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At first, Hazel thought she was awake.
The air was warm and honey-thick, carrying the scent of lilacs and wild mint. Sunlight spilled in golden stripes through the canopy above, catching the soft sway of her silver hair as she walked barefoot through a forest that hummed with life. The ground beneath her feet was moss and silk; flowers leaned toward her like old friends greeting her return.
She laughed — light and unguarded — a sound she couldn't remember last making. Her dress was soft, flowing white fabric patterned with flowers that shimmered faintly in the sunlight, the kind of island attire that whispered freedom. The breeze tugged playfully at her skirt, lifting it just enough for the sunlight to kiss her skin.
There was no fear, no storm, no ruins.
Only peace.
She twirled beneath the hanging boughs of a willow tree, her laughter scattering the petals like silver rain.
Then she collided with someone.
Strong arms caught her waist before she could fall — large, warm, steady. The impact stole her breath, and when she looked up, her heart stopped.
He was beautiful — impossibly so. Midnight hair falling carelessly over sharp cheekbones, eyes the color of burning ember and dusk, and that smile — soft, startled, as though she had stepped out of one of his dreams.
"Hades," she whispered, though she didn't know how she knew his name.
He blinked, visibly taken aback. "You know me?"
Her lips curved. "I think I always have."
The air around them thickened. The willow swayed above, its leaves whispering secrets in a tongue older than sound.
He brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear. "You shouldn't be here," he said softly. "This forest belongs to no one."
"Then perhaps," she smiled, "it belongs to us both."
He laughed — low, beautiful, disbelieving. "A human with courage. I should be afraid of you."
"Maybe you are."
Their gazes locked, and the forest stilled. The world seemed to hold its breath, watching the moment when something eternal began.
The scene shifted — gently at first, like pages turning in a dream.
Flash —
Nighttime, the same willow tree, but now lit by moonlight. He was waiting for her, the same demon boy, eyes glowing softly. She ran to him, breathless, and he caught her with a laugh. He always came for her after dusk, when the world slept. They spoke in whispers and laughter and touches that left the air trembling.
Flash —
The two of them, older now, standing beneath the same tree draped in wildflowers. Their hands were joined. She wore a garland crown; he pressed his forehead against hers. "Marry me here," he had said, voice breaking. "Where the stars first found us." She nodded, tears gleaming like diamonds. The willow rustled its blessing.
Flash —
A home carved from stone and firelight. His realm. His world. He carried her inside, their laughter echoing down the hallways. The sound of it filled her chest with warmth so fierce it hurt.
Flash —
And then — static.
Glitches.
The warmth flickered. The laughter distorted.
The next image tore through her mind like lightning. Blood.
Everywhere. Splattered on stone. Dripping from her hands. She stared down at them — trembling, red, wet. Her hands.
A sound, faint — a gasp, then a low voice that trembled with pain.
She looked up.
Hades stood before her, his chest open, blood pooling from the corner of his lips, his heart in her hand, on fire. He smiled — broken, tender, as though the sight of her, even drenched in his death, was still beautiful.
Her vision burned white with flames. Wings — enormous and burning — unfolded behind her. Her scream shook the sky.
And then—
Nothing.
Hazel jolted awake, gasping.
Her heart pounded so hard it hurt. The room was dark, the air cold. She was trembling when the sheets rustled beside her and Hades sat up instantly, crimson eyes glowing faint in the darkness.
"Haze— what is it?" He reached for her, hands steady despite the alarm in his tone.
She pressed a hand against her chest, trying to steady her breath. "I… I had a dream," she whispered. "I saw you."
His brows furrowed, concern softening his face. "Was I that terrible in it?"
She almost laughed, voice breaking. "No. You were— beautiful. We were—" She hesitated. "Happy."
He exhaled, relief loosening his shoulders. "Then it was only a dream."
Her lips parted, words catching in her throat. She wanted to tell him about the blood, the fire, the way he smiled as he died — but her voice betrayed her. "Yes," she lied softly. "Only a dream."
He brushed his thumb over her cheek. "Go back to sleep," he murmured, leaning down to kiss her forehead. "You're safe here."
She nodded, though her heart wouldn't slow. He lay back beside her, and she turned on her side to face the faint glow of the window. Tears slipped down her face unbidden.
Why was she crying?
It was just a dream.
Or was it?
Morning came quietly, sunlight filtering through frost-paned windows. Hades had already left with Ares and Lycan to continue the investigation. The emptiness of the chamber felt strange without his presence — the bed still faintly warm where he'd lain.
Hazel dragged herself into the bath, the steam easing the knots in her muscles but not the unease curling in her stomach. She'd seen his face so clearly — not the Hades she knew, but the one she had loved long before she was her.
The knock at the door startled her. "Come in," she called softly.
Alyssa stepped inside, carrying a bundle of folded clothes. Her black hair gleamed in the morning light. "I thought you might want something comfortable to wear," she said warmly.
Hazel smiled gratefully. "You're a lifesaver. I was starting to think I'd have to steal one of Hades' shirts again."
Alyssa laughed, setting the clothes down. "That would certainly make the guards blush."
When Hazel emerged from the bath, Alyssa helped her lace into the dress — a long white gown with off-shoulder sleeves, embroidered with silver-blue floral patterns that shimmered as she moved. A matching hooded cloak draped around her shoulders. Hazel tied her hair up into a ponytail, leaving two soft strands at the sides that framed her face.
Alyssa stepped back, smiling. "You look celestial."
Hazel froze. The word struck her chest like a bell.
Celestial.
Like her dream. Like the woman she'd been beneath the willow.
"I had a dream," Hazel said quietly. "It felt so real."
Alyssa raised a brow. "Tell me."
As they walked through the corridor, Hazel described it — the forest, the willow, the boy she met, how they fell in love, how happy they were. Her voice softened with every word, her eyes distant as if reliving the warmth. But she left out the ending — the blood, the fire, the heart in her hands.
When she finished, Alyssa looked thoughtful. "Dreams like that aren't always imagination," she said gently. "Sometimes they're echoes — memories that survived through lifetimes."
"Memories?" Hazel's heart stumbled.
"It happens," Alyssa continued. "Souls bound deeply — lovers, enemies, kin — their stories repeat through time. Maybe you and Hades have always found each other."
Hazel smiled faintly, though her hands trembled inside her cloak. "That's a nice thought."
Alyssa grinned. "It is. Maybe you were lovers before, and the world simply found a way to bring you back together."
They turned a corner, and Hazel caught her reflection in a silver-paneled mirror — her silver hair glowing softly, her eyes rimmed with faint gold light. A stranger stared back.
"If that's true," she murmured, "then what did we do to deserve such a curse?"
Alyssa didn't hear her. Or perhaps she pretended not to.
Hazel pressed her palm against her chest where her heart still raced — remembering the weight of another heart in her dream, warm and fading.
If it truly was a memory…
then she had killed him once.
And what if she was destined to do it again?