He hesitates, then follows me inside.
I move to the window, staring out at the darkness. The forest is a black mass against the night sky. Somewhere out there, she’s lying in the ground. Cold. Gone.
My hands curl into fists.
“I didn’t ask for any of this,” I say, my voice tight. “I didn’t ask to be reincarnated. I didn’t ask to have someone hunting me across lifetimes. I didn’t ask for”—my voice breaks—“I didn’t ask for her to die for protecting me.”
“I know.”
“Do you?” I spin to face him. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like everyone around me could pay the price for something I don’t even remember doing.”
Kieran sighs, but he says nothing.
I want to cry. I want to collapse on the floor and sob until there’s nothing left inside me. But I’m also furious. Rage burns alongside the grief, hot and vicious. I want to find whoever did this and tear them apart with my bare hands.
“I don’t want to die,” I say, looking Kieran straight in the face. “I need you to understand that. This time, I won’t. I refuse to.”
There’s a flicker in his eyes. Of hope, maybe. Or fear.
“I want to meet these gypsy witches,” I continue. “I want to know what happened in our first life. I want to know why someone would curse us like this.”
He nods slowly. “Alright.”
“Tell me about Elara.” The name feels strange on my tongue. “Tell me about the first life. Everything.”
Kieran moves to sit on the edge of my bed, his shoulders heavy. He stares at his hands for a long moment.
“I met her when I was injured,” he says finally. “Badly. I was dying, actually. She found me and brought me to the gypsy witches. They healed me, but it was Elara who stayed by my side through all of it.” His voice softens. “She was their daughter. Raised by them, protected by them. And we were fated mates.”
My wolf stirs at the words, but I push the feeling down.
“I won her over,” he continues. “It took time, but eventually, she agreed to be my mate. The gypsy witches gave their blessing. She was four months pregnant when we had our mating ceremony.”
Four months. The number makes my skin prickle.
“There was an attack during the ceremony,” Kieran says, his voice going flat. “Shifters came from nowhere. They cut down everyone in sight. We fought back, but so many died. I realized they were after Elara specifically, so I told her to run while I held them off.”
I remember that part. The dream I had—running through the forest, my hand pressed to my swollen belly. The fear clawing at my throat, the desperate need to survive, to protect the life growing inside me.
“She died,” I murmur.
“Yes.” His hands clench. “I got to her, but I couldn’t save her. The baby was already gone. Elara died in my arms.”
The pain in his voice makes my throat ache.
“I died from my wounds later the same day,” he says. “When I woke up, I was a child again. Born in the same bloodline, with all my memories intact.”
My breath catches. “You remembered everything?”
“Everything.” He looks up at me. “I spent years trying to understand what had happened. Then, I met another version of Elara. Different face, different name, but the same soul. We were fated mates again.”
“And?”
“She was four months pregnant when she was chased down and killed.” His voice is completely empty now. “I wasn’t there. I was on a hunting expedition. By the time I returned, she was already dead.”
Horror crawls up my spine. “Kieran—”
“I lived for thirty more years after that,” he continues. “Then I died and was reborn again with memories of both previous lives. The cycle continued.” He stands abruptly, pacing to the window. “In one life, I was careful not to impregnate her. I thought maybe that was the trigger. We spent seven happy years together.”
