Secrets and Broken Hearts

Chapter 8: Untouchable

The deafening roar of twenty thousand fans faded into a dull, distant hum the moment I stepped past the heavy velvet curtain and into the blinding glare of the stadium spotlights. My thick, long ash-blonde hair fell wildly and untamed around my shoulders, framing my face as I raised the microphone stand. I opened my mouth, drawing in a sharp breath to deliver the opening notes of Stronger.

​Then, my eyes swept across the front row.

​And time completely shattered.

​Sitting there, right in the center of the VIP section amid the blinding lights and screaming mortals, was a face I hadn't seen in five agonizing years. Crimson eyes—sharp, intense, and filled with a dark, suffocating intensity—locked onto mine.

​Nicholas.

​My breath caught violently in my throat. In a fraction of a second, the heavy, armored wall I had spent five years building around my heart crumbled into dust. For one terrifying, agonizing heartbeat, I wasn't Ana Blackstone, the untouchable global pop idol and lethal shadow-hunter. I was just Anna Black, that terrified, naive girl standing in a burning cottage, weeping over the man who had cast her out and broken her heart.

​Panic clawed at my chest, hot and suffocating. I felt my self-control slipping through my fingers like sand. Deep beneath the sleek, second-skin black leather of my dress, a sharp, burning heat spread across my skin—my magical tattoo, marking the deep, ancient, and mysterious pull that had always existed between us, began to glow fiercely, reacting to his presence with a violent, electric thrum. The arena lights flickered dangerously overhead as my magic threatened to break free. I had no idea why this bizarre, supernatural tether bound us so tightly, why my skin burned whenever he was near, but right now it felt like a curse.

​No.

​The single thought sliced through the terror like a blade.

​I blinked hard, forcing the panic down into the darkest corners of my soul. I dragged the wild magic back under my control, making the hidden tattoo fade beneath my skin. The stadium lights stabilized instantly.

​I wasn't that helpless girl anymore. I was Ana Blackstone. And I didn't fear anything—not demons, not the underworld, and certainly not the ghost from my past sitting right in front of me.

​I straightened my posture, lifting my chin with absolute, unyielding authority. I locked my gaze directly onto Nicholas, refusing to blink, refusing to look away, and finished the song with a fierce, controlled perfection that made the crowd scream louder than ever.

​As the final chord of the song echoed through the speakers, I lowered my microphone. Instead of stepping back, I raised a gloved hand, giving a subtle, sharp signal to my bandmates in the wings to hold off on the next track.

​The music died down, leaving only the ambient roar of the stadium. I walked slowly to the edge of the stage, looking down at the sea of faces before stopping right above where Nicholas sat.

​"How is everyone feeling tonight?" I spoke into the mic, my voice smooth, rich, and carrying effortlessly across the massive venue.

​A deafening wave of cheers washed back at me.

​"You know," I continued, a slow, knowing smile touching my lips as my crimson-eyed reflection stared unblinkingly back at me from the front row, "we usually stick to the setlist. But tonight... tonight feels different. I have a surprise for you all. A song I’ve never performed live before. In fact, until tonight, I swore I never would."

​I paused, letting the silence build, my gaze fixed squarely on Nicholas.

​"It’s a very personal song," I whispered, the microphone picking up every nuance of my sharp, deliberate tone. "It’s about destruction. It’s about being thrown into the fire, left for dead, and learning how to rise from the ashes. It’s called... I Rise Up Even When You Broke Me."

​I flicked a sharp glance toward my musicians, giving them the cue. They already knew. It was a secret track we had rehearsed in private, hidden away from Stefan and the label, because I had never been ready to unleash it. Until right now.

​The keyboardist struck a slow, haunting, melancholic chord that vibrated through the floorboards. I stepped closer to the edge of the stage, looking straight down into Nicholas's face—and in the burning intensity of his crimson eyes, I could see it clearly: he knew exactly what this song was about, and every single word was cutting straight through him.

​I began to sing:

You played your games and held me just for fun,

Then left me freezing when the night was done.

You took my love and crushed it in your hands,

And scattered all my heart across the sands.

Through silent nights and shadows on the wall,

I built an empire where I watched you fall.

​You thought your games would keep me in the ground,

You never thought a queen would save the crown.

Look at me now, look at the fire in my eyes—

I rise up even when you broke me.

You had my heart, but now the walls are high,

You'll never touch me as I touch the sky.

The stadium was dead silent during the verses, hanging onto every single raw, aching word, before erupting into a deafening, thunderous wave of applause and ecstatic cheers as the final note echoed into the night. The sound shook the concrete floor, a wall of pure energy from twenty thousand adoring fans.

​I didn't break eye contact with Nicholas through the roar, letting the applause wash over me like armor. With one final, searing look straight into his stunned crimson eyes, I made sure he understood the message loud and clear: I didn't need him then, and I certainly didn't need him now.

​Then, with a slow, deliberate smirk, I turned my back on him, gave a sharp nod to my band, and seamlessly transitioned into the heavy, thumping bassline of the next chart-topping hit, diving right back into the blazing energy of the concert as if nothing in the world could ever touch me again.