Liora's POV
They say destiny has a strange sense of humor.
At least, that's what I keep telling myself when I'm staring blankly at yet another tarot spread that practically screams soul bond at me. I'm sitting on the cold floor of my cramped apartment in Belvaria, the scent of rain-soaked concrete creeping in through the cracked window. The cards are spread out in front of me like silent witnesses to my impending mental breakdown.
I stare at them. They stare back.
The Lovers. The Six of Cups. The Two of Cups. The Wheel of Fortune. The World.
"You've got to be kidding me," I mutter under my breath.
It started as a joke — a little curiosity-fueled dive into spiritual readings. Everyone in my circle was dabbling, so why not me? I didn't even believe in this stuff. Or at least, I didn't until the same message kept echoing back at me from different decks, different readers, different everything.
There is someone. You have a soul bond.
A connection that predates time.
A partner waiting to awaken.
Right.
And apparently, that someone is a rising global artist from Westmoor — Julian Hart. Yes, that Julian Hart. The brooding musical genius with a voice that sounds like velvet and a face that has been declared a UNESCO world heritage site by thirsty fans across the world.
My first reaction? Hysterical laughter. Followed by mild hyperventilation.
What are the odds that out of eight billion people on this chaotic rock, he would be the one? The man whose face is plastered across billboards, whose voice I only knew from late-night playlists and social media clips?
Delusional. That's what it sounded like.
But no matter how many times I shuffled the deck, how many ways I asked, the answer never changed. It just got louder, more insistent. Until even the skeptic in me started wondering if maybe, just maybe, the universe wasn't playing a sick joke.
And then came the dreams.
Vivid, haunting, bone-deep dreams that felt more like memories than figments of imagination. Dreams of distant lands I've never been to, of eyes I've never met, of a bond that felt… old. Ancient. Like coming home to someone I'd never seen, but somehow always known.
I should have walked away then.
But no. I had to poke the sleeping bear. Or rather, the sleeping soulmate.
I chuckle dryly. "Sleeping," I whisper. "More like hibernating through lifetimes."
Because here's the kicker — I've awakened. I remember. I see the threads the universe has so graciously tangled for me.
And him? Julian Hart? The man at the center of this ridiculous, cosmic joke?
He's still asleep.
Oblivious. Unaware. Living his perfect, glittering life while I'm here wrestling with visions, half-truths, and a gnawing sense of waiting for someone who may never open his eyes.
So yeah — destiny? Definitely has a twisted sense of humor.
But the universe isn't done yet. Because even with all this doubt, this disbelief gnawing at my edges, there's this stubborn ember of knowing deep inside me.
That tiny whisper that says…
He will wake up.
He will remember.
And our worlds — two fractured halves — will collide.
But until then…
I'm the one who remembers.