Tied by Fate Bound by Time

The city skyline shimmered in the distance as Luna stood on the rooftop of the apartment building, the wind tugging at her hair like an impatient friend. The sky, streaked in crimson and gold, looked like it was trying to be beautiful—but none of it brought her peace.

Her fingers trembled.

She'd told herself a dozen times it meant nothing—just another weird dream, another pulse of heat in her veins, another unwanted whisper of his name, clawing into her mind without asking.

"Asher Knight," she muttered. "Get out of my head, you arrogant piece of fate."

"Talking to yourself again, Red?" came a voice behind her—smooth, smug, and maddeningly familiar.

She didn't need to turn around.

Of course it was him.

She spun on her heel, arms crossed. "You stalking me now, Knight?"

Asher leaned against the rooftop doorway like he'd been painted there: sharp coat, sharper jaw, dark slacks, and eyes that scanned her the way you study a puzzle—like if you stared long enough, it would finally make sense.

"This is my building," he said. "You're the trespasser. Again."

Luna scoffed. "I'm not scared of some spoiled CEO who thinks a skyline makes him deep."

"You broke into my conference room last week."

"I tripped. And I was delivering files."

"You broke the coffee machine."

"It was already dying."

"You insulted my board of directors."

"I insulted their suits. Don't be dramatic."

Asher exhaled slowly, clearly rethinking every choice that had led him to this moment. "Why are you really here, Luna?"

She turned back toward the city. "I like high places. They remind me life's small. Temporary."

He paused. "That's… surprisingly poetic."

"Don't get used to it."

He stepped closer. His voice dropped, quieter now. "You've been seeing things. Haven't you?"

Luna didn't answer right away. The hum of the city rose around them—sirens, car horns, music—but the silence between them was louder.

"What do you see?" she asked.

"Fire," Asher said. "A woman standing over me. Looks like you, but… different. Older. Dressed in red. She says my name like it's a curse."

Luna's heart thudded hard.

"I see it too," she whispered. "And then you—"

She stopped.

He turned toward her. "What?"

"You turn to dust," she said. "Like you're breaking apart. And I can't stop it."

Asher looked away, jaw tight. For a second, something slipped in his expression—something raw.

"I don't think they're dreams anymore," she said.

"No," he agreed. "They're not. And they're getting worse."

Suddenly, the rooftop lights flickered. A gust of freezing wind whipped past them, sharp and wrong.

Then the world shifted.

The rooftop vanished. The city dropped away.

For one breathless second, she stood inside ancient stone ruins under a sky on fire. A voice echoed around her:

> "You bound him with blood, Luna. What did you expect in return?"

She gasped and dropped to her knees.

The vision snapped away.

Asher caught her before she hit the ground. "Hey! Luna—Luna, look at me!"

She blinked hard. Her lungs couldn't find air.

The city was back. The lights were stable. The wind, just wind again.

"I—I saw something," she whispered.

"I know. I saw you go pale."

"No," she shook her head. "I mean I saw something. Ruins. Fire. A voice. She said I bound you with blood."

He froze, crouched in front of her. "What the hell does that mean?"

"I don't know," she said, breath hitching. "But… what if I did? What if I cursed you? In a past life?"

Asher stared at her for a long, heavy second.

Then, deadpan: "Then you owe me one hell of an apology."

Luna let out a short, broken laugh. "I don't even know where to start."

"Start," he said, "with why I saw you in my dreams before I ever met you."

Her eyes widened. "Wait. What?"

"I've been having these visions for months. I thought I was losing it. Then you walked into my office, and it was like déjà vu just decked me in the face."

Luna blinked, stunned.

He stood and offered his hand.

She looked at it like it might bite her.

"Come on," he said. "Before the wind knocks you off the roof."

"Tempting," she muttered, but took it anyway.

His hand was warm. Steady.

"Truce?" he asked.

"For now," she said. "But don't expect hugs and rainbows."

"Good," he said. "I was afraid you'd start writing love poetry."

She rolled her eyes, brushing dust off her jeans.

"Tomorrow. Noon. My office," he said. "You're telling me everything."

"Bossy," she grumbled.

"You like it."

"I hate it."

"You're lying."

"I'm not."

"You are."

"Shut up, Knight."

---

Downstairs, across the street…

A woman in a black coat and crimson scarf watched from the shadows.

In her hands was an old book. Its pages frayed. Its cover marked with runes that flickered like embers.

"She's remembering faster than expected," the woman murmured. "And he still resists."

She flipped the book open. Flames curled softly along the text, glowing red.

> The cursed must reunite.

Or fall once more.

---

End of Chapter