CHAPTER 5: Midnight summons

​I read the letter five times before I finally accepted that the words weren't going to rearrange themselves into something less troubling.

​I know what you did today. Meet me at midnight. Come alone.

​— Kael Blackwood

​The parchment crackled softly between my fingers. At first, I thought my hands were shaking because of Kael. That would have been simple enough to understand—a lingering echo of panic at the mention of my future executioner.

​The truth was far worse.

​I wasn't frightened of the man standing in the present. I was terrified of what his sudden, sharp interest signaled.

​In my first life, Kael Blackwood had barely granted me a second glance. I had spent years collecting scraps of his attention like a starving beggar gathering crumbs beneath a feast table—a brief glance across a crowded ballroom, a cool, polite greeting at a ceremonial court, a rare, formal conversation I would replay in my mind for weeks afterward.

​I had built an entire kingdom of dreams on those fragile foundation stones.

​Yet he had never sought me out. Never sent a private messenger to my family's gates. Never requested a clandestine meeting under cover of night.

​Now, barely four hours after the assassination attempt, I stood in my family's dimly lit foyer, holding a letter sealed with his private crest.

​The future was shifting, twisting away from the memory of my past life at a terrifying speed.

​"Seraphina?"

​My mother's voice shattered the silence of the hall.

​I looked up to find her watching me from the archway leading to the sitting room, her soft brown eyes clouded with concern.

​"What does it say, dear?"

​Without thinking, I folded the parchment in half and tucked it behind my back. "Nothing important."

​The lie fell too quickly from my lips, hollow and unconvincing.

​Her eyebrows rose. "You've never been a good liar, Seraphina."

​A sharp, dull ache settled behind my ribs. She deserved honesty. More than anyone in this treacherous city, she deserved the truth.

​But how could I explain that I had already watched her die? How could I tell her that in less than a year, soldiers in royal armor would drag her from this very hall to be executed on false charges of treason? How could I describe the terror of my own end—the sickening stench of burning wood, the roar of a bloodthirsty crowd, and the excruciating agony of our mate bond snapping apart as the flames consumed me?

​No. Not yet. I couldn't burden her with the ghosts of a future I was still trying to rewrite.

​I forced a smile, though it felt brittle and stretched across my cheeks. "I'm just exhausted from everything that happened at the altar."

​The excuse was thin, but she merely sighed, stepping forward to press a warm, gentle hand against my shoulder. "Then go up to bed, sweetheart."

​If only sleep could silence the voices in my head.

​The manor slowly surrendered to the quiet of the night. Servants retired to their quarters, heavy doors clicked shut, and candles were snuffed out one by one until the hall dissolved into deep, velvety shadows.

​I waited.

​By the time the grandfather clock downstairs struck eleven forty-five, I was standing beside my second-story window dressed in dark trousers and a leather tunic, staring toward the sprawling outline of the royal palace.

​The sensible choice was painfully obvious: ignore the missive, stay in bed, and avoid Kael Blackwood entirely.

​Unfortunately, Kael was not a man who tolerated silence.

​If I refused to meet him, he would simply come looking for answers himself. Given his position as Alpha heir and his stubborn, relentless nature, the thought of him cornering me in broad daylight terrified me far more than a midnight meeting.

​With a quiet breath, I swung my legs over the stone sill and dropped into the shadow of the garden below.

​The crisp night air bit at my skin, carrying the scent of damp earth and blooming nightshade. High above, a crescent moon hung like a silver curved blade, casting long, stark shadows across the cobblestones as I slipped through the side gates toward the palace grounds.

​Everything looked so peaceful. So completely normal.

​It was almost enough to make me believe that five years from now, these same streets wouldn't be lined with guards dragging me to the stake.

​Almost.

​The meeting place was the Moon Garden, a secluded sanctuary tucked behind the palace's eastern wing. Few were granted entry; ancient ivy crawled over high marble walls, and pale, night-blooming orchids carpeted the walkways, filling the air with a sweet, heavy fragrance that masked the faint metallic scent of the central fountain.

​It was the kind of place nobles chose when they wanted to seal a quiet alliance—or bury a quiet betrayal.

​I stepped beneath the stone archway, my hand instinctively resting near the small dagger hidden at my waist.

​Kael was already there, standing near the edge of the fountain with his back turned to the entrance.

​He had shed his heavy ceremonial armor for a simple black tunic and dark trousers. Without the royal banners behind him or the heavy mantle of leadership on his shoulders, he looked striking—younger than the cold king who had sentenced me to death, but no less dangerous.

​For a brief, traitorous second, he looked like the man I had once loved. The thought burned like poison in my throat.

​As if sensing my presence, Kael turned.

​His golden eyes locked onto mine in the moonlight.

​My heart skipped a beat. Five years of death and rebirth hadn't erased the raw physical gravity he exerted. I despised how readily my body recognized him.

​"You're late," he said, his voice low and smooth, carrying easily across the quiet courtyard.

​It was the exact tone he had used when reading my execution decree before the high court.

​I forced myself to hold his gaze, keeping my posture rigid. "You invited me, Your Highness. You didn't issue a royal summons."

​A flicker of something unreadable crossed his face—not anger, but a sudden, sharp glint of surprise. "I don't remember you ever speaking to me with such edge, Seraphina."

​Because in my first life, I was too busy begging for your approval. Back then, I had walked on eggshells, terrified that a single wrong word would drive him away.

​"People change," I replied flatly.

​His gaze narrowed, studying me with an intensity that made the fine hairs on my arms stand up. He wasn't looking at me as a minor noblewoman anymore. He was examining me like a complex puzzle he couldn't quite solve.

​The quiet between us stretched taut.

​"How did you know?" he asked finally.

​I kept my expression neutral. "Know what?"

​"The assassin." He took a slow, deliberate step away from the fountain. "You began moving before his blade even cleared his cloak. You didn't just react to an attack—you anticipated his trajectory. How?"

​My pulse hammered against my throat. Careful. A single slip of the tongue could mark me as a seer, a traitor, or worse.

​"I didn't know anything," I lied, keeping my tone carefully measured. "It was pure instinct."

​Kael's mouth flattened into a thin, skeptical line. "Instinct doesn't make a girl duck beneath a hidden blade and disarm a trained killer with a ceremonial torch. You knew where he was going to strike."

​"Then I suppose I was lucky."

​A faint, humorless smile touched his lips. "I don't believe in luck, Seraphina. Luck is the excuse people give when they don't understand the variables."

​Of course he didn't believe in luck. Kael believed in absolute control, ruthless preparation, and cold strategy. To him, every action had a cause, every victory was calculated, and every anomaly was a threat to be analyzed.

​I crossed my arms, leaning back against the cool stone of the archway. "Then I suppose you'll have to remain unsatisfied."

​The silence returned, broken only by the steady splash of water into the marble basin.

​Then Kael moved.

​He didn't rush, but in two long, fluid strides, he closed the distance between us.

​My body reacted before my mind could reason. Suddenly, the serene garden vanished, replaced by the suffocating weight of horrific memories: iron chains burning into my wrists, the roar of towering flames, and Kael standing on the high balcony, watching impassively as the fire consumed me.

​I took a sharp step back, my heels striking the stone arch.

​The reaction was subtle, but Kael caught it instantly.

​He stopped dead in his tracks. The skepticism on his face vanished, replaced by genuine, unscripted confusion. He looked at me as if my flinch were an impossible variable in an equation he had mastered.

​In his mind, he had done nothing to hurt me. He was the golden Alpha prince, and I was the quiet noble girl from a loyal house. He had no memory of the stake, the trial, or the ashes.

​"What are you afraid of?" he asked softly, his voice dropping an octave.

​A dark, bitter laugh nearly tore through my throat. What wasn't I afraid of? The ancient dragon slumbering in my blood. The web of lies Vivienne was already spinning. The Crimson Dragon symbol on his letter.

​You, I wanted to scream. I am afraid of what you will do to me.

​Instead, I swallowed the panic and forced my voice to remain cold. "I am merely cautious, Your Highness."

​His jaw tightened. "Of me?"

​The silence that followed was louder than any confession.

​Kael's golden eyes darkened. Before I could process the shift in his posture, he bridged the remaining space between us, stopping mere inches away. The heat radiating off his broad frame enveloped me, thick and overwhelming.

​My breath hitched.

​The mate bond flared to violent life in my chest. Heat rushed through my veins, and my wolf stirred beneath my skin, clawing toward him with a desperate, instinctual yearning that made me physically sick. She didn't remember the fire. She only remembered him.

​The bond was stronger than it had ever been in my previous life—richer, deeper, and pulsing with a strange, dark authority.

​Kael felt it too. His chest expanded on a sharp intake of breath, his nostrils flaring as he looked down at me, his gaze dropping to my lips before rising to lock onto my eyes.

​"What is happening between us?" he murmured.

​Before I could pull away, his hand shot out, his fingers wrapping firmly around my right wrist.

​The moment his bare skin touched mine, a shockwave exploded through my arm.

​I gasped, a sharp pain searing through my veins.

​Beneath the surface of my skin, right where his fingers gripped my wrist, a faint crimson light burst to life. It pulsed once—hard and hot—illuminating complex, glowing runes etched directly into my flesh. Ancient, dragon-like script flared beneath my skin before shattering into fine embers and vanishing completely.

​The entire anomaly lasted less than a second.

​Long enough for the light to cast harsh shadows across the garden walls.

​Long enough for Kael's grip to tighten until it nearly bruised.

​The detachment vanished from his face. The cold calculation was gone. What remained in his golden eyes was a dark, volatile mix of shock and raw, protective alarm.

​"What was that?" he demanded, his voice laced with Alpha command.

​My throat went bone-dry, my heart hammering like a trapped bird against my ribs.

​Because I had no lie left to offer—I had no idea what had just burned beneath my skin. And judging by the tension rigid in Kael's jaw, he had never seen anything like it in his life.