Back home in his loft, the ancient book was heavy in Zane's hands. Its leather-bound cover is worn from centuries of use and dust. He'd found it tucked away in a forgotten corner of the archives, a relic older than the city itself, and now it lay open before him in the dim light of his private study.
The pages crackled as Zane flipped through them, the ink barely legible in some places but still sharp in others. It was a prophecy, one spoken of in hushed whispers among the vampire and supernatural communities. But he hadn't heard the full version, not until now. As he read, his heart tightened with a mix of dread and realization.
The words were written in an ancient language, one that Zane could read, just barely. They described the fateful return of a woman, one whose power would shake the very foundations of their world.
'In the time of shadows, when the moon fades to crimson, she will return. A child of ink and blood, born of forgotten souls and bound by an unbreakable curse. She shall walk among them, unaware, but her power will be undeniable.'
Zane's eyes lingered on that first line, his breath catching. "She will return." He couldn't stop the flood of memories of Nyx—her laughter, her tattoos, the way her touch felt like lightning across his skin. He could feel the pull of her even now, even from across the room. It had been impossible to ignore, and now it seemed even fate itself had conspired to bring them together.
The prophecy continued, its meaning becoming clearer with every word.
"In her hands, the ink will carry the blood of the past, and her art will awaken forgotten souls. But beware, for the power she wields can be both a weapon and a curse. The ones who seek her will seek destruction, and the arcane bound will carry the weight of the world upon their shoulders; for he is the shield."
Zane felt a cold shiver run down his spine. He had always known that Nyx was different—her tattoos, the way they seemed to affect those around her, the way they seemed to have a life of their own. But this… this was something far greater than he had realized.
"In the end, she will have to choose. To embrace her past or forge a new path. Bound by blood and fate, in the final confrontation of life and death."
His pulse quickened as he read the last line. "Final confrontation." He had always feared this, feared that his attachment to her, his growing feelings, would pull him into something far darker than either of them could have anticipated. And now, it seemed, the prophecy had sealed it: there was no escaping it.
Zane took a deep breath, his hands trembling slightly as he turned the page. What lay ahead for them was a path filled with danger, but he wasn't going to walk it alone. Not when Nyx was the one who would decide it all.
The last words of the prophecy were etched in gold ink, almost as if they were meant to stand out above the rest. Zane could feel them burn into his memory as he read them aloud to the empty room.
"And when the ink of fate runs dry, the one born of blood and shadows will decide the fate of them all. Blood weaver, will be both savior and destroyer."
Zane's throat tightened. There it was—Nyx. The immortal artist. The woman who held the power of creation and destruction in her hands. The one who had been cursed to reincarnate, bound by the choices of her past lives, forced to carry the weight of an unimaginable legacy. And now, he was a part of it. Whether he liked it or not, he was tangled in this fate, and there was no turning back.
As he closed the book, the room fell silent. Zane could feel the weight of the prophecy pressing down on him. Nyx was going to need him, just as she always had, and he couldn't let her face whatever was coming alone. They were bound together by blood, by fate—and now, by a prophecy that neither of them could outrun.
He had to find her. He had to warn her.
But more than that, he had to help her choose before the ink of fate ran dry. But how?
Zane stared at the closed book in his hands, his mind racing. The weight of the prophecy, the curse, and the deep bond he shared with Nyx pressed on him like a thousand pounds of stone. But as his eyes drifted over the words he had just read, something inside him flickered—an ancient truth he had only begun to understand.
Nyx wasn't just any woman. She had lived many lives, each one more intertwined with his than the last. Her reincarnations were not mere accidents of fate—they were cycles, eternal, bound by the same love, the same curse. And with each life, she grew more powerful, more connected to the world around her, more attuned to the magic of the ink that ran through her veins.
The pages of the prophecy continued to haunt him, the weight of their meaning settling into his bones.
"She will return. A child of ink and blood, born and forged forgotten souls and bound by an unbreakable curse."
The curse wasn't just a simple entanglement of past lives—it was a force that had shaped her entire existence. Zane knew it better than anyone. He had witnessed the endless cycles of her lives, the ones where she died too young, where they were torn apart by forces beyond their control, and where love—their love—was never enough to shield them from fate. How could he be sure it would this time?
But now, in this life, she has awakened. She had memories, powers, and a connection to the supernatural world that even she didn't fully understand yet. Things the others did not possess. The tattoos she created, the way they affected those around her, were part of the magic of her soul, a magic that had bound them together in every life.
As Zane looked back through the dim light of his study, he thought of Neima, of Isla, of Calliope. The woman Nyx had once been in past lives, all of them parts of her soul, pieces of the same unbroken thread. He wondered if all those pieces would make her whole.
And then there was the most recent life—the one where they finally found each other again.
"Bound by blood and fate."
Zane's heart raced as the last line of the prophecy echoed in his mind. His connection to Nyx was more than just an emotional bond—it was an ancient, primal force that had manifested through their connection in past lives. He had been her protector, her lover, and she his. They had been connected in ways that transcended time and space. In every life, they found each other—drawn together by an unseen force, bound by fate, and by the indelible mark of their love.
But in this life, it would be different. This time, their bond wasn't just a fleeting, tragic romance. It was a chance to change everything, to break the cycle. But only if they were willing to make the ultimate sacrifice.
His thoughts drifted back to the moment when he had first realized the true depth of their connection. Nyx's power had awakened fully that night—the night she had tattooed him, and their souls had intertwined. That was the moment the prophecy had started to unfold, the moment they had crossed a line they couldn't return from.
The physical bond they shared—what the vampires of his kind called Arcane bound—wasn't just an act of intimacy. It was a joining of souls, an ancient rite that bound two beings together in a way that transcended time and death. For Zane and Nyx, it was something more than even that. Their union was a confirmation of their eternal connection, a declaration that, in whatever form their souls took, they would always find each other.
Zane ran his fingers through his hair, the weight of their bond feeling heavier now. He couldn't deny it any longer—he had to unite with her, and she had mated with him. It wasn't just physical; it was spiritual. Their souls were intertwined, bound by the curse of the past, by their love, and by the inevitable battle to come.
The prophecy had spoken of a final confrontation, of a choice Nyx would have to make—whether to embrace her past or forge a new path. But there was more at stake here. They both knew that their love was more than just a weapon in the hands of fate. It was the key to breaking the cycle that had haunted her for centuries.
Zane's heart was heavy with the realization that, just as the prophecy said, he would have to stand by her side—not only in the final battle but in everything that led up to it. He couldn't let her face the truth of her past alone, couldn't let her bear the burden of the curse without the weight of his love and protection.
The door to his loft creaked open, and Zane looked up to see Nyx standing there, framed by the dim light of the hallway. She was more than just a woman to him now; She was his fate. Her gaze locked with his, and in that moment, he knew—he didn't have to say the words. She already knew.
"You've been reading it," she said softly, stepping into the room. Her voice carried the weight of understanding, of a knowledge she hadn't been able to put into words herself. She knew of his and Jax's visit to the archives and their intricate findings.
Zane nodded, setting the book aside. "Yes, The Aeternus Prophecies. About you. Us."
Nyx's lips pressed into a thin line, her brows furrowing as she walked toward him. "What does it say?"
"It states that you're the one who will decide everything—life, death, the future. And that we're bound together, bound by more than just this life. You and I are Arcane bound. And there will be a final confrontation."
"So a boss battle and Red string theory? Piece of cake," She joked, slightly seriously. He gave her a small smile, shaking his head. "Yes, Lovie, but stronger. Arcane bound is also called soul bound. It means our souls are tied into one. We were created to be together. I don't know what the final confrontation entails, but I got you."
Nyx closed her eyes for a moment, as if absorbing the truth of it all. "In a way,y it's like I already know that," she whispered. "like, I've known about it for a while. But now I have a name for it. I didn't know how deep it ran."'
Zane's heart ached at her words. He knew that despite her appearing to be human, and living like one, she had struggled with the weight of their connection, just as he had. But now that they were standing here, facing the truth of it, there was no turning back. There was no choice but to face it together.
Without saying another word, Zane reached for her, pulling her into his arms. He could feel the pulse of their bond deep in his chest, the magic of their mating humming between them. The world outside seemed to fade as he kissed her—slow, deep, and full of the unspoken promises they had made across countless lives.
The kiss was everything they had been before, and everything they were now. It was the acknowledgment of a love that couldn't be undone, even by death. Nyx's hands slid up to his shoulders, her fingers tracing the scar on his neck—the one that had been left by the vampire who had created him. She touched it like she was memorizing every part of him, as if understanding the mark that had made him what he was.
When they finally broke apart, both of them breathless, Zane could see it in her eyes. The same fear, the same desire, the same burning need to make this work, to fight for each other despite everything.
"We can do this," Zane said, his voice raw. "Together. No matter what's coming, we can face it."
Nyx smiled, but it was a smile laced with something deeper—something ancient, something powerful. "I know we can," she replied, her fingers brushing against his cheek, her touch a reminder of the power they held in their hands.
And as they stood there, in the silence that followed, Zane knew one thing for certain: their souls were bound, and whatever came next, they would face it together. Their love, their connection—it was both their strength and their curse. But it was also their salvation.