Joxi_Jash

When fiery, ambitious Isabella Carter clashes with arrogant yet brilliant Alexander Blackwood, sparks fly—but not in a good way. As rivals in the corporate world, they stop at nothing to sabotage each other. But when fate forces them into an unexpected partnership, the line between hate and love begins to blur.
Will their hatred burn into something deeper, or will their pride keep them apart forever?

From Nemises To Lovers

The halls of the Eastern Library were colder than usual.

Alexander paced between the towering shelves, lantern in hand, trailing the soft echo of his boots across the marble floor. The scent of ash clung to his cloak—the aftermath of battle still woven into his breath. He should have been resting. But the mirror haunted him.

He paused before a forbidden section, marked in old dialects that even seasoned scholars feared to speak aloud. The tomes behind the silver gate weren't meant for kings or soldiers. They were meant for seers.

She met him there, already holding a volume wrapped in dragonhide. Her fingers traced the spine absently, as if she'd known exactly where to find it.

> "You couldn't sleep either," she said without looking up.

Alexander shook his head. "That mirror showed me something. Something wrong. A version of myself... but twisted."

Isabella looked up now, brow furrowing. "You saw the reflection?"

> "It smiled," he replied. "And not like me. Not anymore."

She opened the book slowly. Inside, drawings of the obsidian mirror filled page after page—its earliest known form carved during the reign of the First Flame, the forgotten ruler who once walked as both man and god.

> "This mirror doesn't show who you are," Isabella whispered. "It shows who you could become… if you gave in."

Alexander's jaw clenched. "Then we destroy it. Before it twists more than reflections."

> "We can't. Not yet. It's not just a mirror, Alexander. It's a lock. And something behind it… is knocking."

That night, as they returned to the throne room, the air was different—thicker, charged.

The runes binding the mirror glowed faintly, but a crack had spread further across the surface like a jagged vein.

The reflection shimmered. This time, he didn't see himself.

He saw Isabella—but not the woman standing beside him.

This Isabella bled shadow. Her eyes burned silver.

And when she raised her hand in the reflection, the real Isabella gasped beside him—her fingers mirroring the same motion, against her will.

And Alexander knew then: their war hadn't ended.

Chapter 137: Echoes of the First Flame