Aira sat by the hearth of the safehouse, knees tucked under her, eyes fixed on the flickering flames. The logs cracked softly, but all she could hear was Eiran's voice echoing through her skull. "Because love like ours… doesn't die. It just sleeps."
How could she have ever loved a man she didn't remember? And worse—killed him?
She didn't know what scared her more: the idea that it was true… or the aching part of her heart that hoped it was.
Kael entered the room silently, carrying a blanket. "You're freezing," he murmured, kneeling in front of her. He wrapped the blanket around her shoulders, his hands lingering for a moment too long. "You haven't said a word since he left."
She didn't look at him. "I don't know what to say."
"Then tell me what you're feeling," he whispered.
She finally turned to face him. The flickering firelight made his features look even more sculpted—his eyes soft, filled with concern. The sight of him grounded her, but it didn't chase away the storm inside her chest.
"I don't trust him," Kael continued. "But I trust you. So if you believe Eiran was once someone important… I'll try to understand."
Aira let out a shaky breath. "It's not just that. When he looked at me, it was like I… I belonged to him. Like a part of me recognized him before my mind did. I don't know how to explain it."
Kael's jaw clenched. "You don't have to explain. I just… I need to know where you stand."
Aira looked into his eyes. "I don't know where I stand, Kael. But I know I feel safe with you. You've always protected me. And part of me wants to run straight into your arms and forget all of this."
"Then do it," he murmured, leaning in, his breath brushing her lips.
Their lips met.
It started soft—like a promise not yet spoken. But Aira was trembling, and Kael pulled her closer, wrapping her in his arms as if shielding her from the rest of the world. His lips deepened the kiss, slow but growing hotter, hungrier. She melted into him, the warmth of the fire blending with the heat unfurling beneath her skin.
When Kael's hand slid into her hair, she gasped softly, and he froze.
"I'm sorry," he said against her lips. "I didn't mean to—"
"Don't stop," she whispered.
Their mouths crashed together again, with urgency this time. Her fingers gripped his shirt, and she pulled him toward her. Kael responded with a groan, his lips trailing along her jaw, then down her neck. She tilted her head, giving him more, wanting more.
But just as her body began to surrender, her heart faltered.
Eiran's face. His silver eyes. His voice.
She stiffened.
Kael pulled back immediately. "What is it?"
"I… I'm sorry," she said, chest heaving. "I want this. I do. But I need to sort through this mess in my head first."
Kael didn't flinch. He only nodded, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. "I'll wait. As long as it takes."
Tears stung her eyes. "You deserve more than someone caught between past lives."
"And yet here I am," he said gently. "Not walking away."
Before she could speak, the door burst open.
Sareth stood there, breathless, eyes blazing.
"What is it?" Kael rose, instantly on edge.
Sareth didn't answer. He looked at Aira. "You need to come with me. Now."
"Why?"
"Because the Temple of Echoes just activated," Sareth said. "And it only does that when someone touches its seal with shaman blood."
Aira's heart dropped. "Eiran."
Sareth nodded. "And if he's gone there… it means he's looking for the memory you sealed away."
Kael looked between them. "What memory?"
Aira's voice was barely a whisper. "The moment I killed him."
Silence fell, thick and suffocating.
"We have to go," Sareth said. "If Eiran opens that memory before you're ready—it could break you. Or worse… bring your past self back in full."
Kael drew his sword. "Then we go together. All of us."
Aira rose slowly. Her legs were still weak, but her resolve was hardening.
She didn't know what waited for them in the Temple of Echoes, or what truth Eiran wanted her to face.
But she knew one thing:
This wasn't just about memory anymore.
It was about choice.
And the woman she was becoming would no longer run from the past.
She would confront it—piece by piece—even if it broke her heart again.