Luna Carter had sworn she wouldn't go back to the library.
She told herself that three times while brushing her teeth, four times while passing her bookshelf, and a final time as she stared at the chipped teacup resting beside her window. The teacup that had cracked the moment she touched that cursed book.
> No more signs, she had whispered. No more hauntings. No more Asher.
And yet—
When the storm rolled in, and the sky cracked open like a broken mirror, she knew.
Fate was dragging her back anyway.
---
It began with a surge. Power blinking. Lights stuttering.
Her apartment trembled as thunder slammed against the city skyline, and her phone lit up with a single, urgent notification:
> LIBRARY ARCHIVES – EMERGENCY SYSTEM FAILURE
"All volunteers requested. Rare texts vulnerable. Need backup."
She wasn't even officially a volunteer anymore. Not since the last incident. Not since the book.
She stared at the screen.
Her thumb hovered. Her heart thudded.
And then—click.
---
The library's glass dome shook under the weight of rain. Water streamed down the arched windows like silver veins, and the flickering fluorescent lights above the archive room buzzed like angry insects.
And there he was.
Asher Hawthorne.
Drenched. Furious. Standing in the center of the room like a man pulled straight from a gothic romance with too many unresolved emotions.
He turned the moment she entered.
His eyes locked on hers like they'd known she was coming.
Luna stopped cold. Her soaked hoodie clung to her arms. Water dripped down her nose.
> "Of course," she muttered under her breath. "The universe just loves humiliating me in front of this man."
---
"You came," Asher said.
His voice was lower than usual — tight, barely restrained.
"You sound disappointed," Luna replied, already regretting every choice she'd made since waking up.
"I'm not."
She arched a brow. "Well, don't strain yourself showing it."
He didn't rise to the bait.
Instead, he looked down. At her hands.
The same ones that had trembled when she touched the cursed book. The same ones that had glowed — just faintly — under the archive lights.
She tucked them into her sleeves.
Too late.
He noticed.
---
They worked in silence.
Carefully re-shelving damaged books, drying covers with cloth towels, lifting volumes from puddles left by the leaking windows.
Occasionally, their hands brushed the same spine. Neither said a word. The tension between them crackled louder than the storm.
"Why are you here?" she finally asked, wiping a drenched page.
"I consult for the city's preservation board," he said without looking up. "They called me."
Of course they did. He probably had a direct line to every committee in town. Luna resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
But when she looked over, something in his expression made her pause.
He didn't look angry. Or smug.
He looked… haunted.
---
The lights flickered.
Then again.
And that's when it happened.
Luna reached for a book—her fingers grazing the leather spine—and suddenly:
Flash.
A burning temple.
A man in chains.
A woman — her — kneeling beside him, eyes brimming with tears.
> "May this bind your soul until you learn love."
She traced a glowing symbol across his chest. His scream shook the floor.
The fire roared.
And her heart—
Her heart broke.
---
"Luna!"
Someone grabbed her.
Her vision snapped back into focus.
Asher stood in front of her, hands gripping her arms. His coat was soaked. His eyes searched her face, equal parts fear and fury.
"You spaced out again," he said, breath sharp.
"I'm fine," she whispered.
"You're not."
"You're not my doctor."
"No," he said, more softly this time. "But ever since you showed up in my life, things have been—wrong."
She stepped back, shaking off his hands. "Define 'wrong.'"
He stared at her like she'd just asked the sun to explain itself.
"Lights flicker when you're near," he said. "Doors open without being touched. My dreams… are changing. And you—"
He stopped himself.
Luna crossed her arms. "Say it."
"You keep collapsing in front of me. You keep looking at me like you know me. And every time I get close to you, I feel—"
"What?"
A pause.
Then, in the quietest voice she'd ever heard from him:
> "Like I've lost you before."
---
The air between them stretched, fragile as glass.
Luna's chest ached. She turned away.
She hadn't meant for this to happen. Hadn't meant for the curse to reach this far. She'd only wanted to bury it. Move on. Let him live in peace.
But fate…
Fate never forgets.
And now he was remembering her.
Not fully.
Not yet.
But enough.
Too much.
---
The sprinkler system chose that exact moment to activate.
With a loud mechanical click, water sprayed from the ceiling. Books toppled. Papers flew. A librarian shrieked in the distance.
And Luna?
She slipped.
---
Right into him.
They hit the floor hard. Her knee knocked into his thigh, and she landed squarely on his chest, palms flat against him.
He groaned. "Again?"
"Don't flatter yourself," she gasped.
"Are you incapable of staying upright around me?"
"Are you incapable of not being underfoot during catastrophic moments?"
Their eyes met.
Rain. Chaos. Fluorescent lights flickering. The smell of soaked parchment and old dust. And beneath it all — that unbearable heat between them.
The warmth of something that should have died lifetimes ago.
Luna pushed herself off him, face flaming. "You're fine," she snapped.
"Thanks for the inspection," he muttered, wringing out his shirt.
---
A moment later, the fire alarm stopped blaring.
The room emptied slowly. Librarians rushed to salvage books. Interns waded through puddles.
Luna sat on a bench near the west window, still dripping, arms wrapped tightly around herself.
She didn't notice Asher approaching until he sat beside her, just barely out of reach.
They didn't speak.
For a long time, there was only the patter of rain.
Then—
"I saw something," he said. "When I touched you."
She looked at him, startled.
"A room. On fire. A woman crying. Symbols. A curse."
Luna's stomach twisted.
He wasn't supposed to see yet.
Not this soon.
"What do you think it means?" she asked softly.
He looked at her.
And for once, his voice held no edge. Only wonder.
> "I think we've met before."
---
Silence.
Thunder rolled across the city. A siren wailed in the distance.
Luna forced a laugh. "You think we're what? Reincarnated lovers?"
He didn't answer.
But he didn't deny it either.
---
When Luna returned home that night, she stood in the shower far longer than necessary. Hot water washed away the grime. The panic. The truth.
But not the memory.
The curse was weakening.
She could feel it. Every time he touched her, it unraveled just a little more.
She wasn't ready for what came next.
And neither was he.
---
Back in the city, on the top floor of a private tower overlooking Willow Creek, a woman watched the rain.
Sienna Vale sipped her wine and smiled faintly.
"The curse bends," she whispered to herself. "How long before it breaks?"
She turned to the fireplace, where a familiar sigil glowed in orange light.
> The Mark of Seraphina
Her lips curved.
> "Let's see what you do next, little Luna."
---
End of Chapter