The rain had stopped, but the scent of damp earth still clung to the air.
The kingdom outside her window stirred to life, but inside the small healer's quarters, Liora sat unmoving, her gaze fixed on the scar she'd seen glowing only hours ago.
Every instinct told her to flee.
Every memory told her it was too late.
When the clock struck midnight, she pressed a trembling hand to her wrist.
The faint silver crescent mark pulsed like a heartbeat.
It wasn't a wound—it was a reminder.
The curse has found you again…
She rose, lighting a single candle, and began tracing runes in the air the way she'd once learned in secret—symbols forbidden to all but the Moon Priestesses.
The glow of her magic reflected in her eyes, cold and beautiful like moonlight on water.
Suddenly, a voice—soft, ancient, feminine—echoed through her mind.
"Daughter of the moonlight… the thread of fate has not broken."
Liora froze. The candle flickered violently.
"Who's there?" she whispered, her voice trembling.
"You cannot hide what was promised.
The Moon Bride must return… or the world will bleed again beneath the crimson sky."
Her knees weakened. "No… I'm done with fate. I will not be your puppet again!"
"You cannot unmake what was sealed with your blood."
The flame extinguished on its own. Darkness swallowed the room.
For a heartbeat, Liora saw her reflection in the window—not her own gentle features but the ashen face of the dying princess, the crown crooked on her hair, eyes filled with tears and moonlight.
Then the image vanished.
A knock shattered the silence.
"Miss Elara?" The timid voice of Finn came from outside. "The prince is awake again. He's asking for you."
She swallowed the lump in her throat, forcing composure. "I'll come."
When she entered Kael's chamber, he was sitting upright, moonlight painting his silver hair with an otherworldly glow.
For a man who'd nearly died, he looked far too calm.
"You look like you've seen a ghost," he said quietly.
"Maybe I have," she muttered.
He studied her, eyes softening. "You dream too loudly, Healer Elara. I heard you whispering in your sleep. You called my name."
Her heart skipped. "You must have imagined it."
"Perhaps," he said, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Or perhaps the moon likes playing tricks."
He leaned closer, lowering his voice. "Every night, I see flashes—another life, another death. I see you standing beneath a red moon… and I hear myself telling you, 'Forgive me.' Why?"
Liora turned away, her jaw tightening. "Dreams lie, Your Highness."
Kael's hand caught her wrist again, right where the crescent mark hid beneath her sleeve.
The contact burned—light flared between them, soft but unmistakable.
"This isn't a dream," he whispered. "It reacts to me."
Liora yanked her hand free. "Stop! You don't know what you're doing!"
"Then tell me what I've forgotten," he said, voice cracking with raw confusion. "Tell me why every time I look at you, I feel guilt… and warmth… and pain."
Her lips parted, but no words came. How could she tell him the truth—that he'd once loved her enough to kill her?
That night, Liora couldn't sleep.
She sat beneath the open window, staring at the moon that had haunted her across lifetimes.
"If you truly are a goddess," she whispered, "then why bring me back to him?"
The wind answered with silence.
But somewhere distant, the temple bells began to ring—low, sorrowful, almost like an omen.
And then, faintly, the voice returned—
"Because your death was never yours to keep."
A chill ran through her. The moonlight turned crimson for a second, staining the walls with ghostly light.
Outside, thunder rolled again.
Inside, Liora clutched her pendant—the only relic from her past life—and made a vow under her breath.
"This time, I'll end the curse. Even if it means destroying him."
Unseen by her, a silhouette stood on the distant palace balcony—
a tall woman draped in silver robes, her eyes glowing faintly red.
The Empress watched the same moon, her voice soft as silk.
"So, the Moon Bride awakens… sooner than I expected."