Adrian's POV
The sword went through my heart.
I screamed and jerked awake, hands grabbing at my chest. My fingers found smooth cloth instead of blood. No wound. No pain. Just the phantom feeling of cold steel moving between my ribs.
"Master Adrian!"
My bedroom door crashed open. Thomas, my family's head servant, rushed in with a light. His old face was tight with worry.
"You were yelling, young master. Are you ill?"
I couldn't answer. My whole body shook. I could still feel it—Cassian's blessed sword cutting through me. Could still hear Kieran's pained cry as I fell. Could still taste blood in my mouth.
"I'm fine," I lied, voice cracking. "Just a nightmare."
Not a fear. A memory.
Thomas frowned but didn't argue. "Shall I bring you warm milk? Your father always said it helps with bad dreams."
"No. Thank you. I just need a moment alone."
He paused, then bowed and left. The door clicked shut.
The second I was alone, I jumped out of bed and ran to the corner of my room. My hands fumbled at the floors, finding the loose one by memory. I pried it up.
The journal was still there.
My fingers shook as I pulled out the leather-bound book. Please let it be blank. Please let this be the first time. Please—
I opened it.
Pages and pages of my own handwriting stared back at me.
"No," I whispered. "No, no, no."
First attempt: Tried to warn Kieran straight. He thought I was crazy. Didn't trust me. Still found the conspiracy. Still died. I died three days later when Cassian found out I knew.
Second attempt: Stayed away from Kieran totally. Thought if we never met, he'd be safe. He still found the truth. Still died. This time I wasn't there to even try to help. Lived with the guilt for two years before Cassian's people killed me for asking too many questions.
Third attempt: Befriended Cassian instead, tried to stop him from the inside. Failed. Cassian suspected me. Killed Kieran earlier this time—at the Academy itself. I watched it happen. Tried to expose Cassian later. He killed me in front of the whole school and called it justice.
My view blurred. Tears dripped onto the pages, ruining the ink.
This was my fourth time waking up back here. Fourth time being fourteen years old. Fourth time having to watch everyone live normal lives while I knew exactly how they'd die.
Fourth time trying to save Kieran Ashford.
I pressed the journal against my face, trying to breathe. My chest felt too tight. How many times would I have to do this? How many times would I fail?
"I can't," I said to the empty room. "I can't watch him die again."
But even as I said it, I knew I'd try anyway. I always tried. That was my curse—loving someone so much that I'd die a thousand times just for the chance to save him once.
I'd met Kieran at a merchant fair in the original timeline. He'd been seventeen, already studying at the Royal Academy. I was sixteen and bored with the business talk. We'd bumped into each other near a bookstall.
"Sorry," he'd said, helping me pick up the books I'd dropped.
Our fingers touched. His eyes met mine—gray like storm clouds.
I fell in love right there. Immediately. Completely. Like going off a cliff.
It took him six months to love me back. But when he finally did, when he finally kissed me and said "I think I need you," I knew I'd found the person I wanted to spend forever with.
Forever lasted three years before Cassian Thorne killed him.
I'd held Kieran as he bled out from Cassian's sword. His last words were "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you."
Then I woke up at fourteen again.
The second time, I was smarter. I tried to warn him early, told him about the plot. He didn't believe me. Called me paranoid. We never got close. I had to watch him die from a distance while he thought I was crazy.
The third time, I stayed away totally. Thought maybe I was the trouble. Maybe my presence caused his death somehow. But he died anyway, and I wasn't even there to hold him.
The fourth time—the last time before this one—I tried to destroy Cassian first. Befriended the golden hero. Smiled at his jokes. Acted like I admired him like everyone else. Then I tried to kill him.
Failed. He caught me. And he killed Kieran right in front of me as punishment before ending my life too.
Now this was the fifth try.
I looked at the book in my hands. All my mistakes written down. All my mistakes recorded.
I walked to my desk and lit a candle.
"No more," I said quietly.
I held the journal over the flame. The pages caught fire, twisting and blackening. All that pain and failure turning to ash. I didn't need it anymore. I had every try memorized in my head—every single way I'd failed burned into my memory.
This time would be different.
This time, I wouldn't warn Kieran. Wouldn't stay away. Wouldn't try to fight Cassian alone.
This time, I'd do whatever it took. Lie to everyone. Manipulate events. Become a monster myself if necessary.
I didn't care about being good anymore. I just cared about keeping Kieran living.
A knock on my door made me jump. I shoved the burning book into the fireplace.
"Master Adrian?" Thomas's voice called. "Your father begs your presence. There's been a change in plans."
My heart sank. "What kind of change?"
"The supply contract talks with the military. General Ashford has asked you to stay at his estate for a few days while the details are finalized. Your father thinks it would be good for you to watch the process."
Every thought in my head stopped.
General Ashford. Kieran's father.
I wasn't supposed to meet the Ashford family for two more years. This never happened in any past timeline.
"When?" I asked, voice barely steady.
"We leave this afternoon."
This afternoon. I'd be in the same place as Kieran Ashford today.
Two years early.
My mind raced. This was wrong. This changed everything. In all my earlier attempts, I'd had time to prepare before meeting him. Time to build a plan. Time to figure out how to approach him without seeming crazy.
Now I'd be face to face with him in a few hours.
What would I say? How would I act? Would he recognize something in me like I recognized something in him?
More importantly—why was this happening now? What made this period different?
Unless...
A cold feeling spread through my chest.
What if Kieran remembered too?
What if I wasn't the only one who'd been reborn?
The thought scared and thrilled me at the same time. If Kieran remembered, we could work together. We could change everything. But if he remembered and blamed me for the past mistakes...
I grabbed the ends of my desk, trying to steady myself.
"Master Adrian?" Thomas called again. "Shall I prepare your things?"
"Yes," I said. My voice sounded strange. Hollow. "Prepare everything."
A few hours later, I sat in a carriage going to the Ashford estate. My hands wouldn't stop shaking.
Please don't remember, I thought desperately. Please just be normal. Let me protect you without you knowing.
But even as I thought it, part of me hoped he did remember. Hoped I wouldn't have to carry this alone anymore.
The Ashford estate came into view. My stomach twisted into knots.
Inside that house was Kieran. Fifteen years old. Alive.
The boy I'd died for four times already.
The carriage stopped. A helper opened the door. I stepped out on legs that barely held me.
General Ashford met my father in the entrance hall. I barely heard the talk. My eyes kept sweeping the room, looking for gray eyes and dark hair.
Then a helper showed us to the dining room for breakfast.
And there he was.
Kieran Ashford sat at the table, frozen in the doorway. His sister said something cheerful. His father introduced us.
But I couldn't look away from Kieran's face.
His eyes met mine, and I saw it immediately—the same frightened look I saw in my own mirror. The look of someone who'd died and come back. Someone who'd lost everything.
He remembered.
Kieran remembered everything.
The realization hit me like a physical blow. This had never happened before. In all my earlier attempts, I'd been alone. But now— Relief and fear flooded through me in equal measure.
"You remember too," I breathed, unable to stop the words.
Kieran's face went white.
His father looked up from his papers. "What was that, young Adrian?"
I forced a smile, mind racing for an answer. "I said it's nice to meet you too, Kieran. Your father speaks highly of you."
But Kieran wasn't listening to my song. He stared at me with wide eyes, and I could see him putting the pieces together.
This changed everything.
We both remembered. We'd both died. We'd both come back.
But there was one thing Kieran didn't know. One truth I could never tell him.
In my third try, when I'd watched him die at the Academy, he'd whispered something with his last breath. Something that haunted me more than any of my other mistakes.
He'd said: "Thank you for trying, Adrian. But some people are meant to die."
Then he'd closed his eyes, and I'd screamed until my throat bled.
Now he sat across from me, living and whole, looking at me like I was a puzzle he needed to solve.
And I realized with sinking certainty: knowing we both remembered didn't make this easy.
It made it so much worse.
Because now I had to lie to the one person who might finally understand what I'd been through.
I had to lie, or he'd try to save me the way he always did.
And in every reality, when Kieran tried to save me, he died instead.