Jayden was burning.
Her breaths came in soft, shallow pants as her body trembled under the thick blanket. Sweat clung to her skin like a second layer, her cheeks flushed, her lashes fluttering with each shallow inhale.
Azrael sat beside her, his eyes dark with something unreadable. Anger? Worry? Whatever it was, it made the air around him heavy and possessive. He hadn't moved from his spot in hours—just sat silently, watching her with that predatory gaze.
"You keep staring..." she whispered weakly.
"I'm watching you fight something I should've destroyed before it ever touched you," he said, low and tight.
Jayden smiled faintly. "Since when does death care about the living?"
He leaned in, dipping a cloth into cool water and wringing it slowly, deliberately. His hands brushed her bare shoulder as he pressed it to her forehead, causing her breath to hitch.
"I don't care about the living," he murmured. "I care about you."
Her eyes fluttered open. "Why?"
He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he leaned closer, so close she could feel the coldness of his breath against her fevered skin.
"Because you're mine."
Her heart skipped. The words burned hotter than her fever.
"Y-You're being dramatic…"
He chuckled softly. "Am I? Then why is your heart racing?"
She turned away, flustered, and he reached out, his fingers lightly tracing down her arm. "I can hear it, Jayden. Every beat. Every tremble. Do you want me to stop?"
"No…" Her voice was barely a whisper.
His hand lingered on her wrist before he finally pulled back. "Sleep. I'll stay until you're better."
She didn't want to sleep—not yet. She wanted to hold onto the heat in his touch.
But exhaustion won.
She slipped into darkness and found herself in a dream—one she wasn't prepared for.
She stood barefoot in a palace hallway. Her small hands trembled as guards passed her without seeing. The walls were draped in royal blue and gold. Ahead, a warm voice called out to her.
"Jayden…"
It was Aurora.
Her nanny stood with open arms, crying, trying to protect her. She looked older now, her soul still carrying the weight of what had happened. "You have to remember," she said, her voice cracking. "You must find the truth."
Then came the flames. Screams. And behind her, a shadow—the demon Sage—possessing her tiny body.
Aurora whispered one last thing before darkness claimed the dream:
"Run. Don't let the curse consume you."
Jayden woke with a gasp, soaked in sweat. Her fingers gripped the blanket, her chest heaving.
Azrael wasn't there.
She rose shakily, stepping outside the cave into the cold morning air. But it wasn't morning.
It was too quiet.
Suddenly, a ghost lunged from the trees—its face twisted in fury, smoke rolling off its scorched skin.
Jayden screamed. "Stay back!"
But before it could touch her, a ripple of unseen force exploded around her. The ghost stopped midair, frozen.
Jayden's eyes widened. "Stop," she whispered.
The ghost obeyed... and vanished.
She collapsed to her knees, breathing hard. Her left eye pulsed with pain—a flash of silver.
Azrael appeared moments later in a flurry of shadows, looking furious. "Who touched you?!"
"No one… a ghost… I—I made it stop."
He studied her, gaze falling to her glowing eye. "You're not just seeing them anymore," he muttered. "You're beginning to command them."
She blinked up at him. "Is that possible?"
Azrael didn't answer at first. His hand hovered near her cheek, brushing a damp strand of hair behind her ear. "It shouldn't be. But you're no ordinary human."
"I'm yours, remember?" she teased weakly.
His eyes darkened with something sharper than a threat—almost like desire. "Don't tempt me."
Jayden's cheeks flushed despite her weakness. "So... what now?"
He opened his hand and revealed the ruby necklace, glowing with a faint red pulse. "You'll wear this when I'm away. If anything touches you, anything thinks of harming you… call me. I'll come running."
She touched the gem carefully. "Why?"
His voice was low, almost a whisper. "Because if something happens to you again, Jayden… I'll tear this world apart."
Her breath caught.
He leaned closer, close enough for his lips to brush the shell of her ear. "You don't belong to them. You don't belong to the ghosts. You belong to me."
Her entire body shivered.
And even in the middle of her fever, in the fog of memories and ghosts and ancient curses—her heart beat steadily, like it knew its rhythm belonged to him.