The Last Oracle’s Bride

I never believed in fate. To me, the future was something you built with your own hands, not something written in advance. But that was before the night my entire world shifted. That night, I was exactly where I always felt safe: the library. It was nearly empty, as usual. Silence wrapped around me, broken only by the occasional rustle of pages. I loved it here. The scent of paper and ink, the endless rows of books… it was the one place where I could disappear from the noise of my everyday life. I sat curled at a corner desk, pen in hand, scribbling notes that probably only made sense to me. Outside, the wind rattled the old windows. Inside, everything was calm. Until I felt it. That odd sensation, like someone’s eyes were fixed on me. My pen slowed. I told myself it was nothing, just imagination. But the weight of that gaze didn’t vanish. It pressed against my skin, crawled down my spine. I lifted my head. Between two tall shelves stood a man. At first, he blended with the shadows, but then the faint light caught his face. He wasn’t dressed like a student. His suit was dark and elegant, perfectly cut, as if he had stepped out of a world far more polished than mine. His hair was black, slightly tousled, yet deliberate. But none of that mattered compared to his eyes. Silver. Not gray. Not pale blue. Silver, glowing faintly, like liquid light had filled them. My breath caught. He wasn’t looking at books. He wasn’t pretending to browse. He was staring directly at me. The silence stretched. My throat tightened. Then he spoke. His voice was low, rich, and carried too easily through the quiet space. “Finally.” I froze. “I found you,” he said. The pen slipped from my hand, clattering on the desk. “What?” I whispered, unsure if I’d heard correctly. He took a step forward. My heart jumped. His presence was overwhelming, like he absorbed the entire room into himself. “Elena.” He said my name as though it belonged to him, as though it was carved into his bones. My pulse spiked. How did he know my name? “I… I don’t know you,” I said quickly, forcing myself to stand. My chair scraped loudly across the floor. A faint smile touched his lips, but it wasn’t warm. It was sharp, unsettling. “You will.” Panic flared in me. I grabbed my bag and shoved it over my shoulder. “Stay away from me.” His eyes didn’t waver. “I can’t.” Something in his tone made my stomach twist. It wasn’t desperation. It was certainty. I turned and strode down the aisle, heading straight for the exit. My steps echoed louder than I wanted, almost as if the library itself betrayed me. Behind me, I heard him follow. Slow. Unhurried. Each step deliberate, as though he already knew I couldn’t outrun him. I quickened my pace. “Elena,” his voice followed me, steady, controlled. “You don’t understand. I’m not here to hurt you.” I spun on my heel, my voice shaking with anger and fear. “Then stop following me!” For the first time, he halted. He looked at me with those silver eyes that seemed to glow brighter in the dim light. The intensity in them pinned me in place. “I’ve searched for you all my life,” he said. “And now that I’ve found you, I won’t let you go.” My throat tightened. I didn’t want to believe his words, but there was a conviction in his tone that made them feel like a sentence rather than a declaration. “You’re insane,” I whispered, more to myself than to him. Then I bolted for the doors, pushing them open with both hands. The night air hit me like a slap, cool and sharp against my skin. I rushed down the library steps into the courtyard, my heart pounding. Don’t look back. Just don’t. But I did. He was there. Still standing at the entrance, half in shadow, eyes glowing faintly as they locked on me. I turned and ran harder, my legs burning. My dorm was only a few minutes away. If I could just make it there, lock myself inside, everything would be fine. The echo of his voice followed me into the night. “Elena.” I froze mid-step. I didn’t want to, but I did. His voice gripped me, commanding yet calm. I turned my head slowly. He was closer now. Too close. His silver eyes cut through the darkness like they were the only light in the world. “You can’t escape me,” he said. And in that moment, even though I didn’t want to admit it, a part of me believed him. I ran. My shoes slapped against the pavement, my breath ragged as the night swallowed me whole. The campus was quiet, the street lamps flickering weakly. I told myself I was overreacting. Some creep had followed me, that was all. I just needed to get inside, lock the door, and call someone. But the sound of footsteps behind me said otherwise. No matter how fast I went, they echoed. Calm. Unhurried. Always close enough to remind me I wasn’t alone. My chest burned, but I forced myself to go faster. If I could just reach the corner of the main road, there would be people, cars, lights. Safety. I darted across the crosswalk, the red light glaring above me, and that was when I heard the roar. A truck barreling down the street, headlights blinding, horn blaring. Time froze. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. All I could see was the wall of metal rushing toward me. Then, arms wrapped around me. Strong, unyielding, pulling me back against a hard chest. My body was yanked off the street with a force that stole my breath. The truck flew past, so close I felt the rush of air, the heat of its engine. My heart slammed painfully against my ribs. I gasped, twisting in his grip. It was him. The man with silver eyes. His face was inches from mine, sharp features framed by the glow of the streetlight. His breath touched my skin, steady while mine was frantic. “You could have died,” he said softly. I shoved against him, panic and adrenaline surging. “Let me go!” He didn’t. His hold was firm, but not painful. It was as if he wanted to prove that I was safe, even as fear tore through me. “Who the hell are you?” My voice cracked. His eyes locked onto mine, glowing faintly, reflecting the trembling city lights. “Someone who has seen your death.” The words chilled me more than the near accident had. “What?” “I knew this would happen,” he continued, voice calm, certain. “The truck, the way you froze, the exact second it would arrive. I’ve seen it again and again. But now that I’ve stopped it, the path has shifted.” I stared at him, disbelief warring with dread. “You’re insane. Completely insane.” He let out a breath, almost a sigh, but his gaze never wavered. “You can think what you want. But the truth remains. You are bound to me.” I tore myself free, stumbling back. My legs trembled, but I forced myself to stand tall. “Bound to you? You’re delusional. Stay away from me or I swear.” “You don’t understand yet,” he interrupted. His tone wasn’t harsh, but commanding, threaded with something old, something that made my skin prickle. “I’m not your enemy. I am the only reason you are still alive.” I shook my head, clutching my bag tighter against my chest like it could protect me. “If this is some sick way of picking up girls, you need help.” The faintest smirk tugged at his lips, but it wasn’t mocking. It was sad, almost. “If only it were that simple.” He stepped forward. I stepped back. Every instinct screamed at me to run, yet my feet stayed rooted. His presence was magnetic, terrifying, and impossibly captivating. “You’re mine,” he said quietly, as if it were not a declaration, but a truth written in stone. “You always were.” The night fell silent. No footsteps, no trucks, no voices. Just the weight of his words pressing down on me, reshaping everything I thought I knew. And deep inside, though I hated myself for it, something in me trembled not with fear… but with recognition.