Page 102 of Chasing Eternity

Through this single connection, his lips moved against mine with an intensity that stirred my soul, igniting a fire that had lain dormant during our time apart. With each caress of his lips, each mingling of breath, we were reaffirming our bond, rediscovering the familiar yet always astonishing territory of each other’s taste and touch.

The world outside faded into insignificance, time stood still, and in that moment, there was only two hearts, beating in unison—a testament to the enduring connection that distance could never undo.

When we finally withdrew, I traced a finger down the slight bend of his nose, then along the newer, small crescent scar marking his neck. A terrible lump formed in my throat when I recalled how it got there.

“And Killian?” I asked, hoping it was the last time I ever had to say that name.

Braxton shrugged. “On his way to the hospital. Apparently, he’ll live.”

I nodded, surprised by my relief. As much as Killian angered me, he was right—I’m just not the killing type.

“There’s so much to tell you,” I said. “And I want to hear everything that happened in Greece. But first, I think we should check my dad’s safe. He promised to leave a sum of money to help us start our new lives.”

Together, we made our way through the hidden door, then through the secret room where I came into my power as a Timekeeper, and finally down the hall to where the Salvador Dalí reproduction still hung in its place.

“The Persistence of Memory,” Braxton said, glancing between the print and me. “Seems like a strange coincidence, don’t you think?”

There’s no such thing as coincidence. Everything is connected.

My dad’s words echoed in my head, but I just nodded and spun the combination lock, stopping on the numbers that equaled my birthday.

When I heard that telltale click, I looked at Braxton and said, “Ready?”

He gave a quick nod, eyes shining with anticipation.

Without further delay, I swung the door open to find a single white envelope waiting inside.

“It must be a check,” I said. “Or perhaps the numbers to an offshore bank account.”

With Braxton watching intently, I slid a finger beneath the envelope flap and carefully extracted the item within. My heart pounded as I stared in disbelief.

No.

No-no-no-no-no-no!

How could this be?

Once again, Arthur was ten steps ahead.

With trembling hands and a racing heart, I held it up for Braxton to see.

“My God,” he said. It was all he could say.

Instead of a check or a nice wad of cash, it was a single tarot card—The Wheel of Fortune, the tenth card of the Major Arcana. The very card that started it all.

That was the moment when I realized it was true.

Time really is a flat circle.

And I am the red-cloaked girl, endlessly running through a maze with no beginning or end.

Braxton, Elodie, Killian, and I—all of us are caught in an infinite dance, and Arthur is our tireless director.

I may have won the battle, but there will always be another, and then another after that. There’s no escaping this destiny, this fated role I never auditioned for.

Now, three months into our New York life, with Braxton’s injuries fully healed, and our memories of Gray Wolf fading, I roll onto my side to find Braxton sleeping soundly beside me.

Rising from the bed, I drift to the window, peering into the predawn sky, my fingers instinctively seeking the small golden cage that still hangs from my neck, with its diamond star and lapis moon nestled inside. I recall a passage I once read, proclaiming that in the end, we are all woven from stardust.

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