The Academy halls buzzed with chatter, but Elara felt isolated. She had lived a lifetime already, carried scars no one could see. Yet Caelum Draven's presence unsettled her more than she cared to admit.
He was magnetic in a way that drew people yet kept them at a distance. Nobles bowed when he passed, students whispered his name, and professors treated him with reverence. But Elara noticed the shadows in his eyes—the kind that came from carrying burdens too heavy for one soul.
Their paths crossed again during a lecture on ancient prophecies. Elara sat quietly, taking notes, when Caelum's voice cut through the silence.
"Professor," he said, "what happens when a soul refuses to follow its destined path?"
The room fell silent. The professor hesitated, then answered, "Such souls are rare. They are either destroyed… or reborn."
Elara's hand trembled. Was he speaking to her? Or was it coincidence?
After class, Caelum approached her. His golden eyes locked onto hers, and for a moment, she felt stripped bare.
"You're not ordinary," he said softly. "I can feel it. Your soul… it's older than your body."
Elara's breath caught. She wanted to deny it, but the truth weighed heavily. "And what if it is?" she asked, her voice steady despite the storm inside.
Caelum's lips curved, not quite a smile. "Then perhaps you're the one who can break my curse."
He explained in fragments: a prophecy bound to his bloodline, a shadow that followed him, a destiny that promised his downfall unless he found the soul strong enough to defy fate.
Elara listened, torn between disbelief and recognition. She had been betrayed once, destroyed once. Could this second life be tied to his?
That night, as she lay awake, the words echoed in her mind. **Break my curse.**
She had sworn never to trust again, never to let her heart be vulnerable. But destiny had a cruel sense of humor. And as much as she tried to resist, she couldn't ignore the way her soul stirred whenever Caelum Draven looked at her.