The scent of crushed rose petals lingered in the air, heavy and cloying, mixed with the coppery tang of blood. Liora lay sprawled across satin cushions, her skin pale beneath the dim torchlight, her breath shallow. Her silk robe, once white, was now streaked with crimson.
He knelt beside her, trembling. "No… no, please. You promised you'd wait for me."
Khalen's voice cracked, his fingers trembling as he gathered her in his arms. The warmth of her body was fading by the second. Just minutes ago, they'd been tangled together in a stolen embrace beneath the marble columns, her moans echoing off the temple walls, her mouth tasting of honey and sin.
"You came too late," she whispered, a weak smile forming on her lips. "But your touch… I felt it. Even before you arrived. It always burns like that."
He kissed her forehead, desperate to anchor her spirit to this life. "No. We were supposed to leave together. I was going to take you away from this cursed palace."
"You think we haven't done this before?" Her gaze drifted up, past the domed ceiling. "I remember now. It's always like this. We find each other. We take what we can. And then death."
Her eyes didn't hold fear only a strange peace. Khalen's heart shattered as she reached up and brushed her thumb over his lips, smearing the blood there. Hers.
"I love you," he said. The words came too late, as they always did.
The high priest's guards had found them together. Their union had defiled sacred vows, but worse it had broken the soul-binding agreement she was forced to swear when she was chosen as the temple's vessel. A pure body. A devoted mind. Until Khalen touched her.
Until her body remembered the way his hands had worshipped her through a thousand lifetimes.
"I'm not afraid," she whispered, her breath rattling. "But I'm tired."
"No," he said again, rocking her gently. "I'll find you. In the next life. I swear it."
Liora smiled faintly. "You always do."
Her body stilled.
The temple fell silent, save for the low hum of the torches and the drip of blood from the altar stone.
Khalen let out a sound somewhere between a sob and a growl. His pain was primal animal. This was the price of loving her, finding her only to lose her, life after life. Each reunion edged with desire, each ending written in tragedy.
He cradled her body as the guards burst in, swords drawn, their faces twisted in outrage. Khalen didn't flinch.
He had nothing left to lose.
Not in this life.
But as they dragged him away in chains, he held onto her final words like a blade pressed to his heart.
"You always find me."
Five Years Later
The desert winds howled through the cracked stones of the ruined temple. Locals avoided it, whispering of curses and restless spirits. But one night, a wandering oracle came and laid a flower on the altar red like blood, soft like skin.
"The cycle begins again," she murmured.
Somewhere far from there, a baby was born with eyes too ancient for her tiny frame.