Kael's POV
Seven hours.
I watch the countdown timer on my phone. The numbers mock me with every passing second.
6:43:15... 6:43:14... 6:43:13...
"He's lying," Thorne says behind me. "He has to be. The curse doesn't work like that."
"Doesn't it?" I turn to face him. "The Architect created the curse. He controls it. If he says she dies at midnight, she dies at midnight."
Selene paces the room, her face pale but determined. "Then we move faster. We go to the wedding now. Perform the ritual early."
"The ritual only works during their vows," Elara reminds her gently. "When the betrayers bond. That's at 7 PM."
"So we have to wait." Selene's voice is steady but I can hear the fear underneath. "We wait until the last possible moment."
I want to tell her we'll find another way. That I'll save her. That she won't die tonight.
But I've made that promise seventeen times before. And seventeen times, I've failed.
"There's something else," Elara says quietly. She pulls out an old photograph. "I found this in the temple archives last night."
The photo shows a painting. Ancient and faded. But I recognize it instantly.
It's from the first life. Aria in her white priestess robes. Me in my armor. We're holding hands in the temple.
But there's a third figure I never noticed before. Standing in the shadows behind us.
The High Priest. The Architect.
And in his hand, he's holding something.
"What is that?" Selene leans closer.
"A soul anchor," Elara says. "It's what he used to bind your souls together. Without it, the curse can't exist."
My heart stops. "Where is it now?"
"That's the problem." Elara's face is grim. "It was supposed to be destroyed when you performed the blood vow. But if The Architect kept it..."
"Then he's been using it to control the curse this whole time," I finish. "Which means we need to find it and destroy it."
"Before midnight," Selene adds. "Before I die."
"Where would he keep it?" Thorne asks.
"Somewhere he could watch it. Feed it power. Use it to track Selene through every lifetime." I close my eyes, thinking. "Somewhere he visits regularly."
"The wedding," Selene breathes. "He's possessing my mother. He'll be at the wedding."
"So will the soul anchor," Elara confirms. "He'd keep it close. Probably on his person—or in this case, on your mother's person."
"Then the plan is simple," I say. "We go to the wedding. We find the soul anchor. We destroy it. And then we perform the ritual to transfer the curse."
"All before midnight," Thorne mutters. "While avoiding The Architect killing everyone in the building. Simple."
Selene suddenly grabs my arm. "Kael. If we destroy the soul anchor before transferring the curse, what happens to me?"
The question hangs in the air.
Elara's face goes pale. "I... I don't know. The curse and your reincarnation cycle are tied to the anchor. If we destroy it, you might be free. Or..."
"Or I might die instantly," Selene finishes. "Because my current life is tied to the curse."
"We don't know that for sure," I say quickly. "It's just a theory—"
"But it's possible." Selene's voice is calm. Too calm. "There's a chance that saving me could also kill me."
Nobody argues.
Because she's right.
"So what do we do?" Selene asks. "Destroy the anchor and hope I survive? Or transfer the curse first and hope we can find the anchor later?"
"We destroy the anchor first," I say immediately. "If we transfer the curse to Ryan and Vivienne but don't destroy the anchor, The Architect can just start the cycle over with new victims."
"But if we destroy it first and Selene dies—" Thorne starts.
"Then I become mortal and bring her back," I interrupt. "Whatever it takes."
"And doom the city," Elara reminds me.
"I. Don't. Care." Each word is ice. "The city doesn't matter. The millions of people don't matter. Nothing matters except her."
Selene touches my face. "Kael—"
"No." I grab her hand. "Don't tell me to be noble. Don't tell me to choose them over you. Because I won't. I can't. I've tried for a thousand years to do the right thing and it never works. So this time, I'm choosing you. No matter what."
"You'll regret it," she whispers.
"I'll regret losing you more."
We stare at each other. The countdown timer ticks between us.
6:15:42... 6:15:41... 6:15:40...
My phone rings. Unknown number.
I answer it on speaker.
"Hello, Prince." The Architect's voice is smooth as poison. "Having fun planning your little rebellion?"
"What do you want?" I growl.
"Just calling to remind you of the rules. Selene comes to the wedding alone. No backup. No magic users hiding in the shadows. If I sense anyone trying to perform a ritual, I'll detonate your precious soul anchor immediately."
"Detonate?" Selene's voice shakes. "What does that mean?"
"It means everyone within a mile dies instantly. Including your dear mother." The Architect laughs. "So here's your choice, Prince. Let Selene die at midnight like she's supposed to. Or try to save her and kill thousands."
"There has to be another way—"
"There isn't. I made sure of that." His voice turns sharp. "You think I didn't plan for every possibility? I've had a thousand years to perfect this trap. You're not saving her. Not this time. Not ever."
"Then why call?" I demand. "If you're so confident, why warn us?"
Silence.
Then: "Because I want you to suffer. I want you to hope. To try. To fail. Just like you've failed seventeen times before. Your pain is the only thing more delicious than her death."
The line goes dead.
Selene sinks into a chair. "We can't win."
"We can," I insist. But even I don't believe it anymore.
"How?" She looks up at me with tears in her eyes. "We can't destroy the anchor without killing thousands. We can't transfer the curse without the anchor staying active. And we can't do nothing because I die at midnight anyway."
"There has to be a loophole," Elara says. She flips through her book frantically. "Every curse has a weakness. Every spell has a backdoor."
"What if the backdoor is me?" Selene stands. "What if I'm supposed to die?"
"Don't say that," I growl.
"No, listen." Her voice gets stronger. "In every lifetime, I die at twenty-seven, right? But this time, I'm only twenty-six. What if by dying tonight—on my own terms, in a way I choose—I break the pattern? What if my early death is what finally ends this?"
"That's insane," Thorne says.
"Is it?" Selene looks at Elara. "You said the prophecy mentions 'the thirteenth hour.' Maybe that doesn't mean Friday the 13th. Maybe it means the thirteenth hour of this specific day. Maybe I'm supposed to die at 1 PM, not midnight."
"1 PM was seven hours ago," I point out.
"Exactly. I'm already living on borrowed time." Selene's eyes are bright with desperate hope. "What if The Architect moved my death to midnight because he's scared? What if me surviving past 1 PM already started breaking the curse?"
Elara's eyes widen. "The borrowed time theory. It's an ancient concept. If someone survives past their fated death time, they exist in a state between life and death. They become..."
"Unstoppable," I breathe. "Immune to curses because they're technically already dead."
"That's just a myth," Thorne protests.
"So is reincarnation," Selene counters. "So are immortal princes and soul anchors and priests who turn into shadow monsters. We're way past worrying about myths."
She's right.
"So what do we do?" I ask.
"We call The Architect's bluff." Selene's voice is steel now. "I go to the wedding alone like he demanded. But I don't go to save my mother or transfer the curse. I go to destroy the soul anchor myself."
"You can't," Elara says. "Only an immortal can destroy it. The magic is too powerful for a human—"
"But I'm not fully human anymore, am I?" Selene holds up her hands. They're glowing faintly silver. "I've been dying for seven hours. My soul is halfway between worlds. Maybe that's enough."
We all stare at her hands.
The silver glow pulses like a heartbeat.
"It's the priestess magic," Elara whispers. "From your first life. It's waking up because you're close to death. Selene, if you can access your original powers..."
"Then I can destroy the anchor myself," Selene finishes. "And maybe survive it."
"Or maybe explode," Thorne mutters.
"Better than doing nothing." Selene looks at me. "Kael. Let me try."
Every instinct screams at me to say no. To lock her in this penthouse and never let her near that wedding.
But looking at her now—strong, determined, glowing with ancient magic—I see what she really is.
Not a victim.
Not someone who needs saving.
A warrior who's been fighting this curse for a thousand years.
"Okay," I say finally. "But I'm coming with you."
"He said alone—"
"I don't care what he said." I grab her glowing hands. "You're not facing this alone. Not anymore. We end this together or we die together."
"The city—"
"Will survive or won't. That's not our choice to make." I pull her close. "But this—us—this is our choice. And I choose you. Always."
She kisses me. It's desperate and fierce and tastes like goodbye.
When we pull apart, the countdown timer shows 5:47:12.
"We should go," Elara says quietly. "The wedding starts in an hour. We need to get into position."
We all move toward the door.
My phone buzzes one last time.
A text from The Architect:
"I know what you're planning. It won't work. But come anyway. I want to watch you fail in person. PS - Your mother is waiting, Selene. She has something to tell you before she dies."
Below it: a photo.
Selene's mother tied to a chair. Her eyes are her own again—no longer possessed. She's crying.
And around her neck is a necklace with a small black stone.
The soul anchor.
"He took the possession off her," Selene breathes. "He wants her to know she's about to die."
"It's bait," I say. "He's using your mother to—"
"I know." Selene's jaw sets. "But I'm still going. Because that's my mother. And curse or no curse, I'm not letting her die alone."
The timer ticks down.
5:45:03... 5:45:02... 5:45:01...
Less than six hours until midnight.
Until Selene dies.
Unless we can pull off the impossible.
Again.