"Please… don't do anything to her! I'll do anything you ask!"
Avian's voice cracked as he knelt on the cold marble floor, his clothes torn, his body battered and bleeding. Blood seeped from cuts across his arms, chest, and forehead, dripping down to stain the once-pristine tiles. His eyes, however, were fixed on the woman standing at knife's edge.
Camille stood trembling, her wrists bound behind her back. Her long white hair usually so graceful, tangled and damp with tears. A muscular man with a scarred face held a blade against her throat, the steel gleaming under the chandelier's light.
Around them stood men and women in suits, gowns, and jeweled accessories, watching like spectators at a cruel performance. They were nobles, businessmen, and leaders, his own family among them and as well as hers.
Avian's desperate cries echoed through the hall, but no one moved to help.
"Avian…" Camille's lips trembled, her voice was soft but steady. She forced a weak smile through her tears.
"Don't beg for me. You've already given me everything… I'll always be a part of you… no matter what happens."
Her words barely left her lips when the knife cut across her throat. The sound was sharp, final.
Blood poured down her neck, spreading across her pale skin like crimson ink. Her body crumpled to the marble, her silky white hair fanning out stained red. Even as life slipped away from her, her beauty was angelic almost unreal.
"Camille!"
Avian's scream shook the hall. He staggered to his feet despite his wounds and rushed forward, collapsing beside her. His arms wrapped around her lifeless body, pulling her close. He shook her shoulders, calling her name again and again, his voice raw.
"Wake up… please… you can't leave me like this. Camille… Camille!"
Tears streamed down his face, falling onto her cold cheeks. But she didn't respond. Her chest no longer rose. Her eyes slowly closed, forever.
The room was silent, except for his broken cries. Then, a woman in a sapphire gown stepped forward, her voice cold as ice.
"She is dead. Now it's your turn!"
A middle-aged man in a black suit, his presence commanding, folded his hands behind his back. His deep voice carried across the hall.
"Avian, you chose to disobey your family. You should have known the price. Consider this your punishment."
He gestured with a flick of his hand.
The scarred man known as Kwame nodded. His thick voice rumbled like distant thunder. "As you command, Master."
Kwame stepped forward, still holding the bloodstained blade. He looked down at Avian and, almost mockingly, said, "Forgive me, Young Master. Orders are orders."
Before Avian could respond, the knife plunged into his shoulder. Pain exploded through his body, but he didn't let go of Camille. Another strike tore into his back, then another, and another.
Yet Avian did not flinch. His tears had stopped. His arms refused to release the woman he loved. His face, pale and bloodied, softened into a strange calm as he lowered his lips to Camille's forehead.
"I'm sorry," he whispered against her skin, voice trembling. "I couldn't protect you. But if there is an afterlife… I will find you. I'll protect you, no matter what."
His gaze lifted, and for the first time, he truly looked at the people standing before him—his family, her family. The very people who once smiled at him and her but now standing with cold faces as if her life meant nothing.
"You… all of you…" Avian's voice deepened, his eyes sharpening like blades. "Once, I respected you. Once, I obeyed every word. But you've taken my wife from me…"
"Do you think your wealth and power make you untouchable? Arrogance will be your ruin. I swear… I will take everything from you!"
Kwame sneered. With a sudden kick, he slammed Avian's head into the floor, the crack echoing. He tossed aside the knife and drew a heavy dagger, its blade glowing red with heat as he poured his strength into it.
"Enough talk. Die!"
The dagger came down with brutal force, slicing clean through Avian's neck. His head rolled across the marble, leaving a trail of blood before coming to a stop.
His body collapsed on top of Camille's, the two lying together in a final embrace.
The middle-aged man, the family head, did not flinch at the carnage. He turned to the servants at the back of the hall.
"Clean up the mess. This meeting is over."
One by one, the nobles turned and left, their footsteps echoing through the grand hall as if nothing had happened.
Blood soaked into the marble. The chandelier's light flickered. And the bodies of Avian and Camille lay together in silence.
Avian's story did not end there!
As the last beat of his heart stilled, something stirred deep within him. His vision blurred, darkness pulling him under. His final thought was not of revenge, but of her smile and the memories they spent together.
When his eyes opened again, he was no longer bleeding on marble floors. He was back years earlier. His body was whole, his youth restored. The calendar read twenty-one.
Camille was still alive somewhere in the world. They had not yet met.
"This time…" he clenched his fists, his gaze sharp and unyielding.
This time no one would take her from him.
This time he would destroy them all.