Kaelen didn’t hesitate.

He crossed the quiet length of the shop and stopped before the small, soot-dusted window at the back. The air trembled there, thick with old magic and something far older than time. The veil shimmered—thin, delicate, bleeding with unseen power. This was where she’d gone. Where Elara had crossed.

He could feel the echo of her presence like an ember still burning.

Without pause, Kaelen pushed his hand through the trembling membrane. A sharp jolt—a flash of searing blue energy—kissed his fingertips. It pulsed like a heartbeat. Hers.

Without another thought, he stepped through.

Duty had nothing to do with it.
He was going after the woman who had accidentally awoken a sleeping magic… and unknowingly stolen the heart of an immortal.

Elara couldn’t move.

The stranger in front of her radiated power, danger, and something else—something far deeper.

Predatory grace coiled in his every step as he moved toward her, silent and slow.

The letter opener in her hand? Useless now. She was too aware of everything: the sound of her heartbeat, the dry rasp in her throat, the weight of his gaze.

She should’ve been afraid. But instead… her blood sang.

His presence was overwhelming. He smelled like a storm rolling over a forest—wild pine, fresh earth, and something ancient that didn’t belong to this world.

Even the way the silver threads caught light in his dark coat felt like a warning. A sigil. A spell. A promise.

“Who are you?” she managed, her voice barely above a whisper.

He didn’t answer. Not yet.

Another step. And then—his voice. Deep, rough velvet. It rolled through her, sinking into her bones.

“Elara Thorne.”

Her name on his tongue sounded like a secret spell.

“We need to talk,” he said. “Time is not on our side.”

Her knees nearly gave out.
He knew her name.

And something in the way he said it felt like he’d known it forever.

“You… know me?”

“I know of you. What you are becoming.” He tilted his head slightly. “And what will be asked of you soon.”

The cryptic words made her stomach tighten. “You’re not from here.”

“No.”

His answer was cool, clipped. But his eyes—God, his eyes were storms. Shadows and fire.

“I should be scared of you,” she breathed.

A dark smile curved his lips. “You should.”

That should’ve been her cue to run. Scream. Fight. But all she could do was stare, caught in his pull.

Then—

BOOM.

The ancient grandfather clock in the corner roared to life, its bell tolling so loud it felt like the walls would crack.

Elara jumped. Glass rattled in the display cases.

The silver locket—the one she’d touched earlier—began to spin violently on its cushion.

“What the—?”

The air dropped ten degrees in an instant. Frost kissed her skin. Whispers rose from the shadows—familiar but louder now, a thousand voices screaming without shape.

She turned to the man—only to find him standing completely still, eyes narrowed. But there was a flicker of something behind them. Not confusion. Not fear. Recognition.

“Elara—don’t touch it!” he barked.

But it was too late.

The locket pulsed, blue and wild, sending a blinding wave of light across the room. It engulfed everything. Time stopped.

Elara’s breath caught as she looked at him again, now glowing in the light like a fallen god.

He flinched, ever so slightly. That same blue glow danced across his cheekbones. He looked… startled.

For the first time, the predator looked uncertain.

“Elara—listen to me,” he said through clenched teeth, voice ragged. “Step back. Now.”

But something tugged at her.

Not him. The locket.

A humming thread had latched onto her, invisible but unbreakable, pulling her forward. Her body moved on instinct.

“Elara!”

She ignored him.

Every part of her screamed as her fingers brushed the warm silver. The hum turned into a roar. Her vision exploded into white.

“No—!”

She fell.

Not onto the floor. Into nothing.

A vortex opened beneath her, swallowing her whole.

Everything—the shop, the voices, even the man—was gone.

The last thing she saw was his face. That impossible face. He reached for her—too far—eyes wide with something between fury and fear.

Then darkness.

She was falling into something older than time.

And he was left behind. Alone. With the magic waking in Havenwood.