After a romantic evening, Nick and I strolled through the park, the crisp night air weaving between us as we held hands, carrying the scent of damp earth and autumn leaves. Golden and crimson leaves drifted lazily around us, caught in a breeze—soft, fleeting reminders of a season quietly shifting.

The moon cast a silver glow over the quiet trail, its light dancing across the pond's glassy surface.

In the distance, I spotted a pair of swans gliding together, their long necks wrapped in an elegant curve—nestled close, like they were whispering something sacred only they could understand.

After a quiet hour together, Nick walked me home. He strolled beside me up the driveway, and I couldn't look away—drawn to him so deeply it felt like our souls had been knotted together by fate.

He leaned down with a deliberate, assured grace, and our lips met—soft, yet fervent, as if they had yearned to discover one another for a lifetime. His hand drifted down my back, a gentle yet possessive caress, before resting at my waist, pulling me in as close as possible. With each passing moment, his kisses grew more intense and insistent, like a fire building in strength and desire.

When he pulled away, his smile was rich, dreamy, and his eyes had that droopy look of someone who'd found their favorite place in the world. He stared into mine, and I knew—he didn't want to say goodbye either.

Then, without warning, he hugged me tight.

"Goodbye, sweetheart. See you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow," I whispered, the words heavy with longing.

I watched him turn and walk away, heart tugging after him like a ribbon caught in the wind.

Part of me wanted to pull him upstairs right then—just to curl up together, to hold on to the feeling before it disappeared. Like that one night, weeks ago, after my fight with Mom... when his arms felt like safety and I knew, deep down, I was home.

I unlocked the front door and waved him goodbye, catching one last glimpse of his smile in the moonlight as he fades into the darkness like a king on the nigh and my heart skipped a beat.

I slipped inside and rushed upstairs before anyone could notice I'd been out... with a gorgeous dark prince who kissed like the stars were watching.

I shut my eyes tight, but Nick's face was seared into my consciousness like a brand of starlight. His touch lingered, electric and searingly soft, unforgettable in its intensity. Sleep dragged me under, a slow, inexorable fall into velvet darkness.

Then he appeared. Nick. Drenched in moonlight, his emerald eyes locked onto mine with a love so profound it felt like destiny carved in stone. He reached out, hand finding mine, pulling me against his chest with the force of gravity given a heartbeat. I dissolved into him. But before words could escape my lips— I was violently torn from his embrace. 

As the grip that tore me from Nick vanished, I spun around, heart pounding like a caged beast. And there stood Dawn. His eyes—blazing crimson, glowing like freshly spilled blood—were locked on Nick with a hatred so sharp it felt like a blade at my throat.

I turned back to Nick. His eyes burned red too. Fangs glinted at the corners of his smirk, his expression a storm of fury and primal energy. Yet somehow—I knew he wasn't the true threat.

Then the world twisted. I was high above them, bound to a wooden pole. Ropes bit into my wrists. Below—logs stacked like a funeral pyre. A ritual. A warning. I couldn't scream. I couldn't move. And all I could do... was watch.

Dawn lunged forward, silver-white hair flying behind him, claws slicing through air with lethal precision. His alabaster skin glowed under moonlight—like marble struck by lightning.

Nick moved like a shadow, dodging with breathtaking speed, bending backward mid-skid, breathless and fierce. Their battle tore through the night— And I was a captive witness, bound by ropes, paralyzed by dread.

Tears blurred my vision. I tried to scream— Nothing came. Then— Flames exploded below me. Nick vanished. Dawn disappeared. And everything became fire.

It burned. Flames licked at my feet, crawling up my legs like venom. My chest clenched—too fast, too loud. I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.

My heart thundered. Not in fear... But sorrow. Sudden. Devastating. Like I'd lived this pain before.

A crowd surged forward— Their faces twisted in rage. Madness. Terror. Torches blazed. Pitchforks caught the firelight.

"Witch!" "Witch-born!" "Burn her to ash!" "She consorted with darkness—let fire cleanse her blood!" "And may she pass into heaven purified, cleansed by holy flame!" "The blood of the Father God is the true savior of life—may she be found worthy of His embrace!"

Their voices weren't just noise. They crawled across my skin. Burrowed into my bones. And the satin on my arms felt like betrayal. 

Maria. A name not mine... but familiar. Etched in sorrow. Bound in fire.

"Maria! NO—let her go! She's not a bad witch. I'm the one you want. I'm the monster. But let her go... please. Don't kill my daughter..."

The voice cracked with grief. It wasn't rage—it was sacrifice. And somewhere in the flames... I knew him. Yet I could not find these men. I looked left then right

That cry—panicked, raw, male—ripped through the flames. I turned toward it, desperate to find him. But the fire blurred everything. Faces melted into smoke. Vision flickered.

Hands gripped my shoulders. A voice—urgent, distant—called me back. I stirred, then jolted upright, gasping. Sweat poured down my face as I tore off my blanket, my body burning from the inside out.

Out of the corner of my eye—movement. A shadow flickered across the room.

I turned on the lamp beside my bed and I looked over to see nothing there.  "What the hell..." I whispered. Must have been my imagination. 

Then the scent hit me. Old spice—faint but lingering. Mixed with pinewood. Earthy. Male. My window was open.

I blinked at it, too rattled to close it. How long had it been open? Who had been here?

But I couldn't focus. My mind was spinning, locked on the dream. The scorches. The voice. Maria. That name wouldn't let go. Nick and Dawn fighting, there eye glowing like the bloody crimson color. 

I crossed my arms over my chest, trembling. My hands clutched at my shoulders—still warm, still aching.

Then I saw it. The ends of my pajama pants—singed. The bedsheets—blackened at the edges. Burnt.

Oreo leapt onto the bed from the shadows, his eyes wide and worried. He rubbed against me, his purring engine kicking into action like magic. Sure, he acts like a crackhead most of the time—but when I break, he builds me back. He curled into my lap like he always does when there's no one else. My lifeline in fur.

Tears slipped down my cheeks, soaking into my skin. My heartbeat raced like it was trying to outrun something. There were no words. Only proof. The dream hadn't stayed a dream.

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Hey, lovely readers 💛

I didn’t expect a kiss to spiral into flame—but here we are. I wrote this chapter with my heart pressed to the glass: longing on one side, legacy burning on the other. Maria’s name echoed through me like a memory stitched in ash. If this one leaves you rattled, aching, or questioning dreams... it’s doing what it was meant to. I’m still staring at my sheets like they hold the answers.

— Luna-chan 🥀

Next time...

The dream didn’t fade. It evolved.

Bound to a pole. Flames licking at her feet. A name—Maria—hurled like a curse. And when Anna woke? The scorch marks were real.

In Chapter 15, the fire starts listening. Shadows slip through her room. Objects move when her emotions flare. And her mother’s cruelty ignites something ancient.

Then comes the nightclub. The girl with dagger earrings. The velvet door. And the moment Anna disappears.

The blood remembers. And now, so does the fire.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰