“I know,” I replied, forcing the words past the lump in my throat.I wanted to say more, to promise that one day he would find a love to heal his wounds.But the words tasted hollow, false.I had no right to offer hope when my heart was heavy with doubt.“One day...you’ll find someone to cure your pain.”
He set the knife down, his fingers brushing the leather with a tenderness that broke my heart.His eyes met mine then, weary and ancient, carrying the weight of a thousand unspoken truths.“I cannot live in a future I cannot see.I can only survive in the now.”
Silence hung between us, heavy and final.I nodded, swallowing the promise I could never keep.There were no more words to say, no more comfort to offer.We were shadows in this cruel game, bound by fate and divided by destiny.
We pored over every intricate thread of the grand tapestry we were about to weave for hours.The air between us crackled with intensity as we mapped out each possible move, each potential betrayal, and I gave him everything—every scrap of knowledge I had gathered on Alina’s schemes and shadows.
She was a serpent in human skin—slippery, deceptive, and dangerous.Her web of lies had ensnared many, her tongue silver with deceit, her steps always just beyond reach.But together, Dancing Fire and I had evaded worse.With his fierce resolve and my tireless pursuit of our endgame, I had no doubt—we would outwit her and claim what was rightfully ours.
Solaris.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the world in a wash of indigo and gold, we stood silently at the edge of the lake.The moon crested the sky, full and bright, its silver light dancing on the still waters like celestial fire.The sacred lake mirrored the heavens, a quiet witness to our parting.
Dancing Fire turned to me.He was clear-eyed and ancient, filled with all the wisdom of a man who had lived too long, lost too much, and still stood unbroken.
“The winds whisper of trials ahead,” he said, his voice low and resolute.“But remember this—your heart burns brighter than any storm.Walk with purpose, Amir.Let the spirits guide your steps.If we meet again…” He paused, emotion flickering behind his stoicism.“Let it be with stories of triumph.”
A lump rose in my throat—rare, unwelcome, but undeniable.“And may your path be lit with wisdom, my brother.Even in darkness, your strength is a beacon.Whatever comes…” I reached out, gripping his arm tight, warrior to warrior.“I will carry the memory of your courage with me.”
Our eyes locked—a silent pact forged in fire and brotherhood.
Then I turned and walked into the dark, leaving behind the only man who truly understood the weight of what was coming.
And knowing—no matter how the winds raged, no matter what blood was spilled—this war would remember our names.
ChapterThirty-Four
AMIR
Time split me open.
The vortex yanked me from the nothingness between seconds, ripping through flesh and thought, until reality slammed back with a sickening jolt.
I landed in the front room of my English home and stepped straight into a nightmare.
The air was thick with ruin.
Fabric lay across the floor like discarded skin, torn and twisted, as though the house had tried to tear itself apart.A shattered vase spilled petals like blood.The curtains sagged from their rods, limp and heavy, like nooses after the fall.
And the silence…
The silence was unnatural.Not peaceful.Not still.But bloated—swollen with grief, too full to breathe.
Then the scream tore it open.
“Roman is dead!My son is dead!”
It pierced the room like shrapnel, raw and unfiltered, a sound born from the marrow of suffering.
Elizabeth stood in the center of the wreckage, a ghost made flesh.
Her skin was pale, her eyes wide with a horror no soul should ever carry.Tears carved down her cheeks, but she didn’t seem to feel them.She was locked in place, frozen in the moment her world died.
In her trembling hand, a letter flailed—fragile, broken, desperate, it seemed, to escape the truth written within.
I moved toward her, each step heavy with the weight of truths I could no longer withhold, secrets I had kept for a grander purpose, for the love that bound me to her in ways words could never capture.
Roman wasn’t dead.But he was far beyond her reach, lost in the sands of Rome.
