A Ghost from the Past

Seraphine's breath caught as the figure stepped into the moonlight.

Tall. Dark-haired. Eyes like liquid gold, gleaming with something dangerous.

She knew that gaze.

"Kieran," she whispered.

A slow smile curled his lips. "You haven't forgotten me, then."

Seraphine's grip tightened on her sword. "I never forget a threat."

His smile deepened, as if amused by her defiance. "And yet, I once swore to protect you."

Her heart pounded. Kieran had been a ghost in her past—a figure lingering at the edge of her memory, always watching, always waiting. A man who had once stood at her father's side, before vanishing without a trace.

Now, he was here.

And if he was here… it meant trouble.

"You shouldn't have interfered," she said coldly.

Kieran took a step closer. "And let those fools have their way with you? No, Seraphine. If anyone gets to decide your fate, it will be me."

Her fingers twitched over her blade, but Kieran only chuckled. "You won't kill me. Not yet."

"Why are you here?" she demanded.

His expression shifted, something unreadable flickering across his face. Then, softly—dangerously—he said, "Because, little dove, I'm not the only one playing this game."

Seraphine's blood ran cold.

Kaelith.

This was bigger than her. Bigger than a simple ambush.

And Kieran had just revealed that he knew more than she did.

To be continued…

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