"This is insane," he said. "I'm standing in a park at midnight talking to a stranger about dreams and mountains and fucking past life and you lived for centuries; this is fucking shit ridiculous!" He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture so familiar it made my chest ache. "I need to go.."

  "Kaelen—"

  "Stay away from me." His voice was firm, his eyes fierce. "I mean it. Stay the fuck away from me."

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  He left. This time, he didn't look back.

  I watched him disappear into the trees, and for the first time in centuries, I didn't feel despair. I felt hope. Cracked, fragile, terrifying hope.

  He remembered. Not everything. Not enough. But something in him was waking up. The dreams, the visions, the way he'd leaned into my touch like a man starving for contact—it meant something. The curse was fraying.

  And I would be there when it broke.