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“Thank you, Damien. I’ll report back as soon as we’re done,” Marcus called over his shoulder, heading off to collect his group.
“Her name was Vivienne.” The pain in his voice was raw at this point. “She was a special female, wild and untamed, born of the old bloodlines that had faded centuries ago. She was sharp as a knife, and that tongue of hers would put anyone in their place on the spot.”
“Marcus bonded the moment he saw her. Nothing made me happier than to see him mated to a female like her. They’d been together for close to two hundred years when it happened.”
In that moment, when he spoke her name, I saw her, as if she stood before me now. Her long, curly, golden-brown hair was braided and out of the way, but it was impossible to fully tame, as faint curls escaped here and there. Her tawny skin glowed in the sun, and her pale eyes were full of that fire he spoke of. I saw her with Marcus, the two of them together—a perfect match in every way. He didn’t look like the Marcus I knew. He was happy as he held her, and she him. No malice or hatred, no cruelty in his eyes. Just pure love.
“Marcus, Vivienne, and a group of ten other warriors found more than they expected that day. They stumbled upon a darkling nest. They’re rare, and it had been the first we’d found in a long time. The sheer number of darklings was overwhelming. When I got word that they hadn’t returned, I rushed to aid them with more warriors, but I was too late…” His voice lowered at his words, turning his eyes to me.
In a rush of emotions and thoughts, I was suddenly standing in dense, dark woods. The foul smell of dead darklings and freshly spilled blood hung in the air. Fallen brothers, sisters, and darklings littered the ground, their bodies ravaged in ways that made my stomach twist into knots.
The most agonizing cry rang out behind me, and I turned to find Marcus on the ground. Blood covered him as he clutched Vivienne to his chest. Her beautiful face was bloodied, her body torn and broken. Marcus' sobs tore through me, and a deep anguish sank into my chest, as if I were feeling his agony, his pain, his loss.
Tears overflowed onto my cheeks as I listened, somehow reliving the painful memory he told me, as if I’d been there firsthand. My lips quivered as the deep sorrow grew more and more painful. The agony was more than I could bear.
“She was beautiful,” I muttered weakly as my eyes wavered. The tears continued to roll down my cheeks as I sat there, listless and broken.
“Marcus was the only survivor, something dark took hold of him, and he snapped. He was never the same and he blamed me for her death. He blamed Selene, blamed anyone he could, except for the monsters who actually did it… He disappeared not long after that, collecting any immortals who didn't want to serve under Selene, and he’s had it out for me ever since.”
The pain in his expression rattled me as he reached his finger out to sweep the tears from my face. I wondered if Selene was someone who lead the immortal race. She must have some sort of hand in ruling for him to blame her.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to experience that pain, but you deserved to know.” His voice broke. “I can’t forgive him for hurting you. Regardless of our past friendship, regardless of what happened to Vivienne, he will regret the moment he laid a finger on you.”
I sat there, reeling from the emotions and feelings that weren’t my own. “Why is this happening to me, Damien?”
He hesitated, throat bobbing as he swallowed. “You were never meant to return as a human.”
“Return?" I blinked. "What are you talking about, Damien?”
“Lucia and Elena… Your visions of them. They aren’t just some visions of the past or dreams, and you're not a witch, you’re not psychic. The visions are memories of your past lives.”
The words didn't sink in at first, and any thoughts I might have formed went still. The pain in his eyes reached me, and I could feel his sorrow seep into me as he reached out to cradle my face, as if my physical presence was still hard to believe. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again….”
I lifted my hand to rest atop his, let him feel me to give him the reassurance he needed. I struggled to come to terms with what he was saying.
“Normally, it would only be fifteen to twenty years before your next reincarnation, but…” he let loose a breath. “It’s been nearly a hundred and twenty-five years since I lost you.” He sat there a moment in silence, collecting his thoughts.
Reincarnation. The word danced across my thoughts, just out of my grasp. Reincarnation. Reincarnation.
“The first time we met at The Galleria, I knew the moment I saw you. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I was skeptical, because you’ve never returned as a human before, but I could feel it. I’d know your face anywhere, even hidden beneath human skin.” His hand squeezed mine.
“So, the dreams I had, even as a child—”
He nodded. “They really happened. You’ve lived three lifetimes before this one. Each time you’re reborn, the fates bring us together, drawn to each other by some strange force. It never fails. We always find each other.”
I sat there for a moment, absorbing what he was telling me. I remembered the moment we met, the strange feeling I’d gotten. The odd familiarity, the pull, it all made sense now.
“The vision you saw of us in the encampment when we were training: that was Elena. The village you saw was called Moonhaven. It was our home for many years. However, the darklings launched an assault, killing countless civilians and warriors. It was a bloodbath, and I lost you in the destruction.”
“I saw a battlefield…” I started, and his eyes turned to me. “When Marcus… when Marcus first took me in the woods. I was surrounded by death… by fire. I held the sword in your room.” My hand drifted to my stomach. “When you found me, I realized that I was pregnant with Emilia.”
The pain flowed into me, like a wave crashing and overtaking me, as if I’d carried the child myself. I guess, in a way, I had.
His voice broke as he spoke her name... My name. "Lucia."
“It happened again when you rescued me from Marcus' compound, only this time, I was in a bed. The walls were stone, and the room was lit with candles.” As I spoke, the vision resurfaced in my mind. “Emilia made it into the world. I still remember the sound of her first cry.” Something fractured inside me. “But I hemorrhaged at some point during the delivery and lost too much blood…”
Damien’s head hung forward against his knuckle as he listened. His hand trembled, but I couldn’t stop myself from continuing. “I can still hear your cries in my head, as if it only happened yesterday.”
