The Name He Shouldn't Know

This couldn't be real.

Jade's thoughts swirled in a thousand directions, trying to grasp what the Pharaoh had just said.

Dreams? Of her? Since before she arrived?

Was he… drunk? Delirious? 

Her heart slammed against her ribs like it was trying to claw its way out. Maybe this was connected to the time jump. 

Maybe it wasn't a coincidence. 

Maybe the strange pull she'd felt the first time their eyes met wasn't adrenaline or fear—but something ancient. Something older than memory.

Could he know more about the amulet? About why she was here?

But all of those frantic thoughts—every logical protest, every desperate question—evaporated the moment his arms wrapped around her.

She gasped, pulled tight against his chest. Her bare skin collided with his like a crashing wave. The heat of him stole the breath from her lungs. He was solid and overwhelming—an unforgiving force of nature, masculine and immovable.

And then his mouth found hers.

Hard. Desperate. Hungry.

Like he meant to consume her. Like he meant to erase the space between them.

She pushed at him instinctively—palms sliding across slick, muscled flesh, a futile resistance against something primal. But his arms only tightened, and the kiss deepened—demanding, drowning, devouring.

A small, traitorous sound escaped her throat. Her fight faltered.

Every second stole more of her strength. Every breath made her softer.

Until finally—she gave in.

She melted into him, her lips parting beneath his as she kissed him back with just as much urgency.

Just as much hunger.

Her arms wound around his waist, and for a moment, nothing else existed. Only mouths and heat and breath and aching need. Their bodies pressed closer, friction blooming into fire.

Her nipples hardened, brushing against his chest beneath the curtain of her soaked hair. Her skin tingled—hypersensitive, electric—as if it remembered something her mind didn't. As if her body knew him.

And then—she felt it.

Hard. Solid. Pressed against her belly like a silent confession.

Her eyes flew open.

But he didn't stop.

His mouth moved with growing desperation, as though he could make her remember him—not with words, but with his body. His touch. His soul.

And for one blinding, impossible second…

She did.

A flash.

Arms around her. A voice calling her name. A kiss under a different moon.

A night from another life.

And then—gone. Slipped through her fingers like mist at sunrise.

***

She fit too perfectly in his arms. Too damn perfect.

For days, he'd forced himself to stay away—unsure if she was real or a mirage sent to torture him. The dreams had made him restless. Obsessive. 

He had searched for her in the dark—through corridors of memory he couldn't name. He'd woken choking on her name, drenched in sweat, reaching for a woman who didn't exist.

Until now.

Until her.

Jade. Real. Warm. Breathless.

In his arms.

He'd found her again.

His little ghost. The one who haunted him.

And now—he has her.

Protected. Claimed.

He kissed her deeper, claiming her, anchoring her to this reality—his reality. Her soft curves trembled against him, molded to his form like she had always belonged there.

She didn't understand it yet. But he did.

This wasn't desire. This wasn't lust.

It was need. Sacred and violent.

It was centuries of emptiness finding its missing half.

His hand slid lower, fingers splaying across the small of her back, holding her to him as if the world might steal her away.

Her chest rose and fell against his, frantic, gasping. She tasted like longing and rain.

She was real. She was here.

And this time, he wasn't letting her go.

Let the gods rage.

His mouth crashed against hers again, drowning in her sweetness. His mind swam in her presence—and that's when it happened.

The name slipped out before he could stop it.

A whisper. A breath. A prayer.

"Satsobek…"

She froze.

Her entire body tensed in his arms.

He didn't notice at first. The name still lingered on his tongue like blood and honey. He didn't even know why he'd said it—it wasn't her name.

And yet…

It felt like it was.

It felt right.

It tasted like mourning. Like a memory dug from a grave.

He pulled her closer, buried his face in her neck like he could hide from what he'd just said.

"I thought I made you up," he murmured, voice ragged. "But the gods wouldn't torture me like that. Not this time."

The name still hung between them. Heavy. Inescapable.

Satsobek.

Jade's brows furrowed. Her breath caught.

The spell shattered.

Her heart slammed back to earth as the heat between them cooled into suspicion.

"Who…" she started, voice sharp, trembling. "Who is that?"

"I don't know," he said, hoarse. Honest. "I swear to you, I don't even know why I said it."

Jade pulled away just enough to see his face, eyes searching his with a look that made his chest ache. Her heartbeat pounded like war drums in her ears.

Of course there was another woman. She should have known. He was a Pharaoh—he'd even said it. Why would she expect anything else?

"Right," she said flatly. "Well, if you're going to whisper other woman's names, maybe don't kiss me like that."

He didn't respond.

She waited—just for a moment—half-hoping for him to reach for her again. To give her a reason. An apology. A truth that made sense.

But all she got was silence.

And the space between them.

With a tight breath, Jade turned her back to him. Slowly, deliberately, she moved through the water, her body still thrumming with confusion and shame.

She stepped out, water streaming down her skin like tears.

Her robe waited for her like a reminder of who she was before this—before him. She wrapped it around herself with shaking hands and tied it tight.

At the doorway, she paused—still facing away.

"I'll see you at dinner," she said, voice flat.

Then she walked out, leaving the Pharaoh alone in the steam.

Rameses didn't move. His eyes stayed on the empty space where she'd stood, like he could will her to come back.

But she didn't.

She was gone.

His jaw tightened, the echo of her warmth still clinging to his skin… But now, all he felt was the cold ache of something missing.

Something lost.

And the haunting weight of a name he shouldn't know.

Satsobek.

A name he shouldn't know.

But somehow… he did.