For the first time in her life, Amara didn't want to be seen.
The blinds were shut. The lights were off.
Her phone — somewhere beneath the mountain of pillows she'd buried herself under — had been buzzing for hours.
Nico. Isla. Even Lucian.
She didn't answer any of them.
They had stolen her whole life from her — and now they wanted to explain it?
No. She didn't want to hear one more word.
Not from the boy who claimed to love her while being her executioner.
Not from the best friend who had watched her sleep beside death.
And definitely not from the man who let her fall for him, knowing it would kill her.
Elsewhere: Isla's Apartment
Lucian stood in the middle of Isla's living room, tension running through his body like live wires.
"You need to stop," he said, voice low but deadly. "Do you understand what you're doing?"
"I do," Isla snapped. "I'm trying to save my bloodline."
Lucian's hands clenched into fists. "Your bloodline should've died with the witch who cursed us. You're dragging this girl through hell."
"She's not just some girl—" Isla started.
"She's the one who dies. Every. Single. Time."
The room fell into a heavy silence.
Then Isla swallowed. "What if I told you… there's another way?"
Lucian's eyes narrowed.
Isla hesitated before whispering, "If Nico dies… the ritual breaks."
Lucian blinked.
"If he's not alive to carry out the act, the curse fails this cycle," she continued. "Amara lives."
A pause.
"But Nico can't die," Lucian said. "He's like me. Immortal."
"Exactly. He can't be killed… unless…"
Lucian's mind raced. Then froze.
"The dagger," he said slowly. "The ancient blade. The only one forged before the immortality spell."
Isla nodded.
Lucian's voice dropped to a growl.
"But he's the one who has it."
Back in Amara's Room
She curled deeper under her blanket as night fell, the silence in her room louder than ever.
And yet… it wasn't quiet in her mind.
Dreams — no, memories — kept flashing behind her eyes.
The warmth of Lucian's hands.
The feeling of being drowned.
The flicker of torches. Screaming. Betrayal. Fire.
Always fire.
And always him.