Not Supposed to be Here - Valeria's POV
My pulse quickens. I spin in place, searching for the source. But the landscape remains the same.
“I’m not supposed to be here,” I whisper to myself, as the chill seeps deeper into my bones.
But something… or someone… wants me here.
And they’re waiting.
I look around again, but nothing seems familiar. None of my dreams have ever felt like this or looked like this.
“Hello!” I call out again, hoping someone will hear me.
Once again, I’m met with silence.
My breath comes out in a ragged gasp as I try to find a single shred of something familiar. There’s no one here and I’m lost. I take a few more steps, but the crunching sound beneath my feet is driving me mad.
“Why can’t I be somewhere warmer? This is ridiculous.”
I rub my hands up and down my arms, moving into the trees to block the wind, though they provide little shelter. It seems to come from out of nowhere with no sign of stopping. It’s making the atmosphere even colder and I swear the temperature is dropping.
As I rest against the nearest tree, trying to warm myself, I hear the faintest whistling in the distance.
I slowly turn, peeking around the tree to see who could possibly be whistling in a place like this. The cold is sharp, biting at my cheeks, and I’m half-convinced I’m going to freeze to death before I even find out if I’m still dreaming.
That’s when I see him.
A tall man stands just beyond the trees, draped in rich, layered furs that cascade over his broad shoulders and down his back like something out of an old tale. The cloak moves gently in the breeze, the silver clasps at his collar catching the dull light filtering through the clouds. He doesn’t look more than thirty, maybe twenty-five if the soft curve of his jaw is any indication, though his bearing carries the weight of something older, something timeless.
His dark hair tumbles in soft waves, just past his ears, thick and tousled like he’s run his fingers through it a dozen times without care. Strands fall across his forehead as he tilts his head back, gazing skyward with a quiet serenity that feels… entirely out of place. As if the cold doesn’t touch him. As if he’s in no rush, no danger, no hurry at all. He whistles a slow, wandering tune that doesn’t belong to any melody I know but still feels achingly familiar, like something heard once in a forgotten dream.
I shift, leaning slightly to the side to get a clearer look at his face—and then I make the mistake of stepping on a twig.
Snap.
He stops instantly, the tune dying on his lips. Slowly, almost lazily, he turns his head to the left, his gaze scanning through the skeletal trees. His eyes are striking. They are a shade between storm-gray and midnight, framed by long lashes that shouldn’t belong to someone that rugged. His face is sharp yet somehow soft, with high cheekbones, a strong jaw, and the faintest shadow of stubble dusting his skin.
Then his eyes land on me.
My breath catches.
There’s no surprise in his expression. No fear. Just calm interest, as if he expected me to be there all along. He arches a single brow, a ghost of a smile touching the corner of his lips.
“Well,” he says, voice low and smooth like warm velvet in winter, “aren’t you a lovely part of this dream.”
“What?” I croak.
A smile curls on his lip. “Hello, Valeria. That’s your name now, isn’t it? Come to your mate.”
“You’re not my mate. That’s Kendric. He’s been with me all of my lives, so I don’t know who you are.”
He takes a step back as if he’s offended. A look of hurt flashes across his features. “Do you not recognize me?”
“No, I don’t.”
He chuckles under his breath and the next thing I know, he’s standing right in front of me. His hands grip my upper arm as he pulls me closer into his warm embrace. “How dare you not recognize me? Maybe I should show you as you know me.”
Right before my eyes, his face changes and I recognize him instantly. “Ramsey?”
His smile fades and his face changes back to the one he just had. “The one and only.”
“Vampires can’t change their face, so how did you do this?” I try to get away, but he won’t let me go.
“Shape shifter. I was a master in my first life. Then your father married you off to Kendric to stop the impending war. The only problem is he married you to the wrong man.”
Nothing he says makes sense. “I don’t understand. Our fathers married us to stop the war. You weren’t a part of that.”
He leans down, his breath blowing across my face. “You need to remember everything, Valeria. Think back to when you were in that life. Come on, I know you have it in you.”
“No, I don’t. I remember what I need to, and the rest can stay buried. I don’t know what you are talking about. Please, let me go and wake up.”
He shakes his head and ensures I’m not leaving. “Remember why the war started.”
“I don’t remember,” I cry out.
“Yes, you do. Who were you with before the war?”
“No one.” My mind is a mess, and it feels like I’m on the verge of something huge, but it’s not coming to me.
“Yes, you do,” he says, his voice rough with urgency and something darker beneath. “You were with me. You were my lover. Please, remember.”
His hand is still cupping my arm, but I’m too shocked to respond. My breath catches in my throat, a painful gasp tearing free as I recoil like I’ve been burned. I jerk away instinctively. He releases me without resistance, which somehow makes it worse. It’s not pity in his eyes. It's an expectation, as though he’s waiting for the memories to rush back to me like they’re supposed to.
I stumble backward and fall hard onto the cold, leaf-littered ground, my backside hitting with a dull thud. The air whooshes from my lungs as I look up at him, wild-eyed and trembling. “No,” I whisper, my voice shaky. “I don’t remember you.”
His expression doesn’t flicker. Instead, he takes a slow step closer, the soles of his boots silent against the frozen earth. He towers above me now, framed by the ghostly light filtering through the skeletal trees, his silhouette shadowed but commanding. For a brief second, the wind stills, as if the entire forest is holding its breath.
“Yes, you do,” he says again, quieter this time, the words edged with something brittle. “You were mine long before you were ever Kendric’s. You just don’t remember yet, but it’s all there. Locked inside you. Waiting.”
His eyes gleam with emotion I can’t name. Maybe it’s obsession, longing, or something ancient and buried too deep to fully understand.
“I started the war,” he goes on, his voice low and almost reverent, “because your father refused my proposal. He thought marrying you to me would be a disgrace and said I was too brutal, too ambitious, too much like my bloodline. So I forced his hand. I scorched villages, shattered alliances, brought the region to its knees until he had no choice.”
My chest tightens as a strange chill ripples over my skin. Not from the cold, but from the weight of what he’s saying.
“You’re lying!” I scream.
“You were the price of peace,” he continues. “But it didn’t last. Because Kendric came along. In that life, he wasn’t from the warring clan. He was just an ally. A politician’s son with smooth words and careful timing. He married you to secure your family’s loyalty, to turn your father’s favor toward his own people and their cause. He used you to build a front against me.”
I shake my head, my hands trembling as I try to push myself upright. “No. Kendric isn’t like that. He wouldn’t—”
“He didn’t love you then,” the man interrupts sharply, stepping even closer, his shadow falling across my face. “Not like I did. You and I, we were real. Our bond came before any treaty or manipulation. You came to me by choice, and you loved me despite everything. Don’t let him rewrite our history just because he found you first in this life.”
I stare at him, unable to respond. My heart pounds in my ears, and I feel like I’m splintering in half. The wind picks up again, rustling the dead leaves, and the memory of something brushes the edge of my mind. A whisper. A kiss in the dark.
He kneels in front of me slowly, bringing himself to eye level. “They’ve taken your memories, twisted them to fit their narrative. But I’m telling you the truth. You were mine. You still are. Somewhere in there, you remember.”
His hand lifts, not to touch me, but to hover near my cheek, as if he’s afraid he’ll break me.
“Please,” he breathes. “Don’t let this be another life where we lose each other.”
I go to slap him across the face, but he catches my hand instead and presses his lips against my palm. “You are angry, so I’ll forgive this slight. Don’t make me use my vampire abilities on you to make you remember all this. It doesn’t always come in the nicest way.”
I sit there for a moment, looking directly into his eyes. Everything in my world tilts, and I remember the few stolen kisses between us. But I also remember the roaring fire that is between Kendric and I.
“You and I weren’t fated at all. It was just puppy love or something equivalent. You are mistaken.”
A smile spreads across his face and it’s almost too creepy for me to look at. “I’m surprised you haven’t asked why Kendric is feral. You know he wasn’t in your first life, so why now? Don’t you want to ask?”
In a way I do, but in others I’m not sure I should. He seems to have all the answers. “Why?” I say with a shaky breath.
“He’s feral because of you.”