67. Julian
Julian
This sanctuary in the mountains was supposed to be our safe haven. It lasted not even forty-eight hours.
Every time I closed my eyes, I was back in the pines, the beam of my Maglite cutting through the dark only to land on the one thing I couldn’t bear to see. Sage. Laying there in the dirt, her costume shredded and her body unnervingly still.
It was a sickening echo of a past I thought I’d escaped. It reminded me too much of the last time I’d found her broken and lifeless in the shadows, and the familiar, cold dread was beginning to swallow me whole.
I was spiralling. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking, and the air in the house felt too thick to breathe.
I didn’t know what to do. I was the one who was supposed to protect her—the one who set the rules to keep her safe—and yet I’d walked right past her while my brother, my twin, claimed her just feet away.
The darkened window reflected a man who was quickly losing his grip on the game—someone I no longer recognised.
Cain hadn’t just taken Sage that night; he’d reached into my chest and dragged up every ghost I’d spent years trying to outrun.
The worst part was I knew he was still out there, laughing at the wreckage he’d left behind.
I packed us up at first light the next morning, throwing our bags into the Land Rover while the mountain was still cloaked in thick fog.
Sage had woken up shivering in my arms, clutching her head, convinced that the heavy fog of the sedative was just a terrible hangover from mixing her drinks.
She thought she had tripped in the dark while we were playing our game, hitting her head on a rock and passing out from the combined shock and alcohol.
She didn’t know that before she even opened her eyes, I had carefully carried her limp body into the shower.
Standing under the warm water, I had gently washed the forest dirt, the cold sweat, and the phantom traces of my brothers touch off her skin while she remained unconscious.
I dressed her in clean clothes and tucked her safely into bed.
Then, I took my costume and the ruined remains of her Angel outfit and burned them to ash in the fireplace.
I had to destroy the evidence—just so she would never have to question how the fabric of her corset had been ripped clean in half, or where the stains came from.
I let her believe her own story. I held her close, smoothed her hair, and lied straight to her face.
I didn’t have the heart to shatter her reality. But the crushing weight of the truth was building in my chest, and I knew the day of reckoning was rapidly approaching. How could I effectively protect her from a predator she didn’t even know existed?
I sat back in the plush leather chair of the high-end real estate office, staring blankly at the polished glass desk.
I picked up the gold pen and signed the final dotted line on the thick stack of paperwork.
Thanks to a few quiet, extremely expensive calls made in the dead of night, I had acquired yet another, flawless set of new fake IDs.
I signed the lease under the new alias, paying for six months upfront in untraceable cash.
The ink dried on a lease for a sprawling penthouse in one of the city’s most expensive, highly secured high-rise apartments. It had biometric locks, a private elevator with key-card access, and a 24/7 armed concierge team in the lobby.
It was as safe as a building could possibly be.
Sage was back in class today, surrounded by crowds and daylight. She had agreed to give up her vulnerable student apartment and move in with me immediately. The still lingering terror of the “city stalker” made her compliant and eager for the safety I offered.
If she only knew, I thought bitterly, sliding the signed contract back to the broker.
A dark, heavy knot of anxiety twisted in my gut.
Would she hate me in the end? When she finally found out the truth—about our past, about my brother, about the fact that she was the reincarnation of a woman murdered a century ago, would she look at me with the same admiration in her eyes? Would all of this be for nothing?
It was a blessing that our connection had instantly blossomed on its own. I had little doubt about the depth of her feelings. Our souls had recognised each other the second our eyes locked. She is, and always will be, the one and only love of my life. I firmly believe I was, and still am, hers.
We just needed a chance to actually be together. To be free. A second-chance. A future that wasn’t dictated by blood and betrayal. I was fighting for that future with every fibre of my immortal being.
If it were up to me, I would have whisked her away onto a private jet the morning after the incident in the woods and hidden her in a fortified compound in a foreign country somewhere.
But as good as things were going between us, moving in together was already a massive step for her.
By all normal standards, we hardly knew each other and I was already toeing the dangerous, razor-thin line between playing the cute, protective boyfriend and entering psychotic, controlling warden territory.
I stood up, shaking the agents hand, and pocketed the heavy ring of magnetic keycards.
As I walked out of the office and onto the bustling city street, the cold air hit my face, but it did nothing to cool the simmering rage left behind post Cains recent assault on Sage.
The high-rise was a fortress, yes. But I knew better than anyone that steel doors and security cameras were just decoration for him. If Cain wanted to find us, he would. And he’s made that abundantly clear. I couldn’t just keep playing defence, waiting for the next attack in the dark.
I needed to find a way to put an end to this game permanently.
I walked towards my parked car, my jaw clenched so hard my teeth ached.
Cain had already gotten exactly what he wanted a century ago.
He had ruined us. He was doomed to live in his miserable, psychopathic reality for eternity.
Why must he still try and fuck with mine all these years later?
There was nothing more he could take from me. There was nothing more I could give.
Except her.
The passenger door swung open. Sage practically threw herself into the leather seat, tossing her class supplies into the back before slamming the door shut. Her cheeks were flushed from the wind, her pretty eyes alight with an infectious, buzzing energy.
“Okay, tell me everything,” she demanded before she had even buckled her seatbelt. “What floor are we on? Does it have a balcony? Is it modern? Do we have to buy furniture?”
I merged us smoothly back into the city traffic, letting out a slight, amused laugh.
Beneath the amusement, a pang of guilt tightened in my chest. I felt terrible for shutting her out of the process, but I couldn’t risk it. I couldn’t let her see the fake IDs, the forged background checks, or the unexplainable amount of money I was using to build our new life.
When I was virtually touring the highly secured real estate options, I had bypassed the ultra-modern glass boxes and specifically hunted for something that matched her soul.
The penthouse I chose had all the state of the art security features I demanded, but the interior was different.
It had a laid back, vintage 80s penthouse vibe.
Sunken living spaces, rich velvet textures, and an aesthetic that perfectly matched her fascination with all things nostalgic and soulful.
The best part was the massive, floor-to-ceiling glass wall that faced directly out over the ocean. I could already perfectly picture her sitting there in the evenings, the vintage record player spinning in the background, her hands covered in paint while she worked on her art.
“It’s a surprise,” I teased, shooting her a sideways glance. “We’ll be there in ten minutes. You’re so impatient.”
Sage groaned dramatically, throwing her head back against the headrest. “I am not impatient! I just like to be prepared.”
She spent the rest of the drive filling the quiet cab with the best sound in the world: her voice.
We joked back and forth, and she animatedly recounted the details of her art seminars and the clay piece she had finished that afternoon.
I just listened, letting the bright normalcy of her day, wash over the dark volatile edges of my mind.
When I finally pulled up to the circular valet driveway of the high-rise, Sages animated chatter ground to an immediate halt.
She leaned forwards, pressing her hands against the dashboard, staring up through the windshield at the imposing scale of the luxury building.
“Julian…” she breathed, her eyes widening as the valet rushed over to open her door. “I don’t think I even want to know how much this cost.”
I handed the keys to the valet and walked around the hood of the car, wrapping my arm securely around her waist.
“It’s nothing you have to worry about,” I told her as I guided her through the glass doors. “I told you that already. All you need to do is move in. Nothing else.”
She looked up at me, a soft smile breaking across her face. She reached up, lightly brushing her fingers against the line of my jaw.
“You’re too perfect, you know that?” she whispered.
If you only knew who was standing in front of you, I thought, but I simply leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.
We stepped into the lobby, a sprawling expanse of imported marble and brass. The concierge at the front desk gave a polite, respectful nod, which I returned before leading Sage to the private glass elevator at the back of the building.
I swiped the encrypted keycard, and the heavy doors slid shut.