Reborn To Change My Fate-Chapter 273 - Two Hundred And Seventy Two

Derek was running. He was a man alone in a frozen wasteland. His breath came in ragged, white clouds. His boots slipped on the ice. He was reaching for something, reaching for her, but the distance between them kept growing.

Thwip.

The sound was sharp, a whisper of death in the wind.

An arrow struck him. It pierced his leg. He stumbled, but he didn’t fall. He kept running, limping, desperate.

Thwip.

Another arrow. This one hit his shoulder. The impact spun him around. He fell to his knees in the snow. The cold seeped into his bones instantly.

He looked up.

Prince Liam stood over him. The Prince was smiling, a cold, beautiful, terrible smile. He held a sword. The steel glinted in the winter sun. 𝘧𝓇𝑒𝑒𝑤ℯ𝑏𝓃𝘰𝑣ℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

"Please," Derek whispered. "Mercy."

He wasn’t begging for his life. He was begging for the chance to see Marissa one last time.

Liam laughed. It was the sound of breaking glass.

"Mercy is for the living," Liam said.

He swung the sword.

The blade cut through the air. It connected with his neck, severing his head off his body. Derek’s headless body fell to the snow in a low thud.

Marissa screamed.

Her eyes snapped open. She sat up violently in the bed, her chest heaving.

The room was bright. The morning sun streamed through the heavy velvet drapes, casting long beams of golden light across the floor. Dust motes danced in the air, peaceful and slow.

Marissa looked around wildly. Her heart was hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. She was sweating. Her nightgown clung to her skin, damp and uncomfortable. Her hair was a wet, tangled mess around her face.

"Derek?" she gasped.

She reached out to the other side of the bed.

It was empty.

The sheets were cool to the touch. The pillow was unpressed. The indentation where his body should have been was gone.

Panic, cold and sharp, flooded her veins. The image of the dream—the sword, the blood, the snow—overlaid the reality of the bright room.

"Derek," she said again. Her voice was low, a trembling whisper.

There was no answer. The room was silent.

"Derek!" she called out, her voice gaining strength, edging toward hysteria.

She threw the covers off. She didn’t bother with her robe. She didn’t bother with her slippers. She scrambled out of bed, her bare feet hitting the cold floor.

She ran to the bathing room. Empty.

She ran to the dressing room. Empty.

"He is gone," her mind whispered. "The dream was true. He is gone."

She ran to the door of the bedroom. She yanked it open and stepped out into the hallway.

The corridor was quiet. Sunlight spilled from the high windows.

She looked left. Empty.

She looked right.

There.

Halfway down the hallway, near the top of the grand staircase, stood a figure. It was Derek.

He was wearing his trousers and a loose white shirt, the sleeves rolled up. He was standing with his back to her, talking to someone in the shadows of an alcove.

Marissa squinted. The person in the shadows was dressed in black. A mask covered his face. It was one of the Elite Shadows.

Derek handed the man a small, folded piece of paper. The Shadow took it, bowed low, and then vanished. He didn’t walk away; he simply seemed to melt into the darkness of the wall, disappearing from sight.

Derek stood there for a moment, looking at the spot where the spy had been. He ran a hand through his hair.

Marissa didn’t care about the spy. She didn’t care about the secrets. She only cared that he was standing there, breathing.

"Derek!" she cried out.

Derek turned around.

He saw her. He saw her standing in the hallway in her thin nightgown, her feet bare, her hair wild. He saw the terror etched into her pale face. He saw the way she was trembling.

His expression changed instantly. The serious, calculating look vanished. His face softened with concern.

"Mari?" he asked.

He started walking toward her. "Is something wrong?"

Marissa didn’t wait. She ran.

She flew down the hallway, her feet slapping against the wood. She closed the distance between them in seconds.

She threw herself at him.

She wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her face in his chest. She held him as if he were made of mist, as if he would disappear if she let go for even a second.

"You are here," she sobbed into his shirt. "You are here."

Derek stumbled back a step from the impact, but he caught her. His arms wrapped around her automatically, holding her tight. He felt her shaking. He felt the dampness of her sweat through his shirt.

He looked down at the top of her head. He was confused, but his instinct was to comfort.

He patted her head gently, smoothing her messy hair.

"I am fine," Derek said softly. "I am here. I haven’t gone anywhere."

Marissa couldn’t stop the tears. The relief was overwhelming.

"I had a dream," she whispered. Her voice was muffled in the fabric of his clothes. "A terrible dream."

Derek rubbed her back. "What happened?"

"You..." Marissa choked on the words. "You were running. There was snow. And an arrow. And then Liam... he... he killed you. You left me to be a widow."

She tightened her grip, her fingers digging into his back.

"It felt so real," she cried. "I woke up and you weren’t there."

Derek’s heart clenched. He hated that she was in pain. He hated that his absence, even for a few minutes, had caused her fear.

He kissed the top of her head. He kissed her hair, smelling the lavender scent that he loved.

"I can never leave you, Mari," Derek vowed. His voice was deep and rumbling in his chest.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to lift her chin with his finger. He looked into her tear-filled eyes.

"You are life," he said. "You are my life. Even if death wants to separate me from you... even if the King of Hell himself comes for me... I will fight him."

He wiped a tear from her cheek with his thumb.

"And I will win," he promised. "So don’t worry about it. Okay? It was just a dream."

Marissa looked at him. She saw the solidness of his jaw. She saw the fire in his eyes. He looked unbreakable.

She nodded slowly. She took a deep, shaky breath.

"Okay," she whispered.

Derek smiled. He shifted his stance. He bent down and swept her up into his arms. He lifted her off the floor as if she weighed nothing.

Marissa gasped, wrapping her arms around his neck for stability. She rested her head on his shoulder.

Derek carried her back down the hallway. He walked into the bedroom and kicked the door shut behind him.