6 : Heartbreak story

Evelyn

It took me a long while to gather my scattered emotions, and I hadn’t even realized I’d fallen asleep after all the crying. When I finally opened my eyes, the dim glow of evening had crept across the room.

“Shit,” I muttered, shaking my head at my own foolishness. I should have known better. Danger lurked in every shadow of this neighborhood, and yet a strange sense of safety lingered inside me, one I wanted desperately to deny.

Sighing, I rubbed my eyes and glanced around. The room was silent, grave-like in its stillness. Rising from the bed, I hesitated, unsure of what to do next. Raphael was likely immersed in his work, claiming dominion over this house like a dark king in his throne room. I needed to escape, but the thought of leaving this mansion—and its master—filled me with both fear and curiosity.

I couldn’t stay with a man who looked like he’d been carved from marble for a magazine cover. Dangerous, alluring, maddeningly perfect. I tried to push the thought away.

Stop it, Evelyn. Stop it now.

Before I could steady my racing mind, the door creaked open. There he stood—Raphael, the angel of death himself, cloaked in black, radiating a predatory elegance. His shirt was partially unbuttoned, the edge of a tattooed chest visible, sending my imagination spiraling into dangerous territory.

My mouth went dry, my heart hammering as our eyes met. A teasing smile played across his lips.

“You’re awake, finally,” he said softly, stepping closer. “I didn’t want to disturb you, but I had to make sure you were alright after… last night.” He paused, guilt flickering across his sharp features. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Despite his words, the heat of his presence made it nearly impossible to resist him. I forced myself to speak.

“Oh, and now you think everything will be fine?” I arched an eyebrow. “Actually, yes. It’s better to stay away from me—I can only kill.”

A low, inhuman sound escaped him, almost like a growl, but more alien, more wild. In the next instant, his hand tangled in my hair, pulling me gently toward him, while his other lifted my chin, forcing me to meet his blazing eyes. Fire seemed to burn within them, a strange, dangerous emotion I could not name.

“Do not blame yourself for what you are,” he growled. “Never be ashamed of your power. And darling, that you can kill with a touch… it means nothing to me. Nothing.”

I swallowed hard, my voice trembling. “Who am I… and why can I touch you? Why am I poisonous to everyone else, yet you… You’re immune?”

Raphael’s smile was no longer teasing—it was a predator’s smile, sharp and thrilling, full of promises and danger. Yet somehow, it made my chest flutter.

“I am a Phoenix,” he said slowly, each word measured and heavy with authority. “God of Fire, though most call me Death. I am rare—born once every five centuries. I control the paranormal world, all its living beings… including you.” His fingers brushed my hair, a gentleness that contrasted sharply with his dark power.

“And me?” I whispered, clenching my fists.

His gaze pierced me. “You… you were not born with these abilities. You acquired them as a child. At five, a failed experiment in your father’s laboratory gave you this… gift. Poison ran in your veins, lethal to anyone you touched. You survived. Others did not.”

My stomach turned as tears pricked my eyes. “And my father? My family?”

“He became obsessed with your potential, attempting to replicate it through your DNA,” Raphael continued. “But betrayal came swiftly. A SWAT team stormed the lab; your father died for his crimes. You were rescued by your grandfather, the last of your bloodline.”

I could barely breathe, the room spinning with the weight of his revelation. “How… how do you know all this? How can I trust you?”

His expression softened with an impossible mix of guilt and certainty. “Because I was there. I led the mission that ended it. I saw you then, and I knew… You were special, though you came from another world. I waited for you to grow, watched over you. In a previous life, you died tragically. You were reborn.”

My head swam. Reality had fractured into a nightmare I could not wake from.

“I… I don’t understand,” I whispered, letting fresh tears fall. “I don’t remember my father, my childhood. I knew I was different, but… I killed a friend in kindergarten. I didn’t mean it. I’m a killer…” My voice broke, choking on grief and rage at myself.

Raphael lifted my chin gently, forcing me to meet his eyes. He brushed tears from my cheeks and pressed a soft, reverent kiss to my forehead.

“You were a child. A victim of obsession and cruelty, nothing more. You are not guilty. You are not a murderer. You are an angel, pure and innocent. And now… now that you are with me again, I will never let you go. You are mine.”

I let out a harsh, broken laugh, feeling my soul splinter under the weight of truth and desire. A stranger had become the first person to make me feel safe, to make me believe I could survive without killing.

“I give up,” I whispered, leaning into him, resting my forehead against his chest. His hands tangled in my hair, drawing me closer, his chin resting atop my head. Despite everything, I felt—safety. Protection. Something I had never known before.

Finally, he stepped back slightly, giving me space, though his burning gaze never left me.

“I’ll make dinner,” he said, his voice calm but commanding. “You can rest afterward. Work calls me away, but if you need me, come to my office.”

I nodded, wordless, the darkness of the evening pressing around us, and for the first time, I let myself feel… strangely at home.