UNTIL THE END OF ME

CHAPTER FOUR

Olivia woke to fire.

Not real fire—at least, not at first. The flames licked the edges of her vision like a waking dream, golden and slow, curling through the air in a way that didn’t burn but shimmered, like heat trapped in memory.

She sat bolt upright in bed, chest heaving.

But the room around her was unfamiliar.

The café was gone. Her dorm was gone.

She stood barefoot on cool white stone, beneath a blood-colored sky. The horizon pulsed with the glow of distant fire—an entire city burning. Spires of glass cracked and crumbled in the distance. Smoke clawed toward the heavens. Screams rose like a mourning song.

She turned slowly, heart thudding.

Her hands were stained gold. Not with fire, but with blood—thick, metallic, glowing faintly in the low light.

Something wet trailed down her cheek.

Tears.

And beside her, on the cold marble floor, a man lay dying.

He was beautiful in the way statues are beautiful—sharp-jawed, still, too perfect to be alive. But his face was familiar. Too familiar.

Liam.

Not this Liam. Not the one from the café. This one wore armor forged of silver and starlight, cracked down the middle like something sacred broken in battle. Blood spilled from his mouth as he looked at her, a faint smile ghosting across his lips.

“You came back,” he whispered.

“I never left,” Olivia said, except she hadn’t meant to say it. The words came from somewhere deeper than her thoughts—like a script written in her bones.

“You always come back,” he said, voice thinning like smoke. “But never in time.”

She reached for him, her hands trembling, but before her fingers touched his cheek, the ground beneath them shuddered. A tremor. A warning.

From behind her, a voice rose—cold and sharp, threaded with power and something older than hate.

“You chose power over peace. And now your city dies.”

She turned.

And there, at the edge of the ruined hall, stood the shadow. The same one from the café—but here, it was more solid. Cloaked in dark armor, a crown of twisted black metal atop its head. Eyes like dying suns burned behind its mask of smoke.

“You did this,” Olivia whispered.

“No,” the creature said, stepping forward. “You did.”

The pendant around her neck burned hotter. The same pendant Liam had given her—except now, in this place, it looked different. Older. The chain was carved from runes. The stone at its center pulsed with a heartbeat not her own.

Her body moved without her consent, one arm lifting. Fire curled up her wrist—real fire. She felt it like a memory, alive and hungry and waiting to be wielded.

The shadow laughed.

“Still afraid of it? Even now?”

“I’m not,” Olivia said—but her voice broke.

And then everything broke.

The sky split open with thunder. Light exploded behind the shadow, and the world cracked like glass beneath her feet. Liam’s body slipped away—fading like smoke—as the floor gave way and Olivia plummeted into darkness.

She awoke screaming.

Back in her dorm room. No fire. No blood. Just sweat soaking her sheets and her heart trying to punch its way out of her chest.

The pendant still glowed faintly against her skin.

And the smell of smoke lingered.

The scream still echoed faintly in her throat when she sat up, clutching the pendant like a lifeline.

Olivia forced herself to breathe.

In. Out.

The dream—no, the memory—still clung to her skin like ash. Her sheets were tangled around her legs, soaked with sweat. Her chest rose and fell in rapid, panicked waves.

She ran a shaky hand through her damp hair and swung her feet to the floor.

That’s when she saw it.

A mark—burned into the wood just beneath her window.

Not scratched.

Not drawn.

Burned.

She blinked, leaned forward. The shape was still faintly smoking, as if it had been seared into the floor only moments ago. A perfect circle, no more than six inches across, etched with unfamiliar symbols that pulsed softly with gold-red light.

The same light from the dream.

Her fingers hovered above it, trembling.

She didn’t touch it.

Couldn’t.

Instead, she stood and backed away slowly, heart pounding. Her gaze swept the rest of the room, looking for anything else out of place.

That’s when she noticed something on her desk.

A single white feather.

Long. Elegant. Almost glowing.

She hadn’t left it there.

She stepped closer, unable to look away. As she approached, she saw that underneath the feather, there was a piece of parchment—aged and yellowed, folded once down the center. Her name was scrawled across the front in handwriting she didn’t recognize.

But she recognized the scent.

Smoke and lavender.

The same scent from the ruined city in her dream.

She reached out and unfolded it with shaking hands.

Inside, there were only three words.

"He remembers too."

The paper fluttered from her grasp.

She spun around, half-expecting someone—something—to be standing behind her.

But she was alone.

Utterly, terrifyingly alone.

Except… she wasn’t. Not really.

Because something ancient was stirring inside her. The dream had felt too real. The fire. The death. The city made of glass. The voice in the shadows.

And now this?

The burn mark. The feather. The note.

The veil was lifting.

Piece by piece.

And whether she was ready or not, her past was coming for her.

Olivia snatched her phone off the nightstand, nearly dropping it in her haste. Her fingers fumbled as she unlocked it, heart racing too fast to think straight. She scrolled to Liam’s number and hit call.

It rang once.

Twice.

Come on.

Three times.

She nearly screamed when the line clicked.

“Olivia?”

His voice. Immediate. Sharp. Awake.

Her throat tightened with relief. “Liam—”

“Are you okay?” he cut in, already urgent. “I felt—”

“You felt something?” she echoed, pacing now. “Liam, there’s a burn mark in my floor. There’s a feather on my desk and—and a note with my name on it.”

Silence.

Then: “What did it say?”

Her fingers clenched the phone tighter. “He remembers too.”

Liam cursed under his breath.

“Tell me what’s going on,” she said. “Right now.”

“I’m coming to you. Don’t move. Lock the door. Don’t touch the mark.”

“I already—”

“Don’t,” he said sharply. “Promise me.”

“Okay,” she breathed. “Okay, I won’t.”

“I’m five minutes away,” Liam said. “I should’ve stayed closer.”

She didn’t ask how he knew where she lived. Not now. Not when everything around her was unraveling into something ancient and terrifying and real.

“Liam,” she whispered. “Is this… am I going crazy?”

“No,” he said softly. “You’re waking up.”

And then he hung up.

Olivia stared at the phone screen as the call ended.

Waking up.

What did that even mean?

She turned to look at the burn mark again. The symbols inside the circle were glowing brighter now—slow, pulsing light like a heartbeat. They looked familiar in a way that made her skin crawl. Like something she once traced into the sand. Or carved into stone.

Her reflection in the mirror caught her eye.

She turned to face it fully.

For a second—just one flashing, impossible second—her eyes weren’t brown.

They were gold.

She backed away from the mirror.

Her heart thundered. She blinked rapidly, trying to will the image away, to convince herself it was just the lighting, her imagination, the madness crawling in from the corners of her mind.

But it wasn’t.

The reflection lingered. And something shifted inside her.

A memory—not a dream this time, but clear, sharp as shattered glass—slammed into her.

A vast hall bathed in flame.

Stone columns scorched black, and a woman standing barefoot in the center of it all.

Her.

Her body wrapped in ash-stained cloth, a crown of smoldering gold on her head. Around her, people bowed—not in fear, but reverence. And her hands… her hands were wreathed in fire that didn’t burn. It moved like it obeyed her. Like it belonged to her.

Then came the screaming.

The ceiling of the hall cracked open, not from fire, but from shadow. A blackness poured in like smoke and swallowed everything. She turned, reaching out—

But something struck her chest.

And everything went dark.

—

Olivia staggered back, hand flying to her sternum.

She was in her room again. No crown. No fire. No throne of ash.

Just her, shaking, breathing like she’d run a marathon.

Her fingers brushed something beneath the collar of her shirt.

The pendant.

Still warm.

She spun around—because the temperature had shifted again. The air in the room had changed. Thicker. Tighter. Like something else had arrived with the memory.

That’s when she noticed the door to her closet was open.

Only a crack.

She hadn’t opened it.

Slowly, slowly, she crept toward it. Each footstep felt like it echoed. Her fingers reached for the handle—

A knock shattered the silence.

Not from the closet.

From the front door.

She froze.

Another knock. Urgent. Real.

“Olivia,” Liam’s voice came through, muffled but firm. “It’s me.”

She exhaled shakily, turned on her heel, and bolted to the front door. She yanked it open and nearly collapsed into him.

Liam caught her instantly. “I’m here,” he whispered, pulling her into his arms. “I’ve got you.”

She buried her face into his chest, and for a moment—just a moment—the nightmare melted.

But it wouldn’t stay gone for long.

Not when the pendant was glowing again.

Not when the burn mark in her room was no longer alone.

It had company now.

Another symbol.

Freshly carved into the floor.

Liam pulled back from the hug just enough to see her face. “You’re shaking.”

“I had a… I don’t know what it was,” Olivia whispered. “A vision. A memory. It felt real this time. And there’s something you need to see.”

She grabbed his hand, pulling him through the apartment, down the hallway, into her room. The air inside was colder than it should’ve been. Still.

She pointed to the floor.

The mark was fresh—burned into the wood, clean and sharp. Like someone had seared it with a brand. Another symbol, just beneath the first, but this one… different.

More intricate. More dangerous.

Liam knelt beside it, jaw tight.

“Liam,” she said softly, “what do they mean?”

He didn’t answer right away. His fingers traced the edge of the symbol like it might vanish if he blinked.

“This one wasn’t supposed to show up yet,” he said finally. “The first was a warning. This…” He exhaled. “This means the seal is breaking.”

She swallowed hard. “Seal?”

He looked up at her. “There’s more inside you than memories, Olivia. In your last life—your real life—you did something to lock it away. To keep the power from being used. Or corrupted. You sealed it.”

She took a step back. “Wait, so this… this thing I feel inside me, this heat, this pull—it’s not just from a past life? It’s still in me?”

“Yes,” Liam said, standing. “The pendant isn’t just a token—it’s a tether. Part of what keeps the seal stable. But every time you remember something… every time you feel who you used to be… it weakens.”

Olivia ran a hand through her hair. “So what happens when it breaks?”

His expression darkened.

“Then the fire comes back.”

She stared at him.

“And that’s bad?” she asked.

He hesitated. “Not if it’s you who controls it.”

“But if it’s not?”

“Then you’ll burn more than just memories.”

The room seemed to pulse with that word—burn.

Olivia’s breath quickened. “And that thing from the café? The shadow—”

“It’s trying to break you open before you’re ready,” Liam said. “To twist what’s inside. If it succeeds… there won’t be anything left of you. Just the fire.”

Her voice dropped. “Why me, Liam? Why is it always me?”

His eyes met hers. “Because you were the only one powerful enough to stop them last time. And because this time, they’re trying to make sure you don’t remember that in time.”

She looked down at the mark on the floor again.

It shimmered—just faintly—like it was alive.

Then she looked back up at Liam.

“I want to remember,” she whispered. “Everything.”

He stepped closer, his voice steady but low. “Are you sure? Once you start, there’s no going back.”

“I’m already halfway gone,” she said. “Might as well finish the fall.”

Liam reached for her hand. “Then we start tonight.”

The moon hung high above them, casting a silver glow through the broken panes of the greenhouse windows. Ivy curled along shattered glass, and in the quiet hum of midnight, the place felt untouched by time—forgotten by the world, but remembered by something older.

Liam led her inside with a gentle hand on her back. The pendant still glowed faintly beneath her shirt, pulsing like a second heartbeat.

“What is this place?” Olivia whispered.

He stepped past a row of wilted vines and knelt near the far wall, clearing away debris to reveal a circular stone etched with strange markings. “This was ours,” he said. “A long time ago. A sanctuary.”

“For what?”

“For remembering.”

Olivia’s throat tightened. “So… it’s starting?”

He looked at her then—eyes burning gold under the moonlight. “If you’re sure.”

She nodded, even though her hands trembled. “I need to know who I was.”

Liam pressed his palm to the stone. A soft tremor rolled through the floor as the markings lit up one by one. Light shimmered beneath them—rising, coiling, surrounding.

“Step into the circle,” he said gently. “It’ll feel… intense. But I’ll be here the whole time.”

She took a breath, then stepped in.

The moment she crossed the threshold, heat rushed up her spine. A wind—born from nothing—lifted the edges of her hair. The glow from the circle flared, then surged.

And then the world fell away.

FLASHBACK

She stood on a high balcony, wind whipping through silken robes. Below, a sprawling city glistened with towers made of mirrored glass and fire-lit stone. A sun with twin moons burned in the sky above.

But it was the people who caught her breath. Hundreds—no, thousands—below, gathered, cheering.

She wasn’t Olivia here.

She was someone taller, fiercer. Adorned in armor traced with firelight and gemstones. Her hands crackled with flame that obeyed her every thought. Her voice rang out, commanding storms and silence alike.

Beside her stood Liam. Not as he was now, but regal, cloaked in a deep crimson mantle. His eyes held the same gold fire, but his presence was… sharper. Worn from war.

They were rulers. Warriors. And more than that—partners in every sense.

In the memory, she turned to him, smiling. “It’s almost over.”

He brushed his fingers over hers. “One last battle.”

Then—darkness. The scene shattered like glass dropped from a great height. Screams echoed. The sky cracked open. From it descended a wave of black-winged shadows.

And there—amid the chaos—a figure cloaked in void. The same one from the café.

The pendant around her neck flared. Her memory-self raised her hands, flames roaring to life, and for a moment—just a moment—she held them back.

But then a betrayal. A flash of pain. A spear through Liam’s side.

She screamed.

And everything went white.

PRESENT

Olivia fell to her knees, gasping, the stone floor cold beneath her hands. Her pulse thundered in her skull. Tears streamed down her cheeks, unbidden and raw.

Liam caught her, arms steady around her as her body shook.

“I saw it,” she choked. “The city. You. Me. I had fire—I was fire.”

He didn’t speak. Just held her.

“I couldn’t save you,” she whispered. “You died.”

“You did everything you could,” he murmured. “You always did.”

Olivia’s fingers dug into his coat. “It felt so real.”

“Because it was.”

She pulled back slightly, searching his eyes. “Why did I seal it away? The power? The memories?”

“Because you couldn’t bear to lose me again,” he said softly. “You chose to forget everything in this life… hoping it would change the end.”

A silence stretched between them.

“But it didn’t,” she said.

“No. The curse followed us anyway.”

She wiped her tears with the back of her sleeve. “Then we break it. This time, we fight.”

A faint smile curved Liam’s lips. “You’re not afraid anymore.”

“I’m still terrified,” Olivia said. “But I’d rather face it than run again.”

He took her hand. “Then it begins tonight.”

The moon outside shifted behind a cloud. A wind rose again.

And in the shadow of the sanctuary, something ancient stirred.