Again - Valeria's POV
I lie on the bed in a daze. Though I remember Ramsey carrying me off, I don’t remember how I got here.
I pat myself down, checking for any changes, only to realize I’m dressed in a pair of leggings and a loose shirt. A soft black cover is draped over me lightly as well.
I sit up in bed and look around the room. It’s dark, but I can see everything clearly. It’s tidy, which is not what I expected at all. There’s not a drop of blood on the walls or anywhere on the furniture.
It’s completely spotless.
The door opens up and Ramsey steps in. “Ah, I see you are awake.”
“How long have I been asleep? Where did these clothes come from?”
He makes a sound under his breath before his dark gaze meets mine. “I had the maid dress you. Would you rather go back to no clothes like when you were first captured? I can make that happen if you wish. But I’ll warn you, the other vampires may not be able to hold back like I can.”
“No, I’d rather not, especially around you.” I glare at him as I pull the covers up over my chest.
He watches me for a moment, clearly amused by my actions. “It’s not like I haven’t seen it all before, wolf princess. Anyway, your darling mate isn’t being very cooperative. If he doesn’t get better, then I’m going to be forced to do some things I’d rather not do.”
His hand reaches out for a bottle at the end of the dresser. There’s a glass next to it and he fills it to the brim before setting the bottle down to take a sip.
“So, what is your plan? You’ve stopped us from ending you and your reign of tyranny. Now what? Don’t you have everything you wanted?”
His brows furrow as his gaze shifts to mine. For a long moment, he just stands there with the glass pressed to his lips, studying me. He finally pulls away and sets it back on top of the dark cherry dresser. “That is an interesting way of putting things. I guess you don’t remember everything, so I'll tell you a little about it. As long as I’m alive, then you two will be reborn after every time you die. Each time it’s your mission to stop me, but you haven’t succeeded yet. The midnight part is something you’ll have to figure out.”
“That’s it? This is your miraculous explanation? That isn’t anything I don’t already know,” I scoff.
He laughs under his breath and picks up the glass of red liquid to take another sip. It’s then that I realize it’s blood. It’s too thick to be anything else, like wine.
“Well, I can go into detail about how you died in each life by mine or my warrior's hands, if you wish. It’s up to you. Whatever happens, you and Kendric can never succeed in killing me. You never have before and you won’t ever get now or in the future.”
“Why? What happens if we succeed? You might as well entertain me, since I’m your hostage now. I have nothing better to do and it’s clear that we will never defeat you.” Though I lied through my teeth, I hope he’ll tell me more.
I know the chances of us defeating him are slim, but if there’s a way to do it, I have to know so I can try to make a plan. Maybe I can get to Kendric and free him.
He sets the glass of blood down and moves closer to the bed. Once he sits at the edge, he turns to look at me over his shoulder, blood staining his lips. It reminds me of something an owl would do, but in a more terrifying way. “Well, it ends the curse tying us all together.”
“That’s just it. I don’t understand where this curse even came from. All of my memories say we come together to stop a war and it’s always between the wolf shifter clans. I’ve seen vampires in my dreams, but it never made sense.” It’s all true, and hopefully he’ll mistake my admission as one of trust. In reality, I’m just hoping he tells me more about this curse.
“Do you know what happened during your first life?”
“I was to wed the son of the rival clan. It was to make a peace agreement between us and something about the strike of midnight. I think our lives will end at midnight in the future. That’s all I have.” I look away from him and stare at the wall.
The way he keeps looking at me is bothering me.
“Well, while it is true that you both pass at midnight in each life when the peace is well underway, there’s more to the midnight part you have yet to figure out. I’ll give you a hint. In your first life, you were promised to another.”
My attention snaps back to him, and I stare at him in disbelief. “What? No, I wouldn’t be involved in a love triangle.”
“Ah, so you don’t remember that. Now everything makes sense. Yes, you were promised to another. Do you know who that someone was?” He seems amused as our eyes lock together.
“No, I don’t remember that at all. My dreams have never revealed such a thing.” I feel completely appalled to learn that in the past I was promised to someone else, but it still doesn’t explain the curse or what it has to do with midnight. Not yet.
“Well,” Ramsey begins. “At the stroke of midnight is when you two mated. That is the only other hint I’m going to give you for now. Maybe you’ll have sweet dreams tonight and dream of who that man was. You can tell me all about it in the morning.”
I glance over at him for a second before dropping my gaze. “I’m not even tired.”
He laughs, then reaches forward to slip his fingers under my chin. “But you will be. Sleep tight. In the morning, everything is going to look different to you.”
“No, it won’t,” I whisper, but my voice is thick, heavy on my tongue. It doesn’t even sound like me.
Suddenly, the edges of my vision begin to blur, colors bleeding together like wet paint. My limbs grow sluggish, as though invisible weights have been chained to my arms and legs. A strange warmth floods my veins and my knees knock together as I try not to lie back down.
He’s staring directly into my eyes, and I realize far too late what’s happening.
The pull of his gaze is magnetic, hypnotic, like falling into the deepest part of a stormy ocean. His irises shimmer, no longer just a color but a swirling vortex of silver and red, glowing faintly in the dim light. I try to look away, but my body doesn’t respond. My will is cracking beneath the pressure of whatever power he’s using.
A flash of memory bursts through my foggy mind. It’s the moment earlier when my body shut down like a puppet with its strings cut.
It was him.
He is the reason I fell asleep.
“Sleep, wolf princess,” he croons, his voice a velvet blade that slices through the last of my resistance. “You have big things to dream about.”
He lifts a hand, fingers moving in deliberate, fluid gestures as he begins to chant. The words are unfamiliar, old, layered with dark magic. Each syllable vibrates through the air like the toll of a death bell, echoing inside my skull.
No. No, I won’t fall. I clench my fists, dig my nails into my palms until I feel skin break, but even pain can't anchor me. My body tilts forward slightly, balance slipping away.
The chanting grows louder, more rhythmic. My heartbeat slows, lulled by the cadence, by the invisible strings wrapping around my mind like vines.
The pull to sleep becomes unbearable. My eyelids flutter, burning with the effort to stay open.
I try to speak, to scream, to claw my way back to consciousness—but I’m already losing the fight.
And then darkness.
My body sags, falling like something that has been cut loose.
He doesn’t stop chanting. The words twist around me even in unconsciousness, pulling me deeper. And then I’m sucked into the dream.
A place I didn’t choose. A memory I wish I could forget.
A nightmare wrapped in prophecy, cloaked in blood and fire.
I wish I hadn’t fallen asleep. Because this dream… this one changes everything.
Everything feels cold. It’s a bone-deep, soul-aching cold. Not the kind you dress for, but the kind that seeps through your skin and makes a home in your chest like frostbite.
Winter is here in its fullest, cruelest form. The trees are nothing more than skeletal outlines, their branches stretched toward the gray sky like twisted hands pleading for mercy from the never ending chill. Not a single leaf clings to them anymore. Instead, the ground is a blanket of brittle decay with leaves long dead and forgotten, piled in thick drifts along a narrow, winding path that seems to lead nowhere.
Everywhere I step, there's a loud, grating crunch underfoot, each one sharper than the last. The sound echoes in the silence, piercing and lonely, as though the earth itself is crying out with every movement I make. My own breath fogs in front of me, curling and drifting like ghostly smoke that rises higher than my head before vanishing in the still air.
The silence is unnatural. No birds or wind. No distant rustle of animals moving through the brush. Just me, the crunching leaves, and the low hum of static dread that clings to everything.
I pause, drawing in a deep breath through my nose. The air is crisp and clean, almost painfully so, and it burns as it enters my lungs. My fingers twitch, already numbed by the chill. I wrap my arms around myself and glance around the barren landscape, trying to pinpoint what feels so wrong.
The louder the crunching becomes with each step, the more it grates against my nerves. It feels like something is drawing closer. Something beneath the ground or hiding just out of sight, mimicking my steps, inching ever nearer with each shift of my weight.
“Hello?” I call out, my voice sharp and unsure. It seems to fall flat, swallowed by the vast emptiness surrounding me.
No answer.
I take a few more hesitant steps, heart hammering in my chest. “Hello? Can someone tell me where I am?”
Nothing. Not even an echo.
Panic coils in my belly like smoke curling through the cold air. “I was speaking with Ramsey,” I call out, louder this time, almost pleading. “And then everything changed here. I don’t even know if I’m asleep.”
Still, no response. Just the crunching beneath my boots and the deafening quiet that follows.
The wind finally stirs, just a whisper at first. but it carries something with it.
A faint voice. A name. My name.
Soft, almost too soft to hear, but unmistakable.
Then silence again.