Chapter 64 – One Year Left

Anastasia ran into the forest, her breath catching in her throat as the wind whipped past her face. The branches of the trees blurred into streaks of green and brown, and the sounds of the night—crickets chirping, the rustle of leaves—felt distant, muted by the storm raging inside her. Bastian's words echoed in her mind, over and over.

One year left.

She couldn't grasp it. How could he tell her something like that, after everything they had been through? After all the years of longing, the grief, the dreams, and now—just when she had him back—he was going to leave again. Her chest tightened as if the world itself was closing in on her. Anastasia stopped, her hands gripping the rough bark of a tree, leaning against it, trying to steady her breathing. Anger bubbled up inside her, hot and fierce. She wanted to scream, punch something, anything to release the frustration, but instead, she stood there, seething in the silence.

The thought of losing him again felt unbearable, but more than that—she was furious. After everything, how could the universe take him away again?

Suddenly, she felt it—a prickling sensation on the back of her neck, as if she were being watched. Every hair on her body stood on end. She spun around, her pulse racing, expecting to see Bastian chasing after her.

But no one was there.

Her eyes scanned the shadows between the trees, but nothing moved. And yet, the feeling persisted—an eerie awareness that someone, or something, was watching her. The forest, usually a place of solace for her, now felt different. Ominous. She swallowed hard, forcing herself to take a step forward, then another. The further she went, the deeper the sensation of being followed grew. A shadow shifted at the edge of her vision, but when she turned to look, it was gone.

Her heart pounded, not from fear, but from anger. Whoever was out there—whatever was out there—had no right to mess with her like this. Not now. Not after everything she'd been through. "Show yourself!" she shouted into the night, her voice sharp, cutting through the stillness.

Nothing. Just the rustle of leaves in the wind.

Frustrated, Anastasia wiped away the angry tears that had escaped, her chest heaving with each breath. She wasn't going to let herself fall apart. Not again. Crying wouldn't help. Anger was better, sharper, more controlled. She could channel it, use it to keep herself steady.

As she turned back toward the house, a flicker of movement caught her eye. A shadow—too quick to be an animal—slipped between the trees, closer this time. Her breath hitched, and without thinking, she followed. She moved silently, instinctively, weeks of intense training kicking in as she pursued the shadow deeper into the woods.

The forest thickened, the trees growing denser, their branches intertwined like a labyrinth. The shadow moved again, and this time, she was certain of it—a figure slipping in and out of sight. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled again, and for a split second, she thought she recognized the movement. Something familiar in the way it moved—taunting, elusive.

Dylan.

Anastasia's blood ran cold. She hadn't seen him since the night she found out about him and her stepsister. But even now, she could never forget the way he moved, how he used to follow her silently when he thought she wasn't paying attention. The realization sent a jolt of anger through her veins. What was he doing here?

No—she was imagining it. Dylan couldn't be here. He had no place in her life anymore. He had no power over her.

Still, the sensation persisted, that familiar smirk lingering in the back of her mind. She could almost feel his presence, lurking just beyond her reach, waiting to strike. She stopped, scanning the forest again, but nothing moved now. The shadows were still, the air unnervingly quiet.

Anastasia's hands balled into fists. If he was watching, if he was somehow here, he was a fool. Whatever game he thought he was playing, it wouldn't work. She was different now. Stronger. She wasn't the girl who cried over his betrayal anymore. She wasn't the one left broken. Not after what she had been through.

She wasn't going to run.

Taking a deep breath, she turned and walked briskly back toward the house. Every step was filled with purpose, her muscles tensed, her senses alert. Even as the feeling of being watched followed her, she refused to let it control her. She had too much at stake. Dylan, if it was him, was just a ghost from the past. She wasn't about to let him haunt her again.

By the time she reached the house, the eerie silence had settled once more, but the weight of it hung heavily on her shoulders. She glanced back one last time, eyes scanning the forest edge, but there was nothing—only shadows.

Anastasia's chest tightened, her mind racing with thoughts of Bastian. She had to talk to him, to find some kind of resolution before everything spiraled out of control. The forest, with all its dark, lurking threats, was nothing compared to the storm inside her.

When she finally stepped back inside the house, the warmth hit her like a wave, but it did little to ease the tension knotted in her chest. Everyone else had gone to bed, the quiet of the house almost as unsettling as the forest outside. She made her way to Bastian's room, her heart hammering in her chest.

She knocked softly, and his voice came through the door. "Come in."

Pushing the door open, Anastasia stepped inside. Bastian was sitting on the edge of the bed, his face shadowed with the weight of their earlier conversation. His eyes met hers, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence was thick, filled with the unspoken fears and the ticking clock hanging over them both.

"I'm sorry," Bastian said, his voice breaking the tension. "I shouldn't have told you like that."

Anastasia shook her head, stepping closer. "No... I needed to know." Her voice was steady, but the storm inside her hadn't settled. "I just don't understand why you didn't tell me sooner."

Bastian's gaze dropped, his hand running through his hair in frustration. "I wanted to give you time. Time for us to be... together. Without everything hanging over us."

She sat beside him, the weight of his confession still heavy in the air. "So what now?" she asked quietly. "You just... leave?"

Bastian's jaw tightened. "I don't want to. But it's not up to me. My time here is... limited."

Anastasia's heart ached at the words, but her voice remained strong. "We'll figure it out. We always do."

But even as she said the words, doubt gnawed at the edges of her resolve. The future felt more uncertain than ever, and no amount of strength could change the truth that loomed before them.

And outside, unseen in the shadows, He watched. His smirk deepened, pleased with how easily he had slipped into her life again without detection. The angels couldn't sense him. Not yet. But soon, the real games would begin.