Bound by fate:the vampire CEO's bride

Chapter 12: Shadows of the Past

Amara couldn't take her eyes off the words etched into the dirt, "The choice is hers." They glowed with a ghostly light under the moonlight, hauntingly reminding her that her life no longer belonged to her.

Amara," Damien's voice pulled her from the trance, his tone edged with urgency. In an instant, he reached her side, his hands clamping onto her shoulders as if trying to anchor her. "I told you to stay inside."

"I couldn't," she whispered, her voice trembling. Her gaze flicked back to the carved message. "What does it mean? What choice?

Damien exhaled sharply, his jaw clenching. "I don't know yet. But I won't let them drag you into this."

"They already have," she shot back, her voice rising despite the fear coiling in her chest. "They knew my name, Damien. They knew where to find me. How am I supposed to feel safe when they're clearly watching us?

He didn't say anything immediately; he just darkened, his eyes staring ominously at the message. Finally, he turned and said, "We leave. Tonight."

She felt her stomach drop. "Leave? Where would we even go?"

"Anywhere they won't be able to find us," Damien replied strongly, tightening his grip on her shoulders. "I will not let them harm you, Amara. You are too special to me.

The fervor in his voice sent her heart stuttering, but it also left her reeling. How had her life spiralled so completely out of control? Less than a month ago, she'd lived a quiet, predictable life. Now, she was tangled in a web of danger and secrets she didn't fully understand.

She was quiet as Damien led her back into the house. Running wouldn't solve anything; these people seemed to have eyes everywhere, whoever they were. What if leaving only made them more determined to come after her?

Inside, Damien paced the living room. The agitated movements stopped as suddenly as they had started when he turned to her with a frustrated yet determined expression.

"There's something I need to tell you," he said finally, his voice low. "Something I should've told you from the start."

Amara crossed her arms, bracing herself. "I'm listening."

He hesitated; his eyes, searching hers as if to estimate whether she could handle what he would say, finally locked onto hers. Then he took a deep breath and said, "The people after me… they're part of a group I used to work with. A group that doesn't just deal in power-they thrive on control. They don't care who they hurt as long as they get what they want."

And what do they want?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

He hesitated again, his jaw clenching. "Me. But now… they'll use you to get to me. They think you're my weakness."

Amara's breath hitched, her heart pounding in her chest. "Why would they think that?"

"Because they're right," he admitted, his voice raw. "You are my weakness, Amara. And that's why I need to keep you safe-no matter what.

The ache in his voice twisted something in her heart, yet simultaneously it had left her more confused than ever. How could she be his weakness when she barely knew what he was to her?

The tension hanging in the air was palpable; one could've cut it with a knife. That is, until a ringing phone pierced the air. Damien drew his phone from his pocket, his face hardening as he answered.

"What is it?" he growled into the receiver.

She watched his face further darken, his free hand clenching into a fist. Whatever he was hearing, it wasn't good.

"I'll handle it," he snapped, ending the call in the next second.

"What's going on?" she asked, her anxiety instantly spiking.

Damien turned to her, an etched scowl on his face. "They've made their next move."

Her stomach did a somersault. "What do you mean?"

"They've left a message at one of my properties. It's a warning-and a challenge.

Amara's throat went rigid. "What kind of message?"

His gaze had caught hers, the turmoil within them more powerful than a hurricane. "A mark. One that indicates that they give us till nightfall to make a choice as to whether we join in their game. or reap the consequences.

Her blood became ice. "And if we don't join this. game?"

"They'll be after you," Damien said matter-of-factly. "And they won't give up 'til they get you".

The weight of his words was a physical force that pressed upon her. She sank onto the couch, racing thoughts coursing through her mind.

"There must be another way," she said in despair. "We just can't sit and let them decide the course of what's to happen from now on."

Damien crouched before her, hands laid over hers. "We will not. But, Amara, you must learn to trust me. Whatever happens, I'll protect you."

She stared at him, her eyes welling up. "And who's going to protect you?"

For a moment, he didn't say a word. Then, with a soft, almost bitter smile, he said, "That's not your burden to bear."

The gentleness in his voice broke something inside her, and before she could argue, a loud crash from outside made them both jump.

In an instant, Damien leapt to his feet, tense, every fiber in his body on high alert. He gestured for Amara to stay put, but she reached out and grasped his arm, struggling with a mix of fear and determination.

"I'm coming with you," she said resolutely.

"Amara—"

"No," she cut him off. "I'm not staying behind while you face whatever's out there alone."

He stared at her for a long silent moment, his expression torn. Finally, he nodded, though clear reluctance showed on his features. "Stay close to me," he said.

She followed him to the door, her heart bucking against her ribs as he pulled it open, then stepped aside for her. Outside, the night was eerily quiet; the moon showered the garden with unnatural brightness.

"What was that sound?" Amara whispered as she scanned the surroundings skittishly.

Damien didn't reply, his eyes still holding on to the shadows. Then, when she had all but thought they'd imagined it, a figure emerged into the dim light.

He was the same man as before: cold in his smile and sending her heart racing. But this time, he wasn't alone.

Two more figures materialized beside him, their faces similarly threatening. And in his hand was the one thing that really could chill Amara's blood: a photograph of her, taken from outside the house.

"You didn't think we'd make it that easy, did you?" the man sneered.

Damien stood protectively in front of her, his whole body tense. "You're even more delusional than I thought if you believe I'll allow you to touch her.

The man chuckled, the sound low and chilling. "Oh, we don't need to hurt her. Not yet, anyway. But make no mistake, Damien-this game is just beginning."

Before Damien could say anything, the man tossed the photograph at their feet. Amara's stomach twisted at the message scrawled across it in red ink: "Time's up."

Amara gasped as the men disappeared into the shadows, their laughter echoing in the night. Damien bent to pick up the photograph, his expression hard as stone. But when he turned it over, his face paled. On the back was a single word that made her heart stop: "Choose."