Amara Voss doesn’t just kill, she survives. Viktor Dragovic doesn’t just rule, he dominates. Neither of them gives a damn about love, but when their worlds collide, sparks fly, and the chaos gets personal. Her blade is sharp, his heart is ice, and together they’re a ticking time bomb. But the past has a way of screwing things up. Blood-soaked secrets and betrayals refuse to stay buried, dragging them into a mess that could tear them apart. Yet every crimson kiss pulls them deeper into a passion they can’t escape, no matter how dangerous it gets.
View MoreJust one second,A beautiful momentI’m falling fast, I can't forgetOver and over, your story's rewrittenUnbreakable chain, my déjà vu...
The dream always starts off with me sitting at the back of the bus. Everything's tinted gold with soft fall light, hazy and honey-colored like an old photograph.
I'm sitting with my two best friends. Just like I was on that day. Evan is to my right, watching the sea cliffs and fir trees roll by outside the window. Mia's on my left sharing my iPod, each of us with one earphone.
It's fitting that we're listening to Déjà Vu by Fable, because I feel the strongest déjà vu at this moment – like I've lived this over and over countless times.
As is the way with dreams, I can't remember where we're going or where we came from, but that's ok.
My math teacher Ms. Blythe is at the front of the bus with the driver, wearing the same white blouse and yellow skirt she was wearing on that day. She's standing in front of a chalkboard drawing the infinity symbol, tracing its curves and bends over and over. Some of the kids near the front are leafing through their textbooks. This is the part where I always forget it's a dream, and I'm unsure if we're on a bus or in math class.
I nudge Evan to ask him what's going on. I wish I hadn't. As he turns to face me something wet and cold brushes my cheek. The sunlight sparkles off a stripe of damp green caught up in his curls. I reach into his hair and pull it out.
A strand of dripping seaweed clings to my hand.
Evan turns to face me, lifting his finger to his lips with a smile.
"Shhh....." he tells me.
He closes his eyes and opens his mouth. Stinking, reddish-brown salty water pours out all over the front of his t-shirt.
Row by row, the rest of the class turns in their seats towards us with water gushing from their mouths, seaweed and broken glass glinting in their hair. Even though their eyes are closed I know they're all looking at me.
I can still hear Déjà Vu playing; Mia tugs the earphone out of my ear. A scream is building up in the back of my throat. I smell salt. Mia's lips are icy as she presses them against my ear.
"Ashes to ashes, dust to –" she whispers.
I open my eyes just before the scream.
The faces of five beautiful boys gaze down at me.
I'm lying flat on my back in bed, sweat-drenched sheets tangled around my legs. The scream dies unreleased at the back of my throat.
Mia. Evan.
I stare hard at the poster on the ceiling, blinking up at it through the tears. Images of that sunny morning on the bus flicker and fade away as I concentrate on the Fable poster on the ceiling.
I know it sounds ridiculous, but this stupid poster of a British rock band is the only thing that gets me out of bed in the morning. The only thing that gives me the strength to face every new day.
"...unbreakable chain, my déjà vu..." The ringtone continues for a good ten seconds before I realize that my phone is ringing, and probably has been for a while. Zee. Damn.
I fumble for the phone next to my bed and almost hang up before hitting answer.
"Hey Sleeping Beauty. You coming down soon?" She sounds way too chipper for a school morning. I roll over onto my side, shutting my eyes against the line of sunlight creeping under my curtains.
"What time is it?"
"It's 7.15."
I sit bolt upright in bed. It's only a five minute drive to school, but I still need to shower and get dressed. At this rate we'll probably arrive late.
"Oh my god. I must have slept through my alarm." I'm already dragging myself out of bed, struggling to keep my eyes open. I don't feel like I've slept a wink. "Sorry for making you wait."
"It's ok Ashling." Zee's voice softens. "Was it... the dream again?"
I hesitate, pulling the curtain away from my bedroom window. In the driveway far below, Alix's Pontiac is parked dangerously close to the flowerbed. One more inch and he'll flatten my mom's beloved Iceberg roses. I make a mental note to tell Alix to park in the road instead of the driveway from now on.
"Are you ok Ashling?" Zee sounds worried.
"Yeah," I say as I close the curtains. "I saw Evan and Mia again."
We're both quiet for a moment.
"I'll be down in ten."
"Sure," Zee says. "Just take your time."
Amara pov:The med wing was quiet now. The chaos had settled, but inside me, the storm hadn’t gone anywhere. It just curled deeper, low and rumbling, like thunder buried under skin. Two hours had passed, maybe more, maybe less. Time had stopped making sense. Everyone had cleared out, eventually. No one told me to leave, but they didn’t have to. Aleksander was the last one to go. He lingered at the door, like he had something to say, but whatever it was, he swallowed it. Left me alone.Just me and Luca.I hadn’t moved from the chair beside his bed. Not even once. I sat there like a statue, eyes locked on him. Watching his chest rise and fall in slow, shallow rhythms. Counting each one like it might stop at any second. The sound of the monitor, the slow drip of the IV, every little mechanical noise cut louder than gunfire in my head.And then, finally, he stirred. Just a twitch at first. Then a small inhale. A wince. His lashes fluttered, eyes trying to open.“Luca?” My voice cracked a
Amara pov:The morning air bit at my skin as we stepped out of the armored vehicle and into the cruel winter haze near the border fence. Snow fell in lazy spirals, soft and deceptive, trying to cover the stench of death clinging to the earth. But nothing could mask it—not for someone like me. Not for someone who knew the difference between blood spilled in battle and blood spilled as a warning.Kira walked ahead with grim purpose, her eyes scanning everything—every tree, every footprint, every glint of metal buried in the frost. Valerie, ever the wildfire wrapped in silk, hummed quietly beside me, one hand resting on her holster, her other playing with the end of her braid. I wasn’t sure if the hum was to calm herself or to taunt Death.The bodies were waiting for us, strung like grotesque ornaments on the rusted iron fence, a chilling welcome from whatever bastard thought this would scare us.They failed. But that didn’t mean
Viktor pov:My boots echoed like thunder across the marble halls, heart slamming against my ribs with a ferocity I didn’t understand, no, refused to understand. The boy was gone. Luca. A fucking child, stolen from my house like I was some fool running a circus instead of a fortress.I wasn’t thinking straight. And I hated that.The corridors blurred as I stormed past security gates, the lights flickering above like dying stars. I growled into the comm again, “Update, now.”Aleksander’s voice crackled through. “Motion sensors, lower levels. South wing.”“That leads to the underground tunnel routes,” Damir added, voice clipped and sharp.Fuck. Of course. If I were trying to disappear without a trace, that’s where I’d go.We took the service stairs two at a time, weapons drawn, adrenaline punching through my veins like battery acid. I didn’t know why I was this agitated. Maybe it was the thought of Amara
Viktor pov:The air in the war room was thick with tension, buzzing with unspoken grudges and a hint of pride. My team was ready to spring into action, each buzzing with a fierce determination that barely hid beneath their disciplined exteriors. Kira’s jaw was set tight, her resolve unshakeable. Valerie had that wild look in her eyes, like a cat just waiting for the right moment to pounce. And then there was Amara—she had this natural authority about her, standing relaxed yet commanding, as if the space around her was meant to be hers.I stood at the head of the long, shiny conference table, hands pushed firmly behind my back, taking in the glowing map projected on the screen. It was a sea of red pins marking the edges of our territory, each one a reminder of the threats that were drawing closer, like storm clouds on the horizon.“Bodies were found hung from the border fence,” I started, keeping my voice steady and low, weighing the gri
Amara pov:We were finally settled in the Iron Citadel, Viktor’s goddamn fortress. Everything screamed power, wealth, and danger. And the moment I saw Viktor’s smug face, that arrogant smirk like he’d just won some twisted game, I wanted to slap the hell out of him. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. Because my brother was here. Because I had to stay strong, for him. I couldn’t leave Luca alone in this lion’s den.They gave us rooms next to each other. There was a door between them, connecting our spaces, and even though I didn’t say shit about it, I appreciated it. Just knowing he was close helped keep the panic from crawling up my throat but our rooms being placed directly across from Viktor’s is not a fucking coincidence. He wanted us right in front of higreyes, under his control. They probably didn’t trust me; smart move.The room they gave me was… nice. Too nice. Big-ass windows, expensive furniture, a bed softer than anything I’d slept in, even better than the house I bought for Luca in
Amara pov: Every time I closed my eyes, all I saw was Luca. My little brother. My whole goddamn heart. His face kept haunting me, his wide, scared eyes, his voice calling my name like I could actually protect him. He looked so small… so helpless. And right behind him was the monster himself, Viktor Dragovic. Calm as fuck, like stealing someone’s brother was just part of his regular day. Like ripping my soul apart didn’t matter to him at all. I was curled up on the couch, sitting in complete darkness, holding a knife so tight my fingers were going numb. Not because I planned to use it, but, because the pain reminded me I was still alive. That this nightmare was real, not just some twisted dream. Outside, the sky was slowly turning lighter, soft blue and gray creeping in, but inside me, It was all fire. Pure rage. Hurt. Fury. It was like poison bubbling under my skin, and any second now, it was going to blow. 6:02 a.m. My phone buzzed. Caller ID: Lion Dickhead. Of course it
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