Love Across Lifetimes, One Lifetime of Regret

Elysia’s POV

As long as Kaelen Nightfall got what he desired, I would've died a thousand deaths without regret.

That was the bitter truth I had come to accept.

No matter the pain, no matter the depth of my devotion, I was never enough for him.

And so now, in this life, I no longer pray for his love.

I no longer beg fate to turn in my favor.

To truly rewrite destiny, three events must be undone:

One: the signing of the marriage contract.

Two: the soul-binding ceremony.

Three: Lillian's death.

I had only managed to change one. But one was a beginning.

...

By the time I returned to the Underworld, Kaelen was already there, waiting at the edge of the Crossing Bridge. He stood still as stone, leaned against the cold railing, cloaked in shadows that clung to him like loyal spirits. Even the wind dared not touch him.

Kaelen turned as I approached, eyes narrowing. That same familiar irritated look, as though my very presence was a burden he was forced to bear.

Then, without a word, he reached for my hand.

For a heartbeat, I hesitated. The part of me that once longed for Kaelen's touch still remembered the warmth. But I had no intention of giving him that satisfaction now.

I took a quiet step back.

"Until the contract is signed," I said, my voice soft but unwavering, "we shouldn't meet in private. And we most certainly shouldn't hold hands."

Kaelen scoffed, the sound sharp as splintered ice. "If I weren't doing this to keep Emperor Alistair off my back, I wouldn't touch you at all."

Then came the dry, biting laugh. "You used to cling to me like your life depended on it. What's this now, huh? Playing hard to get now, Elysia?"

Ah, yes. The old Kaelen. Brutal honesty cloaked in cruelty.

But this time, I didn't flinch.

Once, I forced him to settle for me. I begged for his attention and endured a thousand little humiliations to stay by his side.

Not anymore.

I offered him a smile, gentle on the surface but hollow beneath.

"I'm simply following tradition," I said.

Kaelen didn't answer. Just gave a derisive snort and dropped his hand. Still, he kept me close, walking beside me as if I were something valuable he didn't yet want to part with.

But I knew better. I knew where Kaelen's heart still lived.

If I didn't—if I were still that naïve girl from the past—I might've mistaken his nearness for affection. I might've let hope rise again.

But I wasn't her anymore. And this time, I would not be the one left in ruins.

...

It was the Festival of Souls.

On this sacred day, the candles of the living world drifted down the River of Lost Memories, their wicks flickering softly as they floated along the current. Each candle carried a prayer and whispers of hope for peace in the next life, a gentle offering to the unknown.

Countless souls lined the riverbank, their faces etched with quiet longing, their hands clasped in silent prayer. The air was heavy with stillness as if the world itself held its breath in reverence.

"If the wind understands you, it won't hurt you."

I read the words etched into the flickering flame, and for a brief moment, time seemed to be still. The familiar phrase struck deep, a painful tug in my chest.

In that instant, I was pulled back. Back to that bitter life I had lived before.

I remembered the snow-covered plum grove where I had wandered, weak and ill. For weeks, I had teetered on the edge of death, unable to escape its grasp.

Kaelen, reborn as a proud warrior, had been left broken after the battle. His legs, crippled, could no longer carry him, but that hadn't stopped him. He crawled up the Sacred Steps of the Watcher's Keep, dragging himself with every ounce of strength to light a candle of prayer for me.

The words were written on that candle, too.

The same words.

The memory came rushing back, vivid and real, as if it had happened only yesterday. My breath caught, and I had to blink away the mist gathering in my eyes. The pain from that life—that moment—was still fresh, a wound that had never truly healed.

After we returned to the Underworld, I asked him, so naïve, so hopeful, if he would light another candle for me.

But Kaelen had buried himself in his duties, dismissing me with a cold sneer.

"You believe in mortal rituals?" he scoffed. "You have everything. What more do you need to pray for?"

"Trials are just that—trials," he added, his tone laced with disdain. "You take it too seriously."

It was I who had taken it too seriously.

The prayer. The ritual. All of it. It had been my weakness, my desperate hope. I had foolishly believed, for far too long, that somehow, he might come to love me. But he never did.

Now, as I stared at the candle before me, its glow just as bright as it had been back then, I felt nothing but cold.

I glanced at Kaelen, his face as unreadable as always. He held his candle, his eyes distant, emotionless.

"Just this once," he said, his voice flat, uninterested. "I don't have time for your past recollections."

I reached for the candle, my fingers trembling as I took it from his hand. Moisture threatened my eyes, but I blinked it away, determined to remain composed.

He was always like this, offering disappointment veiled in the guise of fleeting, hollow kindness.

His gestures of small acts of compassion did nothing but twist the knife deeper because I knew they weren't for me.

They never had been. They were for Lillian.

Kaelen never loved me—not the way I had always hoped. Yet somehow, he let me follow him through countless lives, and he let me be his wife in every one of them.

We had once been lovers, young hearts bound by passion, caught in the whirlwind of love and death.

We had been husband and wife in every form love could take: childhood sweethearts, destined partners, soulmates who were torn apart and reunited time and time again.

We had lived the stories others only dreamed of.

He had pulled me from fire, from water, from sword, and from storm. And in the end, he gave up his life beneath the Execution Platform, saving mine.

Kaelen Nightfall was a good man.

But he was never my man.

The warmth of his touch faded from my fingertips as quickly as it had come.

I knew, deep down, that no matter how many times I pleaded with the stars, fate would never rewrite itself for me.

Still, I took the candle and placed it gently into the river, my voice soft like a whisper as though I were begging for mercy.

“Just this once.”

The current held the candle for only a moment before the flow of the stream rushed in, snuffing it out and pulling it beneath the water's surface.

Right then, a servant spirit came in the wind.

She bowed and said, "Miss Lillian's flower has withered. She's distraught, my lord."

Without a moment's hesitation, Kaelen turned and walked away, his back as cold and distant as stone.

"Lillian loved that peony the most. She must be devastated," he said, his voice flat and almost detached. I need to comfort her. You can go back first, Elysia. I'll see you at the bonding ceremony tomorrow."

"Okay," I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper.

I started to walk away, the weight of the moment pressing heavily on me, but before I could even take more than a few steps, he grabbed my arm, his fingers tightening around my wrist.

His gaze was one of surprise and confusion, as though my behavior didn't make sense to him. "Yesterday, you were furious at Lillian for just speaking to me. You nearly tore the Underworld apart. Now, you're suddenly so agreeable?"

Before I could respond, he caught on, his expression shifting to one of realization. "Of course. You're just trying to play the dutiful wife before the wedding, aren't you?"

Without waiting for a reply, he turned and walked off with the maid, leaving me standing there, the silence deafening in his wake. The sting of his words hit me like a thousand arrows. My heart cracked, and before I even knew it, tears of bitter disappointment slid down my cheeks, quiet and unbidden.

How could any woman willingly share her husband with another?

How could I accept this cruel arrangement that had been thrust upon me?

Lillian, with her pretentious humility, had claimed she didn't care about the title or status, but her actions told a different story. She came at me again and again, each provocation a reminder of how she was forcing me to relinquish my place beside him, to bow down to her.

"You're no longer a goddess," she had sneered at me. "What right do you have to stand beside Kaelen?"