CHAPTER 7 — THE MEMORY THAT WASN’T MINE

Someone shouted my name.

“Seren!”

I tried to open my eyes.

Nothing happened.

My whole body felt heavy.

So cold. Too cold.

Snow pressed against my cheek.

I heard breathing above me. Close, but not mine.

A man’s voice, tight, desperate.

“Stay with me.”

My heart hammered in my chest.

I knew that voice. Darius.

But I wasn’t in my own skin. I stood somewhere else, just watching, not remembering. Just... watching.

Darius cradled my body in his arms, kneeling in the snow. Blood smeared his hands. My blood. His hair dripped with melted snow, face twisted up in something I’d never seen from him—despair.

“No,” he choked out.

He pressed his hand to my wound. “No, no, no.”

A shape came out of the swirling snow. Darius looked up, eyes wild.

“Get out of here,” he barked.

The man stopped. “I can’t.”

“Then don’t come closer.”

“You know what happens if she survives.”

Darius’s face changed.

“What did you say?” he demanded.

The voice was flat. Male. Unfamiliar.

“You heard me.”

Darius stood, still clutching me.

“You’re the one who did this.”

“No,” the man said, shaking his head. “I just followed the order.”

“What order?”

Silence blanketed the world.

Darius’s eyes darkened. “Who gave it?”

No answer.

He took a step forward. “Who?”

Then, behind them, a woman’s voice cut in. Calm, almost gentle.

“She must die before she remembers.”

Everything in me seized up. I knew that voice. Velara.

She glided out of the trees, her silver crown catching the moonlight. She looked exactly as she had at my execution—beautiful, untouched, frozen.

Darius stared, jaw clenched. “You.”

Velara showed no emotion. “You should have left her alone, Darius.”

“You ordered this?” he asked.

“I gave an order.”

“For her execution?”

“For the kingdom.”

Darius held me tighter. “She’s not a threat.”

“You don’t understand what she carries.”

His voice turned sharp. “What does she carry?”

Velara looked straight at me—or it felt like she did. Even if it was just a memory, her eyes pierced straight through me. Something in me wanted to flinch away.

“She remembers,” she said quietly.

Darius’s face changed again. “What?”

Velara stepped closer. “She is beginning to remember.”

He shook his head. “Remember what?”

Velara smiled.

And then—

Everything shattered.

I snapped awake, screaming.

Hands flew to my throat. I couldn’t breathe. Darkness pressed in on me. My sheets twisted around my legs like chains.

For a few frantic seconds, I didn’t know where I was.

Then the room came back. The palace. My bed. Curtains. Moonlight creeping in.

My heart wouldn’t slow.

I stared at my hands. Clean. No blood. No snow. No body.

But I still felt the sting of cold against my cheek, still heard Darius’s voice.

Stay with me.

I pressed a hand over my mouth.

That wasn’t my memory. It couldn’t be. I’d never seen Darius holding me like that. Never heard those words—never heard Velara say them.

But I knew every detail. The weight of the snow. Darius’s breath, ragged as he pressed his hand to my side. The way his eyes looked.

None of it was mine.

A knock jolted me out of my thoughts. I froze.

Another knock.

“Seren?”

Darius.

I stayed silent.

The door eased open. He stepped inside, eyes finding me instantly.

“You’re awake.”

I managed a nod.

He closed the door behind him. “Another dream?”

My stomach twisted.

“How did you know?”

He didn’t answer right away. He just walked closer.

I yanked the blanket tighter around my shoulders. “Did you have one too?”

He stopped at the edge of the bed.

“What did you see?” I asked.

He looked at me—really looked. “Answer me,” I pressed.

His jaw worked. “Yes,” he said quietly.

My heart thudded.

“What did you see?” I said again.

He took a breath, then stepped closer. “Snow.”

It felt like the air went thin. “Blood.”

“A body?” I forced out.

He nodded once, jaw tight. “Yes.”

The room shrank around us.

“What happened?” I asked.

“You were dead.”

“I know.”

“No.” He locked eyes with me. “You don’t.”

Something icy spread in my chest.

“What did you see?”

He looked away. “I was holding you.”

My heart slammed against my ribs.

“So you saw the same thing.”

Darius looked back at me, his eyes unreadable. “What did you see?”

I hesitated. “Someone came to you.”

He stopped breathing for a moment.

“A man.”

He nodded. “Yes.”

“He said you had to die.”

Darius’s face turned hard. “What else?”

I hesitated, voice barely a whisper. “Velara was there.”

His whole body tensed.

“She said…” I searched for the words. “She said you should have left me alone.”

His breathing quickened.

“And?” he pushed.

“She said I was beginning to remember.”

We fell silent, staring at each other.

“What does that mean?” I asked.

He didn’t speak.

“Darius.”

He turned away, moving to the window, back to me.

“I don’t know.”

“You’re lying.”

His voice came out rough. “I wish I were.”

“Then tell me what you do know.”

His knuckles whitened on the windowsill. “I’ve had that memory before.”

My stomach clenched. “Before tonight?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

“How many times?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He met my eyes, haunted. “Because I thought it was mine.”

I shook my head. “What?”

“I thought I was remembering the night you died.”

He turned back to me. “But tonight was different.”

“How?”

“You were there.”

A chill crept up my spine. “I was there?”

“In the memory.”

My skin prickled all over.

“You saw what I saw?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“But I wasn’t remembering my own death.”

“No.”

Darius stepped toward me, his voice low.

“That’s what scares me.”

My breath caught in my chest.

“What if it isn’t a memory?”

He held my gaze.

“What if it’s something else?”

I just stared. “What?”

He hesitated, then whispered, “A memory that belongs to someone else.”

The room seemed to freeze.

Velara’s words echoed in my head. She must die before she remembers.

I hugged my arms to my chest.

“Then whose memory was it?”

Darius didn’t speak. Not at first. Just watched me, some new fear flickering in his eyes. Not for himself. For me.

“Seren…”

“What?”

He moved closer, so close I could hear his shaky breath.

“Think carefully.”

“About what?”

“Have you ever remembered something you never lived?”

I couldn’t answer. Not because I didn’t want to—but suddenly, pieces snapped into place. The black ring. Snow burning against my cheek. My mother’s looping handwriting. Darius holding me.

None of it fit, and yet, somehow, they all belonged to the same story.

I shook my head. “I don’t understand.”

Darius glanced at the locked door, then back at me. His voice dropped to almost nothing.

“Neither do I.”

A pause.

“But if we both saw it…”

He looked at me, eyes turning cold and sharp.

“…then we’re not the only ones who remember.”

My stomach fell.

“Who else?”

He stared, fear plain on his face for the first time. Not for himself.

“Then they remember you too.”