A storm bruises the sky above the city. Rain lashes the windows of the penthouse as Arinya stares into the night, the city below blinking like the eyes of silent witnesses. Her fingers tremble around a chipped coffee mug—one she doesn't remember owning. Shadows flicker behind her in the glass reflection.
She's not alone.
---
Arinya turned slowly, the steam from her drink rising like ghosts between her and the man standing by the fireplace.
Damon.
His eyes weren't soft tonight. They were obsidian, unreadable, too quiet. And the scar across his knuckle—a detail she'd never noticed before—looked fresh.
"You were in the fire, weren't you?" she asked, her voice almost lost beneath the howling wind outside.
He didn't blink. "What fire?"
"The one in my dreams. The one I wake up screaming from."
Silence stretched between them like a blade.
He walked toward her, slow, deliberate. She wanted to step back, but her feet stayed frozen. Her pulse thundered against her ribs, and not from fear—but from something worse.
Recognition.
"I need to know the truth," she whispered. "About me. About the scars. About what I did... or what someone did to me."
He stopped inches from her. The heat between their bodies should have been comforting. Instead, it was a storm of its own.
"You won't like the answers, Arinya."
"Then lie to me," she whispered, voice breaking. "But stop pretending you're a stranger. I see it in your eyes—like you already know everything I'm too afraid to remember."
His jaw clenched. Then, after a beat, he said:
"You were mine. Once."
---
Flashback Begins — A Memory Rekindled
Arinya stumbled back as a memory split through her like lightning—
She was ten, hiding beneath a staircase, her knees scraped and trembling. Smoke curled down the hallway. Voices—muffled, angry, dangerous—echoed through the burning mansion.
And then… a boy. Maybe thirteen. Covered in ash. Grabbing her hand. "Don't look back," he'd said. "Just run."
She gasped, clutching her head.
That boy… those eyes.
Damon.
---
"I saved you," he said softly, confirming her memory. "But not without a price."
She looked up. "What price?"
He hesitated.
Suddenly, a loud crash interrupted them. The window by the hallway shattered inward, glass spraying like knives. Damon immediately pulled her down, covering her with his body.
Gunshot.
One. Then two more.
Arinya's ears rang. She tasted fear on her tongue, bitter and metallic. Damon reached behind the sofa, pulling out a hidden weapon—his movements too practiced for a corporate billionaire.
"Stay down," he growled.
"You said you were done with this life," she cried.
"I lied."
---
Scene Shift – The Safehouse
Thirty minutes later, Damon drove like a man possessed through abandoned streets, the rain relentless. Arinya sat in the passenger seat, clutching her knees to her chest, heart pounding like a war drum.
"You said I was just an orphan. That I was nobody," she murmured. "Then why is someone trying to kill me?"
Damon didn't answer.
When they finally reached the safehouse—an underground loft hidden beneath an old mechanic shop—he slammed the door shut behind them and bolted it.
"You're not nobody," he said finally. "You're the last piece of something people thought they'd destroyed a decade ago."
She stared at him. "What does that mean?"
He poured a drink. Downed it.
"You were the daughter of a whistleblower. Someone who found out too much about an organization that doesn't forgive, doesn't forget."
"And you? Who are you really?"
"I was sent to kill your father," he said without blinking. "Instead, I helped him disappear. Then I saved you from the fire."
Arinya staggered back. Her whole world tilted.
"Why would you do that?"
He looked at her, gaze heavy. "Because even then, I couldn't pull the trigger. Not on someone who had your eyes."
---
Romantic Tension Build-Up
Silence fell again, thick with emotion. Arinya took a shaky breath, stepped forward.
"You've been lying to me. Watching me. Guiding my life from the shadows."
"I had to."
"No, you chose to."
Her fingers trembled as they touched his arm.
"I don't know who I am anymore," she whispered.
He moved closer, his hand rising slowly to cup her cheek.
"You're not who they say you are. You're stronger than all of this."
"And you?" she asked, tears brimming in her eyes. "Who are you when the secrets fall away?"
His lips hovered above hers.
"Yours," he whispered.
---
Cliffhanger – The Ticking Clock
Before their lips could meet, the silence exploded.
A phone on the wall began to ring—a landline neither of them had touched in years.
Damon froze.
Arinya stared at it, the sound echoing like a warning in a dream.
"Don't answer," he said.
But she was already walking toward it.
She picked up the receiver.
A voice crackled on the other end. Rough. Familiar. Terrifying.
"Hello again, little phoenix," it said. "Did you think we'd forget?"
Click.
She dropped the phone.
The past was no longer chasing her.
It had found her.
"Trapped Between His Fury and Her Fear"
The wind howled like a wounded beast outside the mansion, beating its fists against the tall windows. Inside, a storm of its own brewed — made of unanswered questions, pulsing chemistry, and a lingering threat neither of them could name.
Arinya sat stiffly on the velvet chaise, her fingers locked tightly on her lap. Every nerve screamed for escape. Yet her eyes remained glued to him — the man who claimed her as his wife but offered only riddles instead of answers.
"You're not telling me everything," she said, voice fragile but firm.
Damien turned from the fireplace, shadows playing against the sharp lines of his jaw. "And you are?"
Arinya flinched at the icy accusation, but didn't back down. "I told you what I remember. The orphanage. The fire. My nightmares. And now this... mark," she said, pulling down the collar of her sweater to reveal the strange silvery scar near her shoulder blade — it shimmered faintly in the dim light, like something more than just skin.
Damien's gaze locked on it.
His face lost color.
"That shouldn't be there…" he muttered.
"What do you mean?" she demanded.
He approached slowly, like she was a feral creature about to bolt. "That mark… it belongs to the cursed line — the Shadowbound."
Her heart dropped.
"Shadowbound?"
Damien hesitated, then lowered himself to her level. "They're a bloodline tied to ancient powers. You're not supposed to exist anymore. They were… wiped out years ago. Killed off."
"Why?"
"Because they were dangerous. Marked by something beyond this world. Something old. And dark."
A chilling silence passed between them.
Arinya's voice quivered. "Then why did you marry me?"
Damien's jaw clenched. "Because I had no choice. The Council ordered it. They said it was the only way to bind you… control the mark before it awakens fully."
"And if it awakens?"
"Then you're not just dangerous, Arinya. You're a threat to everyone. Including me."
Her breath caught. Her vision blurred. "You think I'd hurt you?"
"I don't know what you'd become," he said, softer this time. "And that terrifies me."
He reached out — hesitantly — and touched her hand.
Her skin tingled. Not just from his warmth, but something else. Ancient. Electric.
Suddenly, the mansion lights flickered.
A wind swept through the hallways, though no window was open.
Arinya shot to her feet. "Did you hear that?"
Damien was already moving — swift, silent.
They exited the sitting room and walked through the dim corridor, lit only by flickering candles. A strange hum vibrated through the air. Faint whispers curled along the walls.
In the hallway mirror, Arinya froze.
Behind her — not in the real hallway, but in the mirror's reflection — stood a shadow.
Not Damien.
Not human.
It grinned with jagged teeth and glowing eyes.
She turned — nothing there.
Damien grabbed her arm. "You saw it, didn't you?"
She nodded, shaking.
He cursed under his breath. "It's begun. The mark is waking."
The walls groaned. A portrait fell off its hook and shattered.
Damien dragged her toward the hidden chamber beneath the library — a safe room reinforced with runes, symbols, and old magic.
"Stay here," he ordered.
She grabbed his wrist. "Don't leave me!"
"I have to. If the spirit breaches the house, it'll come for your soul. It's not after me. It wants you."
Tears slipped down her cheeks. "Why me?! I didn't ask for this life — or this curse!"
His gaze softened. For the first time, she saw pain in his eyes.
"Neither did I," he whispered.
Then he left — closing the thick door behind him.
Arinya slumped to the ground, sobbing quietly in the silence.
But silence didn't last.
A whisper stirred behind her ear.
"I remember you… little flame…"
She whipped around.
No one was there.
But her reflection in the mirror?
It was smiling.
And it wasn't her smile.