal grace. The fight erupted in chaos, shadows dancing against stone.
The Trap
Damian reached her, tearing through her bindings with trembling hands. His touch was gentle despite the rage in him.
> "Aria," he breathed, voice raw. "I've got you."
Her tears spilled freely.
> "I knew you'd come
Their foreheads touched for the briefest, stolen moment. The world around them vanished.
But then—
The scarred man raised his hands, chanting words older than time. The symbols on the dais glowed, searing light flooding the chamber.
The ground trembled. A circle of fire erupted around Aria and Damian, separating them from escape.
> "You think you've won, boy?" the scarred man hissed. "This is the moment we've been waiting for. If she lives—you burn. If she dies—you break."
The chains on the walls snapped loose, coiling like serpents. The chamber was alive with power, ancient and merciless.
Aria screamed as one wrapped around her waist, yanking her from Damian's grasp.
> "No!" Damian's roar tore through the room
Their fingers brushed—only inches apart.
And then the floor gave way beneath Aria.
Her body plummeted into the abyss, swallowed by darkness.
Damian's cry echoed after her, raw and agonized.
> "Ariaaa!"