The night was colder than ever, the city lights nothing but distant stars in their desperate escape. Adrian and Lina stumbled into an abandoned warehouse, breaths ragged, hands still tightly locked together.
For a moment, silence surrounded them. The chaos outside seemed far away. Lina pressed her back against a wall, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Adrian's face was bruised, blood trickling from his lip, but his eyes… his eyes were still fixed on her, as though she was the only thing anchoring him to this world.
"Adrian," she whispered, voice trembling, "tell me the truth. No more running. Who are they? Why do they want me?"
He closed his eyes, as if the weight of her question was heavier than the fight he had just survived. Slowly, he stepped closer, his hand brushing hers.
"They think you're… her."
Her breath caught. "Her? Who?"
Adrian's jaw clenched, his voice breaking as he confessed:
"Years ago… I loved someone. Her name was Elara. She was everything. But because of me—because of one reckless decision—she was killed. And the men hunting us now? They believe you're connected to her… that somehow, you're the key to finishing what she started."
Lina's heart twisted painfully. She searched his face, torn between compassion and fear. "And what if I am connected to her?"
His eyes darkened, fierce yet vulnerable. "Then I'll protect you, even if it destroys me. I won't let history repeat itself."
Before she could reply, a sudden crash echoed through the warehouse. The doors burst open—armed men flooding in, weapons drawn.
But then… a voice, cold and sharp, rose above the chaos.
"Adrian."
From the shadows stepped a woman. Her figure graceful, her eyes burning with something more dangerous than hatred.
Lina froze, her mind reeling. Adrian's face drained of color. His lips parted in disbelief.
"Elara?" he breathed.
Lina's world shattered. The woman he claimed was dead… the woman he once loved… was standing right in front of them.