blood & eternity part 4

Eva’s breath caught in her throat.

You were mine once.

The words coiled around her like a ghostly whisper, seeping into the deepest parts of her mind. The wind howled through the chapel ruins, rattling broken beams and sending a shiver down her spine.

“This is insane,” she whispered, though she wasn’t sure if she was trying to convince Lucian or herself. “You expect me to believe that I—” She stopped, because even as she said it, something in her resisted denial.

A flicker of something—of somewhere—rose unbidden in her thoughts. A candlelit room. The scent of smoke and old parchment. A voice, low and familiar, whispering her name.

Lucian.

Her knees weakened, and she grasped the crumbling stone wall beside her. Lucian was watching her closely, his gaze heavy with something between sadness and hope.

“You’re remembering,” he murmured.

Eva shook her head. “No. I don’t—I don’t understand.”

Lucian took a careful step forward, his movements impossibly fluid, too quiet for the dead leaves and twigs beneath his feet. He was close now, his presence consuming, the faint scent of something old—something dark—lingering around him.

“You were taken from me,” he said, voice like silk and shadow. “We were bound, Eva. In life, in death. But something tore us apart. Something… cruel.”

A chill skated down her spine.

She couldn’t look away from him. His dark eyes held her in place, searching her face as if willing her to remember, to accept what he was telling her.

“What are you saying?” she asked, her voice barely above a breath.

Lucian exhaled slowly. “I searched for you for centuries.” His fingers twitched at his sides. “And now that I’ve found you again… I fear I will lose you once more.”

Eva’s pulse pounded in her ears. Every part of her screamed to run, to deny it all. But she didn’t. She couldn’t.

Because deep down, something inside her was whispering that he was telling the truth.

That somehow, in a way beyond reason—

She had known him before.

Eva swallowed hard. “How is that possible?”

Lucian hesitated. Then, slowly, he reached into the pocket of his long coat and pulled out something small, something glinting in the moonlight.

A ring.

It was old—antique gold, its surface worn by time, the design intricate and delicate. And at its center, a small gemstone, deep red, like blood frozen in glass.

Something about it made Eva’s chest tighten.

Lucian held it out to her. “This belonged to you,” he said. “Once.”

Her fingers trembled as she reached for it. The moment her skin brushed the metal, a sharp pulse of something—pain? Memory?—shot through her, and suddenly—

Darkness.

Then—

A room bathed in candlelight. The scent of roses and ink. A hand in hers, warm, strong. A whispered vow.

The sharp slice of betrayal.

The cold embrace of death.

Eva gasped, yanking her hand away from the ring. The vision shattered. The present crashed over her like a wave.

She staggered back, chest heaving.

Lucian was watching her, his expression unreadable, but his eyes—his eyes burned with something dangerously close to longing.

“You remember,” he said quietly.

Eva’s head was spinning. She clenched her fists, trying to ground herself. “I don’t—I don’t know what I saw,” she stammered.

Lucian stepped closer. “You saw the truth.”

“No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “No, this—this isn’t possible.”