Reincarnated Soul

Three : Nightmare

“Cassandra…”

The voice echoed through the darkness, soft yet piercing, like a whisper of forgotten love. I looked down to see his angelic face, resting against my shoulder. The warmth of his presence flooded me, a warmth I had longed for, a warmth I had lost. I missed his hugs, his touch, everything about him.

“Yes, Dylan?” I said, my voice trembling with the weight of my longing. My fingers grazed his face, tracing the familiar lines, and the softness of his skin. I didn’t want to let go of this moment. I didn’t want this to end.

“You knew that I love you, right?” His eyes, grey and full of emotion, bored into mine. The words he spoke were like music, each one wrapping around my heart, pulling me deeper into this illusion of peace. His gaze was so deep, so full of love, I could drown in it.

“Yes… and I love you too. You’re my most precious one,” I whispered, my lips pressing against his forehead in a desperate kiss. I breathed in his scent, intoxicated by the fragrance of him. Oh, Dylan, I thought, how I’m so glad you’re mine.

But…

“Then why?”

His voice was different now. It was colder, tinged with something dark, something bitter. I felt the shift in his aura, a weight that pressed down on me, suffocating the warmth. His words, once soft and sweet, now crackled with rage.

My heart stuttered. “Huh? Why what?”

“Why did you kill me? Why did you kill me, Cassandra? How could you not notice that it’s me all along? Why? Cassandra, why???”

The air thickened, his anger seeping into my skin, twisting around my insides. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. His words were sharp, cutting through me, each one a dagger of guilt, each one a reminder of the unspeakable thing I had done.

I stood frozen, my mind swirling in confusion, unable to find the right words. How could I explain? How could I fix this? How could I undo what I had done?

His hand shot out, gripping mine so tightly I could feel the bones in my wrist creak. The pain surged through me, more intense than anything I had ever felt. But it wasn’t just the physical pain that broke me—it was the rage in his eyes.

The betrayal.

The rawness of his anger tore at me.

“No, Dylan… it... it was a mistake, n-no! I didn’t mean to do that… No!” The words tumbled from my lips in a frantic rush, but they were hollow. How could I explain the truth? How could I make him understand when I couldn’t even understand it myself?

But he didn’t let go. His grip tightened, his gaze never wavering from mine. And then, through the blur of my tears, I saw it—the emptiness in his eyes, the coldness where love had once been.

“Why, Cassandra? Why did you kill me?”

.

.

.

“NO!!!”

I woke up screaming, my heart heavy, tears streaming down my face. It was a nightmare, a horrible nightmare—but it felt so real. His warmth, his face, the anger in his eyes—it all felt too real.

“Dylan... I’m really sorry. I love you so much!” The words tumbled out of my mouth, a desperate plea to the emptiness around me. I let out a shaky sigh, but it did nothing to ease the suffocating weight of guilt that crushed my chest. My tears were endless, pouring from my eyes, yet I couldn't stop them.

“I know, I know you’re mad at me, Dylan. I know... I’m sorry... it’s my fault... I’m sorry.” I tried to muffle my sobs, pressing my hands to my mouth, but the pain was too raw. I couldn’t hold it in.

My body trembled with every sob, every broken breath. I slowly reached down to the ground, my fingers grazing the earth where I had buried him—my love, my Dylan. The forest around me felt like a cage, suffocating and cold.

I didn’t want to leave him here, but I had no reason to stay. My life felt like it was falling apart, unraveling. Dylan had been my reason for living, my future, my everything.

We had dreamed together, imagined a life side by side. But now... now he was gone. Gone because of me. The weight of it consumed me, and I could barely breathe.

I couldn’t forgive myself. I was stupid, so stupid. Dylan had trusted me, and I hadn’t even recognized him. How could I have been so blind? How could I not know it was him? He was my lover. He was everything. I was worthless, undeserving of his love, of everything.

Minutes passed, and my tears showed no sign of stopping. I felt exhausted—emotionally, and physically. My body felt like lead as I collapsed beside his grave, lying on the cold ground. I touched the earth again, as if by some miracle, I could still feel him.

His body, his presence, everything about him—gone. The memories haunted me. Every moment we shared played on a loop in my mind. I felt like I was losing my mind. How could I do this to him? To us?

For three years, I had fought to protect him from my own kind, from the dangers of the world, and now... now I was the one who destroyed him. I couldn’t believe it. It had only been a week since his death, but it felt like a lifetime, a lifetime of torment. The image of his lifeless body was burned into my mind. My hands had taken his life. I had done this. I had ended everything.

“I’m a sinner... I should be punished...” The words were hollow, but they were the only truth I could hold onto. I sat up from the ground, my body weak from the endless tears.

Then, I saw it. An arrow, a familiar sight, lying abandoned in the distance. The arrow from the werewolf, the one who had tried to hurt me before. I walked towards it, instinctively reaching out, my fingers brushing the metal tip. The sharpness, the coldness of it... it was perfect.

“This is it. It’s the perfect tool to kill myself,” I murmured to myself, my voice flat. My life had lost all meaning. What was left to live for if I couldn’t be with Dylan? He was gone, and I was the one who had taken him away. I deserved to die.

Clutching the arrow in my hand, I walked back to his grave. My heart was heavy, unbearably heavy, and I knew that this was the only way to end the pain, the only way to escape this hell. I pointed the arrow at my chest, my breath shallow, my hands trembling.

“Dylan... I really love you. I’m so sorry for thi—”

Before I could finish, before the arrow could pierce my heart, I felt a pair of strong hands rip it from my grip.

“Cassandra, no! What are you doing?!”

I stared at the man who had restrained me from ending my life. I never expected him to be here, in this moment. His long, almond-colored hair brushed against his pale face, and though his fangs weren’t visible, his red eyes pierced through the darkness. He wore a dark suit, impeccably neat, his presence as polished and controlled as ever.

It was him.

“Cyprus…” The name escaped my lips, barely a whisper, as I met his gaze. He looked at me with deep concern, his worry etched in every line of his face. Cyprus—my friend since childhood. He had always been there for me, kind and unwavering, but right now, I couldn’t fathom how he had found me, or when he had arrived. His presence was like a shadow, unexpected and overwhelming.

“Cassandra, are you trying to kill yourself?” His voice trembled with urgency.

I couldn’t respond. I couldn’t speak. The words died in my throat as I collapsed in front of him, my tears pouring uncontrollably. The weight of my grief pressed down on me, and all I could do was sob, unable to hide my shame. I was too weak to carry on. The pain was unbearable. I wanted it all to end.

“Look, Cassandra… I’m sorry for what happened to Dylan, I—” Cyprus reached for my shoulders, but I flinched away, unwilling to let him touch me.

“How did you know about what happened?!” My voice cracked, raw with emotion. I needed answers, I needed to know why he was here, why he was trying to stop me.

He couldn’t even meet my eyes. “Queen Lucinda told me,” he muttered, his gaze falling to the ground.

At the sound of my mother’s name, the anger surged through me like a tidal wave. My hatred for her had only grown in that moment. She was the cause of all of this—the reason for everything I had lost. She had controlled me, manipulated me, and I was done.

“That wicked Lucinda!” I screamed, my fist slamming into the ground. The impact cracked the earth beneath me, a sharp, echoing sound that sent a jolt through Cyprus. He stared at me, wide-eyed, his shock mirrored in the tremble of his body.

“She’s still your mother, Cassandra,” he said softly, his voice cautious as he tried to reach for me again. But I recoiled, pulling away as if his touch would burn me. Right now, I couldn’t trust anyone—not even him. My anger clouded my mind, and I saw him as no better than a pawn of the Queen.

“No! I don’t have a mother anymore, Cyprus. Not since the day I left the kingdom!” My voice was harsh, laced with a bitterness I couldn’t control. I hated what she had made me, what she had forced me to become. The heir. Her daughter. The weight of that legacy suffocated me, and I hated every second of it.

“But Cassandra, our kingdom needs you! You’re our princess!” Cyprus’s voice was desperate, trying to reason with me, but I couldn’t listen. I didn’t want to listen. All I wanted was to be gone. To end the agony that gnawed at my soul.

“NO! CYPRUS, I WANT TO DIE! PLEASE LET ME DIE! KILL ME, PLEASE!” I begged, reaching for the arrow he was holding, my hands trembling as I tried to take it from him.

“Cassandra, I can’t do that!” He pulled away, distancing himself from me. His eyes were filled with pain, but his resolve was clear—he couldn’t give me what I wanted.

“If you can’t, let me be,” I spat, my hands shaking as I tried to grab the arrow again. He moved quickly, keeping it out of my reach. My frustration boiled over. “Cyprus! Just give me the arrow!”

“Wait, no, Cassandra, listen! Dylan won’t be happy if you kill yourself, okay?” His words struck like a blade, and I froze. I didn’t know how to feel. His voice seemed to carry the weight of truth, but my grief clouded it all.

Dylan had been angry with me in my dreams. I had killed him. He was dead because of me, and no amount of reasoning could change that.

“It’s my fault, Cyprus. I killed him. I deserve to die,” I whispered, the words like poison on my tongue.

“No, Cassandra, it’s not your fault,” Cyprus insisted, his voice firm, but there was something more—a pleading, a desperation.

Before I could respond, he pulled me into his arms, holding me tightly, as if trying to keep me from falling apart. I resisted at first, but then the floodgates broke open, and I cried harder than I ever had before.

“I miss Dylan so much. I love him so much... but I killed him. It’s my fault, Cyprus,” I sobbed, the words coming out in broken gasps. The pain in my chest felt unbearable, a crushing weight I could no longer hold alone.

Cyprus’s grip tightened around me, a bittersweet comfort in the midst of my despair. His voice was a soft whisper, but his words struck deep. “Cassandra, no. If there’s anyone to blame, it’s your mother. She orchestrated all of this. If you die now, you won’t get the justice Dylan deserves.” His fingers gently brushed through my hair as he spoke, each word trying to pull me back from the edge, his calm presence a silent plea for me to hold on.

Somehow, his words made sense. Yes, the Queen was behind all of this, but... I had taken Dylan's life. I had ended it, drained him dry with my own hands. That thought kept echoing in my mind, drowning out all rationality.

The deafening roar of my own grief drowned out everything.

“I’m still the one who bit his neck. I drank his blood... It was my venom that killed him, Cyprus. I didn’t even recognize him. I didn't recognize his body. He’s my lover, and yet I... I failed him." My voice broke, and the weight of my own foolishness crushed me. "I’m a fool, Cyprus. No matter how you look at it, I’m just a fool."

He pulled away slightly, his hands resting on my shoulders. His eyes were sharp, fierce as they locked onto mine, unwavering.

“You were dizzy that night. The Queen injected a small amount of liquid alloy into your veins, Cassandra. She is the one who did this to you. Not you. She’s the one who caused all of this,” he insisted, his tone thick with conviction.

Wait... liquid alloy?

How did he know that? I didn’t even realize that what they injected into me was an alloy.

I pulled back slightly, confusion overtaking me. “H-how do you know that? Did Lucinda tell you everything?” The suspicion swirled in my mind like a storm.

“It doesn’t matter,” Cyprus said quickly, his expression tight, as if brushing aside something he didn’t want to talk about. “All that matters now is you being strong. You can’t let this destroy you.”

A chill ran down my spine. Something was off. I couldn't shake the feeling that Cyprus had been there, watching from the shadows, during every moment of torment I’d suffered.

Did Lucinda tell him all of this, or had he been there when it all happened? How much did he really know?

Swoosh!

A sudden movement broke my thoughts. An arrow came flying toward me, but Cyprus was faster. He blocked it, his body jerking as it struck his hands. Blood spilled from the wound, staining his dark suit. I gasped, frozen in place, watching as he crumpled slightly under the pain.

“Werewolves. Run, Cassandra!” Cyprus growled, his voice strained but still commanding. I turned, following his gaze to the distance, where a figure stood, bow raised. My heart stopped.

It’s her again.