BLOOD OATH BRIDE

THE MEMORY HE STOLE

The pain hit before the memory did.

It slammed into Elara’s skull like a bullet, sharp and blinding, forcing her to stumble mid-step as the corridor twisted around her, her breath catching violently in her throat.

“Stop—” she gasped, her hand flying to her head as her knees buckled.

Ronan caught her before she hit the ground.

“Easy,” he murmured, steadying her, his grip firm but controlled. “It’s starting.”

Her vision blurred, the dim corridor melting into streaks of shadow and light, the present unravelling as something deeper clawed its way to the surface.

“It hurts,” she whispered, her voice breaking despite herself.

“That means it’s real.”

Another surge of pain tore through her, sharper this time, forcing a strangled breath from her lungs as fragments began to surface—broken, disjointed, but unmistakably hers.

A room.

Warm light.

Her father.

Alive.

“Elara.”

His voice.

Clear.

Close.

Her heart slammed violently as the memory sharpened, pulling her under completely.

---

She was in her room.

Not this cold, shadowed place—but the Ivory Estate, bathed in soft golden light. The curtains stirred gently with the night breeze, the scent of polished wood and faint lavender grounding her in a time that no longer existed.

“Elara, wake up.”

Her father stood beside her bed, his face drawn tighter than she had ever seen it, his eyes sharp—not afraid, but urgent.

“Dad?” she murmured, pushing herself up. “What’s wrong?”

“We don’t have much time,” he said, glancing toward the door like he expected it to burst open at any second.

Her chest tightened. “You’re scaring me.”

“I need you to listen,” he said, stepping closer, his voice lowering. “Everything is about to change.”

A cold weight settled in her stomach.

“What do you mean?”

He reached into his coat, pulling out something small, wrapped in a thin piece of dark cloth.

“This,” he said, placing it in her hands.

She frowned, her fingers brushing the fabric. “What is it?”

“The only thing that can keep you alive.”

Her pulse spiked. “I don’t understand—”

“You don’t have to,” he cut in. “Not yet.”

He closed her fingers around it, his grip tightening slightly. “But you have to protect it.”

“From who?”

A pause.

Then—

“From everyone.”

The words landed like a quiet explosion.

Her breath caught. “Even you?”

His eyes softened for just a second.

“Especially from me.”

Confusion twisted through her. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“It will,” he said. “One day, it will.”

She looked down at the object in her hand, her fingers trembling slightly. “What is it?”

“A key,” he said simply.

Her heart skipped. “To what?”

His expression darkened. “To something that can destroy everything they’ve built.”

“They?” she echoed.

He didn’t answer.

Instead, he reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face, his touch lingering longer than usual.

“You’re stronger than you think,” he said quietly. “Remember that.”

Her chest tightened. “Dad, what’s happening?”

Another glance toward the door.

Tension snapping tight.

“They’re coming,” he said.

Her breath hitched. “Who?”

But he was already moving, urgency taking over. “I have to make sure you’re safe.”

“I’m not safe if you leave,” she said, grabbing his arm.

He stopped.

Looked at her.

Really looked at her.

And for the first time—

She saw it.

Not fear.

Not panic.

But certainty.

“I won’t be able to protect you anymore,” he said.

Her throat tightened painfully. “Then don’t go.”

“I have to.”

“Why?”

A beat.

Then—

“Because if I don’t,” he said quietly, “they’ll come for you next.”

The words sank deep, cold and heavy.

Her grip tightened on him. “Then we run. Together.”

His gaze softened again, something like regret flickering there. “There’s nowhere to run.”

Silence fell between them.

Thick.

Final.

“Listen to me,” he said, his voice sharpening again. “No matter what happens—no matter what you hear—you don’t trust anyone.”

Her chest tightened. “Not even—”

“Anyone,” he repeated.

A pause.

Then—

“Especially the men who come with promises.”

The warning settled deep in her bones.

Her fingers curled tighter around the cloth-wrapped object.

“I don’t understand,” she whispered.

“You will,” he said.

Then—

Before she could stop him—

He leaned forward, pressing something cold against the back of her neck.

A sharp sting.

Her eyes widened. “What—”

“Forgive me,” he murmured.

The room tilted.

Her vision blurred.

The last thing she saw—

Was him.

Standing there.

Watching her fade.

And the look on his face—

Wasn’t fear.

Wasn’t regret.

It was resolved.

---

Elara gasped, her body jerking violently as she snapped back into the present, the memory shattering around her like glass.

Her breath came in ragged bursts, her chest heaving as she clutched at Ronan’s arm to steady herself.

“He—” she choked, her voice breaking. “He gave it to me.”

Ronan’s grip tightened slightly. “I know.”

“A key,” she whispered, her mind racing. “He said it was a key.”

“To something powerful,” Ronan finished.

Her heart slammed. “He erased it.”

“Yes.”

Her stomach twisted violently. “Why would he—why would he make me forget?”

“To protect you,” Ronan said. “And to make sure no one could take it from you.”

Her breathing remained uneven, her thoughts spiralling.

“He said not to trust anyone,” she murmured. “Not even you.”

Ronan’s lips curved faintly. “That was smart of him.”

Her eyes snapped to his. “Then why should I trust you now?”

A beat.

Then—

“Because I’m the only one telling you the truth,” he said.

Silence stretched between them.

Heavy.

Uncertain.

Her pulse still hadn’t slowed.

The memory felt too real.

Too sharp.

Her father’s voice echoed in her mind.

Especially the men who come with promises.

Her chest tightened.

“Where is it?” Ronan asked.

She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“You had it.”

“I know that,” she snapped, frustration breaking through the haze. “But I don’t remember what happened after.”

Ronan studied her closely, his gaze calculating now. “Then we find out.”

“How?”

A pause.

Then—

“We trigger the rest of your memory.”

Her stomach dropped. “You mean more of that?”

“Yes.”

Her head still throbbed, the aftershock of the memory pulsing behind her eyes. “That almost knocked me out.”

“And the next one might give us what we need.”

Before she could respond—

A sharp sound echoed through the corridor behind them.

Metal.

Footsteps.

Fast.

Ronan’s expression shifted instantly, his posture tightening.

“They’re coming,” he said.

Her heart slammed. “Alessio?”

“Most likely.”

Panic flickered through her chest—but something else followed it.

Something sharper.

More complicated.

She pushed it down.

Now wasn’t the time.

“Then we move,” she said.

Ronan nodded once, already turning, leading her deeper into the passage.

They moved quickly now, the narrow corridor stretching ahead, dim lights flickering as the tower continued to tremble from the ongoing conflict above.

“Elara,” Ronan said suddenly.

She glanced at him. “What?”

“When the next memory hits,” he said, “don’t fight it.”

Her jaw tightened. “That’s easy for you to say.”

“It’s necessary.”

“Or dangerous.”

A faint smile. “Both.”

Footsteps echoed again behind them.

Closer.

Faster.

She didn’t need to turn to know.

Alessio wasn’t done.

Not with her.

Not with this.

They reached another door—smaller this time, less reinforced.

Ronan opened it quickly, pulling her inside.

The room beyond was darker, colder, filled with low humming machinery and faint blinking lights.

“What is this place?” she asked.

“A backup control room,” he said. “No one should know about it.”

“Should?”

A pause.

Then—

“They do now.”

The door slammed shut behind them.

Locked.

For a moment, silence returned.

But it didn’t last.

Because almost immediately—

A heavy impact hit the door from the outside.

Once.

Twice.

Then—

“Elara.”

Her breath caught.

Alessio.

Again.

Closer than ever.

Her pulse roared.

Ronan exhaled slowly. “Persistent.”

Another hit.

The door sho

ok violently.

“He’s going to break through,” she said.

“Yes.”

“Then what?”

Ronan turned to her, his expression sharpening.

“Then you remember,” he said.

Her stomach twisted.

Another impact cracked through the door.

Time was gone.

“Do it,” he said.

Elara closed her eyes.

Her breath unsteady.

Her mind is racing.

Then—

She let go.

The pain came instantly.

Sharper than before.

Deeper.

Dragging her under—

Into the next piece of truth.

And behind the door—

Alessio was getting closer.