Chapter 47
Darkness.
It coils around Ana like smoke, thick and suffocating. Her body feels weightless, floating between wakefulness and something else—something much worse. The last thing she remembers is Elijah’s voice, smooth and coaxing, whispering words she didn’t want to hear.
"You were mine before. And you will be again."
A violent shudder runs through her, and suddenly, she’s falling.
Not physically, not really, but it feels like she’s plummeting through her own mind, through time, memories unraveling like a frayed thread.
Then—light.
A flicker, small at first, but growing. And in the center of it, a man.
Not Elijah.
Not Julian.
Someone else.
He stands in the doorway of a grand ballroom, dressed in black. His eyes—familiar, terrifyingly familiar—lock onto hers.
And then, the memory hits her like a tidal wave.
Pain. Pleasure. Fear.
A dance under candlelight. A whispered promise. A bite against her throat.
"You begged me for this."
Ana gasps, snapping back into her body.
She wakes with a violent jerk, gasping for air. Her lungs burn, her pulse is erratic, her skin feels like it’s been set on fire.
She’s lying on cold stone, wrists bound, the sharp scent of blood and incense thick in the air.
“Elijah!” The voice comes from somewhere to her left. She recognizes it—the other man from before. “She’s awake.”
Ana’s vision swims as she tries to sit up, but a heavy weight presses against her limbs. Something unseen, something unnatural.
“Elijah,” she rasps, her voice hoarse. “What—what did you do to me?”
A shadow moves closer.
He crouches beside her, tilting his head as if studying her. “You look stunning like this.”
Ana glares at him. “Let. Me. Go.”
Elijah chuckles. “Oh, sweetheart, I can’t do that.”
She pulls against the restraints, her breath coming faster. “Julian—”
Elijah’s expression darkens. “Julian?” He leans in close, so close she can see the flicker of amusement in his gaze. “Are you still clinging to him?”
Ana swallows hard. “He’ll come for me.”
Elijah smiles—a slow, knowing curve of his lips. “Oh, I’m counting on it.”
A chill races down her spine.
She glances at the other man, her mind racing. “Who are you?”
His golden eyes meet hers, unreadable. “A means to an end.”
Her stomach twists.
She turns back to Elijah. “What do you want?”
His fingers trail lightly down her arm, sending a shiver of revulsion through her. “I want you to remember.”
“I do remember,” she snaps. “And I want no part of whatever this is.”
Elijah sighs, shaking his head as if she’s a child throwing a tantrum. “You’re fighting a battle you don’t even understand.”
Ana clenches her fists. “Then explain it to me.”
Elijah’s expression softens—almost. “You think Julian saved you. You think he’s the hero in your story.” He leans in, voice a whisper against her skin. “But tell me, sweetheart, do heroes erase memories? Do they lie?”
Ana’s breath catches.
Because she doesn’t have an answer.
Not one she likes.
Elijah watches her struggle, his gaze gleaming with satisfaction. “You feel it, don’t you?” His voice is softer now, almost… tender. “The truth clawing its way back into your mind.”
Ana shakes her head. “I don’t—”
“You do.” He places a cold hand over her racing heart. “Deep down, you know.”
Her pulse thrums against his palm, and for a moment, something flickers behind his eyes. Something real.
Then he steps back.
“Bring her,” he orders.
The golden-eyed man steps forward, and before Ana can react, he lifts her effortlessly into his arms.
“Put me down!” she struggles, kicking against him, but it’s like trying to fight against a steel statue.
He doesn’t even flinch.
“Elijah,” she snarls. “If you think I’m just going to—”
“You’ll see soon enough,” Elijah interrupts, voice velvet-smooth.
And then—
Darkness again.