Chapter 22 Roman #3
Above us, the sky was a milky expanse, the world suspended in the hush of deep night—that strange, weightless hour where reality blurred between dreams and wakefulness.
Olivia opened the door carefully, stepping inside on silent feet.
I followed, every nerve on edge—partially from the chaos of the last few hours, partially from the anticipation of seeing Malik.
A soft clatter echoed from somewhere upstairs.
Olivia and I exchanged glances, then moved toward the staircase, our steps soundless against the polished floor.
At the top of the landing, a thin beam of light cut across the deep red rug that stretched down the corridor. It spilled from a partially open door.
“That’s Malik’s room,” Olivia whispered.
We advanced with stealth, our breath tight in our chests.
I could hear my heartbeat hammering like a war drum.
I was about to meet the man I’d dreamed of countless times.
The man who had saved me.
The man who had somehow always been there, even when I didn’t know how or why.
Then—
A voice drifted through the sliver of light.
A man’s voice.
Soft, low, crooning a lullaby.
My spine stiffened.
Olivia’s gaze snapped to mine, her eyebrows knitting together in confusion.
“How odd to hear a man of darkness singing a lullaby,” she whispered. Then, turning toward the door, she called softly, “Malik?”
A beat of silence.
Then—
“Olivia?” His voice was deep, rich, a timbre that sent an unsettling chill through me. “Come in. I’m soothing Rosie after a bad dream.”
Olivia pushed the door open.
And there he was.
A bare-chested man, his muscled torso illuminated by the golden glow of a bedside lantern. A small child lay curled against him, her tiny head resting on his broad shoulder—asleep, completely at peace.
Malik’s smile fell the moment his gaze met mine.
I stilled, my breath locking in my throat.
My mind fractured—images flooded my brain like a torrential downpour.
This was the man from Costa’s party.
The man from my nightmares.
A shadow of recognition tore through me.
I knew him not just from tonight, not just from Olivia’s past, but from something deeper.
Something older.
I had hunted alongside him before, if not in this lifetime, then in another. It wasn’t just a dream.
Malik’s expression mirrored my own.
He lowered the child onto the bed, tucking the blankets around her small frame with uncharacteristic tenderness.
For a brief moment, my attention settled on the beautiful, innocent girl untouched by the darkness of this world.
But then, Malik’s gaze pulled me back.
And I knew.
I knew he felt it, too.
“You may have been born a monster,” I said, the words bubbling up from the deep recesses of my mind—spoken before I even understood their significance.
Malik’s emerald eyes burned, his voice a whisper of something ancient as he finished the phrase—
“But I will never die a monster.”
A shiver rippled down my spine.
“What the hell is going on?” Olivia demanded, her eyes darting between us in confusion.
Malik didn’t even glance at her. His focus was locked on me.
His lips parted.
“You remember,” Malik murmured, his unearthly green eyes burning like embers in the dark.
“I remember,” I admitted. “But I don’t understand how. It’s like shards of a mirror—fragments falling into place, but I can’t see the full reflection.”
Olivia let out an exasperated sigh, her hands flying to her hips. “Will somebody please fill me in? What the hell is going on between you two?” She shot a glare at Malik. “And why did you abandon me at the party? You said you’d stay and keep me safe.”
Malik’s expression was downright infuriating. “I knew you were safe.” He leaned back against the edge of the bed, casual, unaffected. “I could hear you fucking in Costa’s office.”
Olivia’s mouth fell open. “Excuse me?”
Malik shrugged, his lips twitching. “Well… you and Roman were fucking.” He gestured between us as if that explained everything. “I was no longer needed.”
Olivia’s jaw clenched. “So, you just left me?”
“I figured you were otherwise occupied,” he explained.
“Did you see us?” Olivia’s voice sharpened, her hands tightening into fists at her sides.
Malik chuckled, his gaze dark with amusement. “No, but the noise penetrated the hallway while I searched for you.”
Spikes of jealousy stabbed through my chest, my fists curling at my sides.
“I know you tried to seduce my wife while we were apart,” I growled.
Malik’s expression didn’t shift. He lifted one shoulder in a careless shrug. “It seemed natural to do—given our pasts.”
My frown deepened as the memories swirled, pieces clicking together in ways I hadn’t expected.
“If it weren’t for the darkness in my veins,” I murmured, realization sinking into my bones, “Olivia would have given up on me. She would have gone to you, Malik.”
Olivia’s brows snapped together. “Oh, so now you two are deciding my fate? While I’m right here?” She snapped her fingers between us. “Hello—Olivia is standing here! And neither of you is making sense.”
My eyes turned to her—my wife, my salvation, my torment.
She stood disheveled and untamed, her gown wrinkled and smeared with dried droplets of blood, a sweeping pattern across the fabric like some morbid piece of art. Her vibrant red hair hung in tangled waves around her face, dark circles shadowing her eyes from exhaustion.
And yet—
She was still the most breathtaking creature I had ever seen.
And as the memories filled my mind, shifting, stitching themselves together into something half-forgotten, half-real, I saw something else—
She reminded me of someone.
Someone from my past.
Someone from another time, another life.
My pulse pounded.
I reached for her, my knuckles brushing down her cheek, my voice low, possessive, edged with something deeper than love.
“I don’t want what we had in the past,” I murmured, my thumb tracing the curve of her jaw, my voice low, raw, unshakable. “I won’t share you—you know that.”
Olivia’s brows knitted together, her eyes searching mine. “Roman…” Her voice held both concern and confusion. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I don’t understand. What past are you talking about?”
I held her gaze, my pulse thudding against my ribs.
“You know the dreams?” I said my voice barely above a whisper. “The fires? The loss of my whole family?”
Olivia’s lips parted, her breath hitching.
“Your nightmares, yes,” she murmured. “The ones that match mine.”
“They’re not just nightmares, amore mio.”
I caught her hand, pressing a reverent kiss to her palm. “They were real. You died in a fire—along with our children.”
Her breath left her in a shuddering gasp.
Malik stood silent, his expression unreadable.
My body tensed with fury, the fire roaring back into my blood as the next words tore from my throat.
“And if you hadn’t had an affair with my wife—”
The sentence clotted my throat, rage coiling like a viper in my chest.
Malik staggered back, his hand clutching his heart as though my words had physically struck him.
“Roman…” His voice broke thick with something heavy and remorseful. “Please… forgive me.” His emerald eyes shimmered, his breath unsteady. “I have made many mistakes in the past… but my biggest regret, the one that haunts me most, was losing you two.”
His voice quivered, his expression open, exposed. “I think of what you always told me.” His eyes locked onto mine, glistening.
“I might have been born a monster…”
I stepped forward, my voice flat yet weighted with something ancient.
“You will never die a monster.”
The words felt like a vow from another time, something etched into our existence.
Olivia threw her hands between us, her voice rising, desperate for clarity.
“Would someone please tell me what the hell is going on?!” she shouted, whipping her gaze between us. “You’re acting like you know Malik—like you’ve known him for centuries.”
I turned to her, my hands cupping her face, my fingertips pressing into her skin.
I had loved her beyond time, beyond lifetimes, beyond reason itself.
And somehow, she had always found her way back to me.
“We met in another lifetime,” I whispered, my voice aching with certainty. “You and I will always find one another.” My thumb stroked her cheek, reverent. “We are soulmates.”
Olivia’s lips parted, her chest rising and falling unevenly.
“We what?” she breathed, her gaze darting between me and Malik.
Malik exhaled shakily, his posture softening.
“Roman’s right,” he said, his voice carrying a finality that sent a shiver down my spine.
“We have all met before.” His eyes held centuries of secrets.
“In another lifetime.”
His words hung heavy in the air, thick with destiny and revelation.
“The year 1359 A.D.” His voice dipped lower, almost reverent.
“In Britannia.”
My pulse roared in my ears.
Malik’s gaze locked onto Olivia, his expression soft, filled with something unfathomable.
“You were known as Isabelle.”
He turned to me, his jaw tightening as if the memories burned as much as mine.
“You were Armand Farcourt.”
Then, his voice dropped to a whisper, edged with a sadness that ran centuries deep.
“You were among the only two women I have ever loved.”