Celeste's POV
"Theo," I breathed. "You're—you were"
"I need to go." Theo grabbed his coat, his hands shaking so badly he could barely hold it. "I need to think. I need to"
He ran out of my apartment like the walls were closing in.
Damien watched him go, then turned to me. "If Theo really is Elara's soulmate reincarnated, that changes everything. The prophecy, the curse, all of it."
"I know."
"We need to research this. Find out what happened three hundred years ago, how they died, why the curse wasn't broken." He was already pulling out his phone. "I'll contact the Council archives, see what records they have"
"The Council archives that want me dead?"
He paused. "Right. I'll find another way." He headed for the door, then stopped. "Celeste? For what it's worth... I'm sorry. About my family. About your mother. About all of this."
Then he was gone too.
Leaving me alone with Adrian.
The hunter stood by the window, silent as a shadow. He hadn't said a word since we'd discovered Theo's connection to my ancestor. Hadn't reacted at all.
"You should go too," I said quietly. "It's late. The trials start in less than two days. You need rest."
"I'm not leaving."
"Adrian—"
"I said I'm not leaving." He finally turned to face me. "We need to talk."
My heart did something complicated in my chest. "About what?"
"About why I'm really here."
He crossed the room in three steps, close enough that I had to tilt my head back to look at him. Close enough that I could see the scars on his hands, the ones he got from killing supernatural beings for his family.
Close enough that I could feel the heat coming off his body.
"Three years ago," he said, his voice low and rough, "my father sent me to kill you."
"I know."
"No. You don't." His gray eyes locked onto mine. "He sent me because you were getting too powerful. Too dangerous. You'd saved that hospital from the demon attack, and suddenly everyone in the supernatural world was talking about Celeste Thorne. The witch who could command demons. Who could heal dozens of people at once. Who was too strong to be allowed to live."
My breath caught. "So you came to execute me."
"I came to watch you first. Standard procedure—observe the target, learn their patterns, find the perfect moment to strike." His jaw tightened. "I watched you for two weeks. Saw you run your shop, help young witches, heal people who couldn't afford real doctors. And I kept thinking... this doesn't match what I was taught. Witches are supposed to be evil. Selfish. Dangerous."
"Some are."
"You weren't." He reached up, his hand hovering near my face but not quite touching. "And then I saw you save that child."
The memory hit me hard. Three years ago. A little girl, maybe five years old, hit by a car right in front of my shop. Everyone screaming. Blood everywhere.
I'd used almost all my magic to save her. Nearly killed myself doing it.
"You didn't hesitate," Adrian continued. "You just ran into the street, scooped her up, and poured your entire soul into keeping her alive. You were crying and covered in blood and so focused on saving her that you didn't even notice me watching."
"I remember." My voice came out as a whisper. "Her name was Sophie. She's eight now. Comes to my shop every week with her mother."
"I know. I've seen her." His hand finally touched my cheek, so gentle it made my heart ache. "That was the moment I knew I couldn't kill you. That was the moment everything I'd been taught shattered into pieces. Because you weren't a monster. You were the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen."
Tears burned my eyes. "Adrian—"
"I went back to my father and lied. Told him you were protected by Council wards I couldn't break. Told him I needed more time. And every week, he'd ask if you were dead yet. And every week, I'd lie again." His thumb brushed away a tear I didn't know had fallen. "For three years, I've been lying. Killing other hunters he sent after you. Destroying evidence. Covering my tracks. All to keep you alive."
"Why?" The question broke on a sob. "Why would you do that for me?"
"Because I fell in love with you that day." His voice was raw. Honest. "Watching you save that child, watching you sacrifice yourself for a stranger—I fell so hard I forgot how to breathe. And every day since then, I've loved you more. Watched you from the shadows. Learned everything about you. How you take your coffee. How you hum when you're mixing potions. How you smile at the young witches who come to you scared and alone."
"That's not love," I whispered. "That's obsession."
"I know." He didn't deny it. Didn't apologize. "I'm a hunter, Celeste. I was raised to kill, not to feel. I don't know how to love someone the normal way. All I know is that you're the reason I betrayed everything I was taught to believe. You're the reason I'm still breathing. And you're the reason I'll walk into those trials knowing I'll probably die."
"You don't have to—"
"Yes, I do." His other hand came up, framing my face. "Because even if Theo is Elara's soulmate. Even if the prophecy says he's meant to break your curse. Even if choosing him means I die from Vivienne's binding—I still need to compete for your heart. I need you to know that someone loves you enough to die for you. Even if that someone is a monster who doesn't deserve you."
"You're not a monster."
"I've killed seventy-three people, Celeste. Supernatural beings, yes. But people. Living, breathing, feeling people who begged for mercy that I didn't give." His voice cracked. "I am absolutely a monster. But I'm a monster who loves you. And I'm asking—begging—for permission to fight for you anyway."
I should have said no. Should have protected him. Should have pushed him away.
But standing there, looking into his eyes, feeling his hands gentle on my face despite all the violence they'd done—
"Yes," I whispered.
He closed his eyes like I'd just given him something precious.
"Thank you."
Then his phone rang.
He pulled it out, looked at the screen, and went absolutely still.
"What?" I asked. "Who is it?"
"My father." His voice was flat. Dead. "He knows I'm here. He knows everything."
Before I could respond, he answered.
"Hello, Father."
Even from where I stood, I could hear the Huntmaster's voice. Cold. Furious.
"Adrian. I'm giving you one chance. One. Kill the Thorne witch in the next sixty seconds, or I will assume you've been compromised beyond redemption."
Adrian's eyes met mine.
"I'm already compromised," he said calmly. "I was compromised three years ago. And I'm not killing her. Not now. Not ever."
Silence on the other end. Then:
"Then you've chosen your death. I'm activating Protocol Seven. You have twelve hours before the hunters arrive. Use them wisely, son. They're the last twelve hours of your life."
The call ended.
I grabbed Adrian's arm. "What's Protocol Seven?"
"Kill order. Highest priority. Every hunter in North America just got authorization to execute me on sight." He tucked his phone away like we'd just discussed the weather. "They'll be here by dawn."
"We need to run. We need to hide. We need to—"
"No." He pulled me close, his arms wrapping around me like he could shield me from the world. "We're not running. We're finishing this. The trials, the curse, all of it."
"They'll kill you!"
"They'll try." He smiled, and it was the most dangerous thing I'd ever seen. "But I'm the best hunter my family ever trained. Let them come."
His confidence should have been reassuring.
Instead, it terrified me.
Because I knew the hunters. Knew what they were capable of.
And I knew that even Adrian Blackwell couldn't survive what was coming.
My phone buzzed.
A message from an unknown number with a video attachment.
I opened it with shaking hands.
The video showed a warehouse. Dark. Empty except for one thing.
A noose hanging from the ceiling.
And written on the floor in silver paint:
FOR THE TRAITOR HUNTER
A voice spoke from off-camera. The Huntmaster.
"Adrian. If you're watching this, know that I raised you better than this. I taught you honor. Duty. Strength. And you threw it all away for a witch who's already dying." A pause. "So here's my offer. Hang yourself by dawn. Die with what little honor you have left. Or I'll hunt down every person you've ever protected. Every supernatural being you saved instead of killed. Starting with Celeste Thorne. And I'll make them suffer before they die."
The video ended.
I looked up at Adrian.
His face was completely calm. But his hands were shaking.
"He's bluffing," I said desperately. "He has to be—"
"He's not." Adrian's voice was hollow. "My father doesn't bluff. If I don't hang myself by dawn, he'll make you suffer. He'll torture you slowly, publicly, and make sure I watch every second of it."
"Then we fight—"
"Against the entire Blackwell family? Against every hunter in the country?" He pulled away from me, and the loss of his warmth felt like dying. "Celeste, I can't protect you from this. I can barely protect myself."
"So what? You're just going to give up? Kill yourself because your father ordered it?"
He didn't answer.
And that's when I saw it in his eyes.
He was actually considering it.
"No." I grabbed his face, forcing him to look at me. "Absolutely not. You are not dying for me. Not like this."
"If it saves you—"
"It won't! Don't you see? If you die, Vivienne's binding kills me too! Your death doesn't save me. It damns us both!"
He froze. "The binding. I forgot about—"
"Exactly. So you dying accomplishes nothing except giving your father what he wants." I was crying now, tears streaming down my face. "Please. Don't leave me. Not when I just—"
I couldn't finish.
Couldn't say the words that were burning in my throat.
But Adrian heard them anyway.
"You feel it too," he whispered. "Don't you?"
I nodded.
He kissed me.
Soft at first. Gentle. Like I was something precious that might break.
Then harder. Desperate. Like he was drowning and I was air.
I kissed him back with everything I had. All the fear and longing and impossible love I'd been holding back for three years.
When we finally broke apart, we were both breathless.
"We have twelve hours," he said against my lips.
"Then let's make them count."
He was about to kiss me again when someone pounded on my door.
"Celeste!" Damien's voice. "Open up! Now!"
I pulled away from Adrian and opened the door.
Damien burst in, his face white. Theo was right behind him.
"What's wrong?" I demanded.
"The first trial," Damien said, shoving his phone at me. "The Council just sent the details. And Celeste—it's not what we thought."
I looked at the screen.
Trial One: The Sacrifice Each candidate will face a choice: save Celeste Thorne's life, or save the life of someone they love more. Only those who choose Celeste may continue. Those who choose otherwise will be eliminated—permanently.
Below that, three photos.
A woman who looked like Adrian, but older. His sister, maybe.
A young boy, maybe twelve. With Damien's eyes.
And Sophie. The little girl I'd saved three years ago. The reason Adrian fell in love with me.
"They're going to make you choose between me and the people you love most," I whispered.
"No." Theo's voice was shaking. "They're going to make us watch each other choose. And whoever saves you instead of their loved one has to live with that guilt forever."
The trial wasn't just about sacrifice.
It was about destroying us from the inside out.
And it started in forty-six hours.