THE DARK COVENANT

CHAPTER 2-LIBRERIA AURORA

The faded sign above the bookstore swayed gently in the evening breeze.

LIBRERIA AURORA.

Aimaara Daneesha stood frozen across the street, her fingers tightening around the old invitation card inside her handbag.

She hadn't been here in fifteen years.

Fifteen years since her father had smiled, squeezed her tiny hand, and whispered,

"Wait here, princess. I'll be right back."

He never came back.

The memory struck her chest like a knife.

She drew a slow breath.

"Please... let today give me the answers I've been searching for."

With hesitant steps, she crossed the road.

The wooden door creaked as she pushed it open.

Ting...

The soft ring of the brass bell echoed through the silent bookstore.

The familiar scent of aged paper and leather wrapped around her instantly.

Nothing had changed.

The towering shelves.

The warm amber lights.

The old wooden floor.

It felt as though time had stopped inside Libreria Aurora.

"Welcome."

A deep voice broke the silence.

Aimaara looked up.

A man emerged from between the shelves.

Tall.

Broad-shouldered.

Dressed entirely in black.

His movements were calm, almost effortless.

But it wasn't his appearance that caught her attention.

It was his eyes.

Storm-grey.

Cold.

Yet strangely familiar.

Her heart skipped a beat.

Those eyes...

For years, she had dreamed of a pair of grey eyes watching her through the rain.

She had never seen the man's face.

Only those eyes.

Watching.

Waiting.

The stranger stopped a few steps away.

"What are you looking for?"

His voice was low and steady.

Aimaara swallowed the lump in her throat.

"I'm looking for information."

"What kind of information?"

She reached into her bag and unfolded a piece of paper.

Drawn in the centre was the same strange symbol.

A black crescent moon enclosed inside a circle.

"I found this carved into a wall yesterday."

"I need to know what it means."

The stranger lowered his gaze.

For the briefest moment...

His expression changed.

Recognition.

Then it disappeared.

He looked back at her as though nothing had happened.

"Where did you see it?"

"At a construction site."

"The fourteenth floor."

His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.

"You shouldn't have come here."

Aimaara frowned.

"So you know this symbol."

Silence.

"You do know."

Still, no answer.

Frustration began to rise inside her.

"My father used to come here."

That sentence finally made him react.

His grey eyes locked onto hers.

"What was his name?"

"Hakim Zulkifli."

The colour drained from his face.

For the first time, the calm man standing before her looked shaken.

He closed his eyes briefly before exhaling.

"So..."

His voice was almost a whisper.

"You really are his daughter."

Aimaara's heartbeat quickened.

"You knew my father?"

"I did."

"Then tell me. What happened to him?"

The man remained silent.

Instead, he disappeared behind the counter.

When he returned, he placed a small wooden box between them.

Slowly, he opened it.

Inside lay an old iron key.

Attached to it was a rusted metal tag.

214.

Aimaara stared at it in confusion.

"What is this?"

"The last thing your father left behind."

She looked up sharply.

"My father left this?"

The man nodded.

"He told me..."

His gaze remained on the key.

"...to give it only to you."

Aimaara felt tears sting her eyes.

"So..."

Her voice trembled.

"He knew I would come here?"

"He hoped you never would."

Before she could ask another question—

Ting...

The brass bell rang again.

Both of them turned.

Three men in black suits entered the bookstore.

Their footsteps echoed slowly across the wooden floor.

The man in the centre smiled.

"Hakim Zulkifli's daughter."

His smile widened.

"We've finally found you."

Aimaara instinctively stepped backwards.

Her pulse raced.

She had never seen these men before.

Yet the way they looked at her...

It was as if she had belonged to them all along.

The stranger beside her moved without hesitation.

He stepped in front of her.

Shielding her.

"My name is Emmeer."

He didn't take his eyes off the three men.

"And if you want her..."

His voice turned cold.

"You'll have to go through me first."

The bookstore fell into a suffocating silence.

No one moved.

The three men stood near the entrance, blocking the only exit.

The man in the middle slowly removed his black leather gloves.

His smile remained calm.

Almost polite.

"We're not here to cause trouble."

His gaze shifted toward Aimaara.

"We're only here for Miss Aimaara Daneesha."

A cold shiver crawled down her spine.

"I... I don't even know you."

"No."

His smile didn't fade.

"You don't."

"But we've known about you for a very long time."

Her breathing became uneven.

"What do you want from me?"

The man smiled again.

"Something your father stole."

Before Aimaara could respond, Emmeer stepped forward.

"Leave."

One word.

Cold.

Sharp.

The stranger chuckled.

"I was wondering how long you'd stay hidden."

His eyes narrowed.

"It's been years, Dark Prince."

Aimaara frowned.

Dark Prince?

She turned to Emmeer.

His expression didn't change.

Not even slightly.

"You have ten seconds."

The stranger laughed softly.

"You always were impatient."

He took one step forward.

"So tell me..."

His gaze hardened.

"...is the promise really worth dying for?"

Emmeer's grey eyes darkened.

"I won't ask again."

The atmosphere shifted instantly.

The bookstore suddenly felt too small.

Too quiet.

Too dangerous.

Aimaara's heartbeat pounded against her ribs.

Something terrible was about to happen.

The stranger sighed.

"What a shame."

He snapped his fingers.

At once, the two men behind him reached inside their coats.

Weapons.

Everything happened in a heartbeat.

Emmeer grabbed Aimaara's wrist.

"Down!"

BANG!

A bullet shattered the bookshelf behind them.

Books crashed onto the floor.

Wood splintered through the air.

Aimaara screamed instinctively.

Emmeer pushed her behind the counter.

"Stay here!"

"What about you?"

He looked at her.

For the briefest moment, his eyes softened.

"I'm coming back."

Then he disappeared into the smoke.

More gunshots echoed through the bookstore.

Aimaara covered her ears.

Her entire body trembled.

She had never heard real gunfire before.

Every shot felt like it exploded inside her chest.

She crouched lower, trying to make herself invisible.

Then—

She heard footsteps.

Slow.

Careful.

Someone was approaching the counter.

Her breathing stopped.

A shadow appeared on the floor.

The stranger crouched just enough for their eyes to meet.

"There you are."

His smile returned.

"You've caused us a lot of trouble."

He reached toward her.

Aimaara instinctively crawled backward.

"No!"

His fingers were only inches away.

Suddenly, a hand gripped the stranger's collar from behind.

Emmeer.

Without a word, he yanked the man backward and slammed him against a bookshelf.

The impact echoed through the store.

Books rained onto the floor.

The stranger wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth.

Then...

He laughed.

"I almost missed this."

"The famous Dark Prince."

"You've gone soft."

Emmeer remained silent.

"You used to kill without hesitation."

Aimaara's eyes widened.

Kill?

She looked at Emmeer in disbelief.

Was that true?

Who exactly was the man protecting her?

The stranger noticed her expression.

His smile widened.

"Oh..."

"You didn't tell her?"

He laughed again.

"She doesn't know who you really are."

Emmeer's voice was ice.

"Enough."

"No?"

The stranger glanced at Aimaara.

"Then let me tell her."

He looked directly at her.

"The man standing in front of you..."

"...once made entire organisations disappear."

His smile faded.

"He wasn't protecting people."

"He was the nightmare they prayed they'd never meet."

Aimaara felt her world tilt.

She looked at Emmeer.

Searching his face.

Searching for denial.

He said nothing.

Silence.

That silence hurt more than any answer.

The stranger slowly straightened his coat.

"We'll leave for tonight."

He glanced at the iron key in Aimaara's trembling hand.

"Keep it safe."

"You'll bring it to us yourself."

"Very soon."

He smiled one last time.

Then all three men walked calmly toward the exit.

Before leaving, the stranger stopped at the doorway.

Without turning around, he said,

"The game has finally begun."

Ting...

The brass bell rang once more.

Then...

Silence.

Only Aimaara's uneven breathing filled the bookstore.

She slowly looked at Emmeer.

One question escaped her lips.

"...Who are you?"

Emmeer closed his eyes briefly.

When he opened them again...

There was nothing but regret.

"I'm the man your father trusted..."

His gaze held hers.

"...and the man you should fear the most."

---

Some strangers become protectors.

Some protectors hide the darkest past.

Aimaara had just met both in the same man.

— TO BE CONTINUED —