Tied by Fate Bound by Time

The wind was howling again.

It slid through the cracks in Luna's dorm window, tugging at the edges of her thoughts, whispering in tongues she couldn't quite translate. Not anymore. Not since the scroll. Not since the dreams began bleeding into daylight.

She hadn't really slept.

How could she?

Not after what she'd seen.

That temple.

Those flames.

Him, kneeling in chains.

Her own voice, cursing his soul across lifetimes.

It hadn't been a dream. It couldn't have been.

Luna Hart had always believed in logic. Research papers. Peer-reviewed journals and neatly annotated footnotes. But logic was a house with a broken foundation now. Every time she leaned on it, it crumbled.

Not when Asher Thorne's eyes haunted her even in another life.

Not when her magic had burned him.

Literally.

She stared down at her hands—pale, shaking. The fingertips still tingled from where she'd traced the scroll's sigil, like her soul hadn't quite returned to her body.

A soft knock at the door jolted her.

One knock.

Then another.

She didn't move.

"Luna," a voice said quietly. "It's me."

Asher.

Of course.

Because the universe had perfect timing.

She considered pretending she wasn't home. But the truth was, this moment had been inevitable from the start. Ever since their fingers nearly touched. Since their dreams began to mirror. Since the curse began to awaken.

Outside, the fog curled up the dorm steps like something alive.

Luna unlocked the door and opened it a crack.

Asher stood there, hood down, hair damp from the mist. His jaw was tight, and his eyes—those impossibly silver-blue eyes—looked hollowed by sleeplessness.

"I didn't know where else to go," he said.

She didn't answer.

She just stepped aside.

He walked in.

---

She didn't offer tea.

Didn't ask questions.

The silence sat between them like a third presence.

Luna leaned back against her desk, arms folded. "You felt it too, didn't you?"

Asher nodded. "All of it."

"The temple. The chains."

"You cursed me," he said—not angry. Not accusing. Just… stating.

"I think I was forced to."

"But you still did it."

Her eyes dropped to the floor. The guilt stung sharper than she expected.

"I don't know who I was then," she whispered. "But I know who I am now. And I wouldn't hurt you."

He let out a dry, bitter breath. "Wouldn't you? You already did. You opened the scroll. You started this."

"I didn't know!" she snapped.

His voice rose with hers. "You felt something, didn't you? The moment you touched it. Like it was calling to you."

She hesitated. "You felt it too?"

He looked down at his palm—still faintly red. "Weeks ago. I found it in the archives. I wasn't even looking for it. But I touched it. Just for a second. Thought it was nothing. An artifact."

"So did I."

Their eyes met.

For the first time, there was no fire. No rivalry. Only shared fear.

Shared truth.

---

Time passed. Quietly. He sat at the edge of her bed, elbows on his knees. The ring—now on a chain around his neck—glinted under her desk lamp. The symbol carved into it shimmered faintly, like it breathed.

Luna sat on the floor, legs pulled to her chest.

"I saw your face," she said softly. "In that other life. You looked at me like I betrayed you."

"Maybe you did."

"Or maybe…" Her voice barely held. "Maybe you loved me."

Silence.

Asher's jaw flexed. His eyes darkened.

"I don't believe in fate," he said quietly.

"I didn't either," she replied. "Until I dreamed of dying in your arms."

He turned toward her sharply.

"There was another dream," Luna whispered. "I didn't tell you. I saw flames again. But this time, I was the one screaming. I think I died. And you were the last thing I saw."

His voice cracked. "I had that dream too. Last night."

The quiet between them felt like a wound.

Heavy with longing. Memory. Grief.

Or maybe it was the curse. Wrapping tighter around them.

"Why us?" Luna asked. "Why now?"

Asher stood, pacing. "The scroll unlocked something. A connection. A timeline that was never finished."

"Do you think it's a punishment?"

He didn't answer.

Instead, he turned to the window. The fog pressed against the glass, thicker than before. Like fingers trying to get in.

Luna joined him. Stood close. Too close.

Outside, a streetlight flickered.

The shadows shifted.

Asher pulled the pendant from beneath his hoodie and placed it in her hand. The ring was warm. Not metal-warm.

Alive warm.

"You gave me this," he said, "in the vision. Right before you cursed me."

Luna closed her fingers around it.

"Then maybe this is how it ends."

He looked at her. "How what ends?"

"The wandering."

She stepped closer. Her pulse thundered in her ears. She could feel him—heat and tension, memory and magic.

"I think we've done this before," she said. "Maybe more than once. And maybe... I broke something I wasn't supposed to."

Asher's voice was barely a whisper. "Then how do we fix it?"

Luna met his eyes. And for the first time, her voice didn't shake.

"Maybe we fall in love again."

He froze.

"What if we do?" he asked.

"Then," she whispered, "we break the curse."

---

Neither of them moved.

But something did.

A thread pulled tighter between them—ancient and fragile.

And somewhere, deep beneath the university, in the cold, locked vault of the archives, the scroll pulsed once in the dark.

Not in warning.

In recognition.

---

End of Chapter