Rowan Blackwell was born on a night when time hesitated.
Clocks across the northern counties stalled for exactly three seconds. No alarms sounded. No systems failed. Most people never noticed.
The Continuum did.
Rowan did not cry when he was born. His eyes opened calmly, dark and aware, as though he were already listening to something no one else could hear.
When his Fate Mark formed, it did not settle.
It fractured.
Records later classified him as an Anomaly.
Years passed.
On the opposite side of the country, Elara Whitcombe woke from a dream with her pulse racing and her hands shaking.
She had seen a boy standing in a place where the world folded inward on itself. His presence bent reality — subtly, dangerously. When he turned toward her, something inside her shifted, not with comfort, but with recognition.
Her Fate Mark burned faintly beneath her skin.
That had never happened before.
Somewhere within the Continuum, probability collapsed into inevitability.
Two Anomalies had become aware of each other.
And destiny issued its coldest verdict:
They must never fall in love.
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