The smell of iron hung thick in the air.
Liana's vision blurred as she crawled across the cold, cracked floor, leaving behind a dark trail of her own blood. Her limbs trembled. Her heart drummed violently, slowing with each beat.
She could hear them — the quiet footsteps of betrayal.The familiar voices of people she once trusted.
Her breath hitched as a shadow stepped into view.
"You should've stayed obedient, Liana," a cold voice murmured. "Look at you now. Pathetic."
Another kick slammed into her ribs. Pain shot through her body in a blinding burst, but she didn't scream. She refused to give them that.
Her fingers closed around something—thin, sharp, metallic.
A shattered glass.
Their laughter echoed as they turned away.
Fools.
With every last bit of will left in her, Liana pushed herself upright. Her body shook violently. Blood dripped from her lips. But her eyes—fierce, burning—never wavered.
She raised the glass shard.
And slit her own throat.
The world… fell silent.
No more pain.
No more betrayal.
Only darkness.
But death was not her end.
A faint warmth bloomed in her chest—slow, steady, like a heartbeat awakening after a long sleep.
Ba-dump… ba-dump…
Her fingers twitched.
Her eyelashes fluttered.
Liana's eyes snapped open—gasping sharply as if surfacing from deep water.
She sat up abruptly, chest heaving, her hands flying to her neck—
Smooth. Unscarred. Whole.
Her surroundings were unfamiliar and yet… painfully familiar.
A small bedroom. Sunlight filtering through thin curtains. The faint scent of old books. A soft hum of morning chatter outside the door.
It couldn't be.
Her breath caught as she rushed to the mirror beside the bed.
A younger face stared back at her.
Her cheeks—still rounder.
Her eyes—brighter.
Her hair—longer.
"No…" she whispered, voice trembling. "This is… five years before my death."
Memories flooded like a violent storm.
The betrayal.
Her downfall.
Her pathetic final moments.
Her hand tightened into a fist.
"If fate has given me another chance…" she murmured, her eyes turning cold, "I'll rewrite everything."
The door suddenly creaked.
A tall figure stood there, half-hidden by the frame.
A familiar voice — low, steady, dangerously gentle.
"Liana… you're awake."
Her spine stiffened.
That voice…
That presence…
Lucien.
Her guardian.Her shadow.Her obsession.Her doom.
In her past life, she never noticed how closely he watched her.
How deep his devotion ran.
How dark that devotion really was.
But now, with reborn eyes, she saw it clearly — the possessiveness quietly burning beneath his calm expression.
"Did something happen?" he asked softly, stepping closer. "You look frightened."
His fingertips almost touched her cheek.
Liana stepped back.
His faint smile didn't falter — it only sharpened.
"Good," he murmured. "Stay close to me, Liana… I won't let anything take you away."
But she remembered the truth.
Lucien didn't like losing what he thought belonged to him.
Not even to death.
And in this life, she wouldn't be blind again.