LOGIN“Why do you keep looking at me like I’ve died before?” Elion’s voice trembles—half accusation, half fear. Cale freezes. He shouldn’t know. He shouldn’t remember. But he does. Every scream. Every last breath. Every timeline where Elion slipped through his hands. After a viral scandal destroys his career, Elion joins a reality dating show hoping to fix his reputation. The last thing he expects is a partner who knows his coffee order, his sleeping habits, his childhood lullaby—things he never shared on camera. And when time itself begins to glitch around him, Elion starts asking the question Cale has spent lifetimes trying to avoid: “Have we… met before?” Because Cale isn’t human. He’s a reaper who has rewound time again and again just to keep Elion alive—each reset costing him pieces of his memory. Now the countdown is almost over. One more death. One final rewind. One impossible choice: Save Elion… or stay with him as a mortal who remembers nothing. When a romance made for television turns into a battle against destiny, how far will a reaper go to protect the only soul he has ever chosen?
View MoreThe sound of chopping was precise, rhythmic, and terrifyingly fast.Thwack. Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.Elion sat at the kitchen table, nursing a cup of tea and a box of tissues. His nose was red, his throat felt like it had been scrubbed with steel wool, and he was wrapped in the same quilt Cale had vacated three days ago."Cale," Elion croaked. "What are you doing?"Cale stood at the counter. He was wearing an apron over his black t-shirt. He was wielding a chef's knife like a scalpel. Before him lay a pile of carrots that had been julienned into strips so uniform they looked like they had been measured with calipers."I am prepping," Cale said without breaking his rhythm."Prepping for what? A stir-fry for an army?""Dinner," Cale said. "I am optimizing the vegetable intake. Vitamin A is essential for immune system recovery. Since you are compromised, I must increase the dosage.""I have a cold, Cale. I don't need five pounds of carrots.""Surplus can be stored. Pickled. Or frozen."Th
The Oregon coastline was beautiful. Rugged cliffs, crashing waves, and a constant, misty rain that wrapped the A-frame house in a grey hug.It was perfect.Except for the sound coming from the bedroom.Hhh-choo!It was a small sound. A sneeze.Elion looked up from his laptop. He was sitting at the kitchen table, trying to organize the notes for his memoir, which was currently titled How to Marry a Reaper and Survive."Cale?" Elion called out. "Are you okay?"There was no answer. Just a rustling of sheets and a low, miserable groan.Elion stood up. He walked to the bedroom.Cale was lying on the bed, buried under three quilts. Only his nose and eyes were visible. His nose was red. His eyes were watery and miserable."I am dying," Cale whispered.Elion stopped in the doorway. He crossed his arms, leaning against the frame."You're dying?" Elion asked."System failure," Cale reported, his voice thick and congested. "Respiratory blockage. Thermal regulation offline. The heat... it is esca
The car was a black Cadillac Escalade, hired by Mitchell, the reporter from The Times. It sat on the gravel driveway of the farmhouse, its engine idling, a sleek monolith of modern technology against the backdrop of the decaying barn.Mitchell leaned against the hood, checking his watch. He looked impatient."You guys ready?" Mitchell called out as Elion and Cale emerged from the house. "We're burning daylight. And gas."Elion helped Cale down the porch steps. Cale was moving better today. The stiffness was there, but the limp was less pronounced. He wore the grey sweater and jeans, looking like a fisherman who had just survived a storm."We are ready," Elion said. "Did you bring the camera?""In the back," Mitchell said. "And a sound guy. And a lawyer. Just in case.""Good," Cale said. "Legal counsel is a necessary variable."They climbed into the back seat. Mitchell got in the front passenger seat, turning around to face them."So," Mitchell said. "Where are we going? You said 'West
The floorboards were hard.That was the first thing Cale noticed. Not the concept of hardness, or the theoretical resistance of matter against matter, but the actual, physical ache of wood pressing into his shoulder blades. The sensation was sharp, specific, and entirely unavoidable.He lay still, eyes closed, letting the sensation wash over him. It was uncomfortable. It was stiff. It was perfect."Cale?" Elion's voice came from beside him. It sounded groggy, rough with sleep. "Are you awake?"Cale opened his eyes. The morning light streaming through the yellow gingham curtains was blindingly bright. He blinked rapidly, tears pricking the corners of his eyes from the sheer intensity of the photons hitting his retinas."I am awake," Cale said. His voice rasped in his throat. It felt raw, like he had been screaming for hours, or like he hadn't spoken in years."How do you feel?" Elion asked, shifting on the floor. He groaned as he pushed himself up, rubbing his lower back. "God, my back
The morning light in the Garden Room was cruel. It illuminated the dust motes, the smudges on the glass doors, and the stark, grey pallor of Cale’s skin.Elion sat up, rubbing the grit from his eyes. He had slept in his clothes, his hand resting near the brass lamp he had used as a weapon the night
The sound of the helicopter was a physical weight, pressing down on the roof of the library.Thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack.It vibrated through the floorboards, shaking the dust from the shelves. To Elion, it sounded like a rescue. To Cale, it sounded like exposure.Elion was on his knees next to the
The library was a tomb of shadows and expensive leather.Outside, the storm battered the mansion with the fury of a scorned god. Rain lashed against the tall, leaded windows like gravel. Thunder shook the floorboards every few minutes, a deep, resonant boom that vibrated in Elion’s chest.Inside, t
The wind on the roof of the Centurion Tower was not a breeze; it was a physical assault. It whipped Elion’s hair into his eyes and snapped the production flags like gunshots.Fifty stories above Manhattan, the air was thin and smelled of exhaust and ozone.Elion stood at the edge of the "Leap of Fa
Welcome to GoodNovel world of fiction. If you like this novel, or you are an idealist hoping to explore a perfect world, and also want to become an original novel author online to increase income, you can join our family to read or create various types of books, such as romance novel, epic reading, werewolf novel, fantasy novel, history novel and so on. If you are a reader, high quality novels can be selected here. If you are an author, you can obtain more inspiration from others to create more brilliant works, what's more, your works on our platform will catch more attention and win more admiration from readers.