He stared at the photo for a long, unbroken moment, his eyes tracing every detail as if willing it to change, to shift, to reveal a different truth. As if the cruel reality staring back at him could somehow vanish under the weight of his denial. But no matter how long he looked, no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise, the truth remained. Unforgiving. Clear. Undeniable.
The hair. The eyes. That same unmistakable smile—soft, radiant, and hauntingly familiar. Just like when they were children. Just like when the world was still innocent, before it all fell apart. Before he was torn from that world, from her, and thrown into the pit of shadows.
Serena.
Now going by the name Alina Rowe.
His heart thundered in his chest, each beat echoing the memories flooding his mind, but his thoughts stayed razor-sharp. He had been only a child back then, small and powerless, when everything was ripped away from him. One moment they were together—laughing, playing, existing in that small slice of peace—and the next, she was gone. Or rather, he was. Taken by force, dragged into a life soaked in blood and silence. A life where names were stripped, emotions were weaknesses, and attachments were punishable by death.
He had never seen her again. Not once. Not in passing, not in glimpses. No letters. No rumors. Nothing.
She had been left behind to live what he could only assume was a normal life. She had stayed with her family while he was trained to kill, trained to erase everything that made him human. They had taken his name, his warmth, his memories—except for her. Serena had always stayed buried somewhere deep, unreachable, locked behind walls of steel. Until now.
Until this moment.
Now, as he stared at the photo of Alina Rowe, standing in the exact position Serena once had in one of his most precious, painful memories, the illusion shattered.
This woman—this supposed target—wasn't just a coincidence. She was Serena.
And that realization hit him like a blade through the ribs.
How had she ended up here? In this city? In this place? So close, and yet still so far?
Had she ever known what happened to him? Had she spent her life wondering where he'd gone? Or had she been told a lie, maybe convinced he'd died, or worse—forgotten him entirely?
Did she remember him at all?
Blaze took in a sharp breath, stepping away from the window where the moonlight painted cold shapes across the floor. The photo trembled slightly in his fingers. It was more than just an image now. It was a key. A revelation. Proof that the past had found a way to claw its way back into the present.
The last time he saw her, they had still been innocent—children standing on the edge of a world they didn't understand. And then he had vanished. Just like that. The clan had stolen him away that night. No goodbyes. No explanations. Just silence.
And she… she had been left behind.
But now, she was here. Alive. Breathing. Sleeping in the next room with no idea who he really was or what had become of him.
And the cruelest part of it all? The clan had marked her.
She was a target.
A threat, they said. An obstacle in the way of their growing empire.
They had sent him—their perfect weapon—to eliminate her. Because to them, she was just another name. Another task. Another loose end to tie up.
But they hadn't told him who she really was.
They hadn't expected this.
And now? Everything had changed.
He turned slowly, eyes falling on her sleeping figure across the room. She lay in perfect stillness, unaware of the war raging just feet away. Unaware that the blade meant for her had suddenly turned direction.
His breath caught in his throat. A thousand questions swirled in his mind. How had she survived? What had she gone through? Was Alina Rowe a name she'd chosen? Or one she'd been forced to adopt?
He clenched his fists, the need to uncover the truth growing inside him like wildfire. This wasn't about the mission anymore. It was about her. About Serena. About the life they could have had—the life he had lost.
Was she living in ignorant bliss, never knowing the darkness that had swallowed him? Or was there something deeper at play? Had she always been in hiding? Was this reunion truly an accident? Or had someone orchestrated it all?
Was the clan testing him?
His hands trembled at the thought, rage mixing with sorrow in a bitter storm.
No. He couldn't think like that. Not now.
He backed away, eyes never leaving her, not even for a second. His entire body buzzed with a new kind of energy—one not fueled by orders, but by purpose. A purpose born not from the clan's mission… but from his own.
He shut the door behind him with a soft, deliberate click. The quiet inside the room was deafening, wrapping around him like a shroud. But inside, within the chaos of his heart, the silence was shattered.
That photo… her face… that smile.
It was her.
Serena.
And suddenly, everything he had been taught—every discipline, every kill, every emotion he'd buried—was unraveling.
He sat down slowly on the edge of the bed, the mattress groaning beneath his weight. His hands curled into fists around the sheets, gripping them until his knuckles turned white.
They had lied to him.
Or maybe they'd just never cared enough to tell him the truth.
To them, she was just an assignment. An inconvenience.
To him, she was everything they had tried to erase.
The clan had made him their blade. A silent killer with no past and no future. He was meant to obey, not question. To eliminate, not remember.
But now he remembered.
And that changed everything.
He leaned back, eyes drifting to the ceiling. The weight of the past pressed against his chest like a vice, suffocating.
He had been stolen from her. From them. From a chance at something human.
All while she had gone on, maybe searching, maybe not. Just trying to survive. Just trying to move forward.
And now they wanted him to take that from her, too?
No. He wouldn't allow it.
Not this time.
The clan didn't make him. They broke him.
And they didn't get to decide what he did now.
The wind outside howled, rattling the windowpane as if the night itself could sense the shift inside him. Blaze stood still, the silence in the room pressing against him like a weight. His thoughts refused to quiet down. Every memory of Serena played like a reel in his mind—her laughter, her voice, the way she used to tug on his sleeve when she wanted to show him something silly. And now, all these years later, fate had placed her back in his path, but under a name that wasn't hers, and in a world that was never meant to be touched by the shadows he had been forged in.
How much of her past did she remember?
Had she forgotten him entirely? Buried their childhood beneath the comfort of a normal life? Or did she carry the same ache he did—the unanswered questions, the sharp pain of loss that never dulled?
He clenched his fists. His nails bit into the skin of his palms, grounding him. He couldn't afford to spiral now. Not when everything was at stake. He had to tread carefully. If the clan even suspected he was hesitating, they'd send another in his place. One who wouldn't ask questions. One who would finish the job with no mercy.
They wouldn't give her the grace he just had.
The thought made something dark rise in him. Rage. For years, he had buried his emotions under obedience and discipline, doing what he was told without hesitation. But now—now the dam was cracking. Emotions spilled into the cracks like wildfire, dangerous and uncontainable.
He turned back toward the bed where she lay. Serena—Alina—was still asleep, the faintest hint of a smile on her lips, like she was dreaming of something soft and kind. Blissfully unaware. But how long would that last?
If the clan knew her true identity… if they knew who she really was to him… they'd never let her live.
That settled it. He couldn't run from this anymore.
He wouldn't just protect her. He'd uncover the truth—about what happened after he was taken, about how Serena became Alina Rowe. And more importantly, he'd destroy every thread that tied her to the clan's radar.
If she had secrets, he would unearth them. If there were enemies hunting her, he would strike first. She didn't deserve to become collateral in a war she never asked for. And maybe… maybe this was his chance at redemption.
A part of him—a tiny, buried part—wondered if he could ever be more than a weapon. If, by saving her, he could save what little was left of himself.
He took one last look at her, then turned away.
The shadows would be watching. The clan would notice his delay soon, if they hadn't already. He had to move fast, erase his trail, and find a safehouse. One far from their reach. And more than that—he needed to find allies. People who knew how the clan worked, who had escaped like him or who had fought back.
But that could wait until morning.
For tonight, he would stay close. Just in case. Just to make sure she was safe.
As he slipped out of the room once more, his hand lingered on the doorknob.
"Sleep easy, Serena," he whispered. "You're not alone this time."
And then he vanished into the night, a ghost moving between shadows, no longer a servant to the clan's will—but a storm brewing just beyond their control.
He rose to his feet, staring out the window again. The world outside was still, quiet—deceptive. Somewhere beyond those trees, she was still sleeping peacefully. Oblivious. Vulnerable.
And the one sent to kill her?
He had just made a decision.
One that would change everything.
The mission still stood. But it was his now. His mission. His terms.
He would protect her. No matter the cost.
Even if it meant going against the people who forged him.
Even if it meant destroying them.
He stepped into the night, the cold wind biting at his skin, but his resolve was like fire—steady, fierce, unstoppable.
From this moment forward, he was rogue.
And no one—not the clan, not the shadows, not even fate itself—would take her away from him again.
He would uncover the truth.
He would keep her safe.
And if the world had to burn for that to happen, then so be it.