《Vow And Vengeance》 ? ????. Prologue The first sign of death is the cold. Vera knows that. She feels it crawling down her spine as the wind howled through the empty street, as shadows stretched too far, too wrong. They are here. Watching. Waiting. Her footsteps echo in the silence, too loud, too frantic. Then, there''s a snap, like a spark, and then comes the stillness. The cold breath on her neck sent chills down her spine, but when she turned, there was nothing there. "Ugh. These assholes..." Somewhere, someone laughs. A laugh she always hear everytime shit''s about to go down. Five shadows looms in the distance, their words just barely out of earshot. "You know what we want to do," a voice murmurs. She could swear she hear the sardonic in those words. ??? ????¡¤? ??? ?¡ï? ????¡¤???? ??? Her breath comes in ragged gasps as she sprints, her heart pounding like a drum in her chest. She couldn¡¯t look back. She couldn¡¯t risk it. She couldn''t lose to them that easily after everything she went through to survive them. She swerves around into an alley, barely avoiding a pile of discarded crates, her sandals skidding on the wet pavement. Another sharp turn. A dead-end. A cold hand brushes her shoulder. Spinning around, but there is no one, except, well... The alleyway had shifted. The walls, the shadows, they had closed in around her. The whispers grew louder, more urgent. "So eager for me, huh?" I have to keep going, but where do I go, and how do I even pass them? One by one, they circles, forming a tightening ring around her. SHIT! Vera, think! Think, Vera. MOVE. Focus. She had to focus. Her heartbeat pounded against her ribs, loud enough to deafen her. Inhale. Exhale. The air felt too thick, too heavy, like she was moving through water. One of them reaches out, its hand long and twisted, translucent skin stretched tight over bony fingers. Vera flinched, but the figure only brushed against her. ¡°You can¡¯t escape now,¡± it whispers. But it isn''t just its voice. It was hers. Distorted, layered, echoing. Like a thousand versions of herself whispering from the void. Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. Its body stretches unnaturally, the skin distorts and contorts. The face, once formless, twisted into something grotesque. Eyes that weren''t eyes become bloody empty sockets, opening widely. Then the mouth. It split, revealing broken teeth, some of them glinting with fresh blood. The fingers twitches near her eyes, and as it moved, the blood poured from its mouth, dripping down its chest and onto the wet pavement. This isn¡¯t the first time. For a split second, she isn¡¯t in the alley. She¡¯s somewhere else. Somewhere worse. A scream. Not hers. A hand, limp in a pool of red. No. No. Not now. She blinks, and she¡¯s back. Her eyes locked with the creature''s. Vera''s body froze. Oh, I''m so fucked. "My last words. You''re uglier than a botched surgery." It lurches forward faster than she could react, its body filling her vision. The mouth open again, ready to swallow her head. Its mouth is only a few centimeters away from her face, the stench of decay and blood filling her lungs. Time slows. And something shifts, again. She couldn¡¯t see it, couldn¡¯t explain it, but she feels it. The second the creature¡¯s jaws hit the invisible wall, a ripple shot through the air. A deep, resonant sound¡ªlike a bell tolling underwater. The creature screeched, yanking its head back as if it had been electrocuted. Smoke curled from its mouth. Vera''s hands instinctively reaching out to touch the invisible wall. It is there, cold against her skin. What the hell is this? The creature lunges again, its clawed hands battering against the barrier, but every hit is deflected. What if I punch the bastards? Her breath hitches. If the shield breaks, she dies.No last words. No dramatic escape. Just another forgotten corpse in a dark alley. Is that it? Is this how it ends? No. Fuck that. If she is going down, she is taking at least one of these bastards with her. In one swift motion, she balls her hand into a tight fist and swings it forward with all the strength she could muster. The creature¡¯s head snaps back, its mouth opening in a howl of pain. Blood splattered across the air, its disfigured face twisting in disbelief. Like it had expected her to scream, not fight. "What are you?" it rasps, voice twisting between echoes. "Annoyed," Vera shot back. And then, just as suddenly as it appeared, the creature retreated, slinking back into the darkness. What just happened? ??? ????¡¤? ??? ?¡ï? ????¡¤???? ??? His POV: He watched from the shadows, every one of her movements. It was as if the world had slowed down just for him to watch this moment. She didn''t know he was there, didn''t even seem to feel his gaze on her. Her back was turned, too busy panicking by what she believed to be her impending doom to notice his presence lurking just a few meters beyond her reach. She is different. He¡¯d seen countless of others crumble in the face of the supernaturals, but not her. Not like this. He had watched countless humans break. Fear was predictable. Fear was easy. But she? She gritted her teeth, threw a punch, and smirked at death like it was an old friend. Interesting. He watched her react, watching as the creatures closed in on her. It''s not time yet. The shield appeared around her. It didn¡¯t surprise him. No, this was a game, his game. She isn''t meant to die tonight. Not yet. Not until... "Until what?" He shook his head at the thought. The others may have their plans, but his were different. His were slow, careful. He let her fight for now. Let her think she has a choice. ? ????. Chapter 1 The cafe smells like freshly brewed coffee and vanilla pastries, the kind of scent that made it easy to pretend the world isn''t an absolute disaster half the time. Vera sits at her usual spot near the window, hunched over her laptop. The church across the street stood tall and silent, it''s presence is a quiet reassurance. This place had become her safe zone. Ever since the ghosts started coming for her, she''d learned and was taught to stick close to places they avoided, churches, temples, anything holy. And this cafe? It is perfect. The pastries are good, the Wi-Fi doesn''t suck, and most importantly, the ghosts never followed her here, only watching. But today is... different. Not a single shadow lurking in the reflection of the cafe''s glass door. No whispery figures in the corners. No chills running down her spine. ??? ????¡¤? ??? ?¡ï? ????¡¤???? ??? "Mind if I sit here?" She blinks, looking up. Tall. Dark hair. Chiseled features that looked like they belonged in a Renaissance painting. His expression was easygoing. His eyes, though, golden and unreadable. Vera glances around. The cafe is half-empty, plenty of other seats open. Suspicious. "You don''t need to sit here," she pointed out. "True. But I want to." She exhales through her nose, debating whether she has the energy for human interaction today. "Fine. Whatever," she muttered, shifting her laptop slightly to give herself more space. He sits across from her, setting down a black coffee. No sugar, no milk. Just straight-up bitterness. Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. Fitting. "What''re you working on?" he asked casually, nodding at her screen. "Psych assignment," she said, eyeing him warily. "Why?" "Just curious." He took a sip of his coffee, watching her over the rim of his cup. "You''re here a lot." Vera frowned. "And you know that because...?" "Because I''m here a lot, too." He tilted his head, like he was studying her reaction. "Guess we just never noticed each other." Liar. She didn''t say it out loud, but something about him doesn''t add up. He is too smooth, too intentional for a guy who just happened to exist in the same space as her. And the ghosts? Still nowhere in sight. Not even lingering outside. She taps her fingers against the keyboard. I should be relieved. I should be throwing a mental celebration because for the first time in forever, I¡¯m not being watched, whispered to, stalked by things that don¡¯t have the decency to stay dead. But I¡¯m not. Because ghosts don¡¯t just disappear. They don¡¯t take vacations. Vera squints at the guy across from her, stirring her hot coffee with the straw as she tries to get a read on him. He is too calm. Too smooth. Why is he so calm? Most guys would¡¯ve at least looked a little awkward after being called out. But no. Mr. Broody over here is just sitting there, drinking his black coffee like some kind of fucking antihero in a noir film. She isn''t stupid. What the hell do I do? Tell him to fuck off just because he''s a little too friendly? It wasn''t like he actually done anything sketchy. She exhales through her nose and leans back in her chair, deciding to brush it off. For now. "So, do you go to uni, or are you one of those creeps who just hangs out in cafes looking mysterious?" she asked, raising a brow. He let out a quiet chuckle. "Bit of both." Vera rolls her eyes. Fucking figures. Before she could come up with a snarky response, a familiar voice cut in. "There you are, bitch! I''ve been looking for you everywhere." Vera turns her head just as Connielia dropped into the seat beside her, tossing her bag onto the table like she owned the place. Mr. Whatever-his-name-is, glances at Connielia with no interest and said nothing. Vera, on the other hand, let out an exaggerated sigh. "Jesus, Connie. You act like I went missing or something." "You have been ignoring my texts," Connielia shot back, then gave a pointed look at the guy across from them. "And who''s this?" Vera hesitated for half a second before realizing. Shit. I don''t even know his name. Great. Fantastic. I let a complete stranger sit with me and I didn¡¯t even think to ask for his name. Now I look like an idiot, it''s like I invited him here on purpose. And the way he¡¯s smiling? Yeah, he knows exactly what he¡¯s doing. Bastard. ??? ????¡¤? ??? ?¡ï? ????¡¤???? ??? His POV : She doesn''t trust him. Good. Vera isn''t the type to get swept up just because someone smiled at her the right way. He likes that about her. Doesn''t change the fact that he has a job to do. He leans back in his chair, fingers wrapping loosely around his coffee cup, watching the way she narrowed her eyes at him between sips of her drink. Then her friend showed up. Loud, bold, dropping into the seat next to her like it''s not the first time. He didn''t react, just tilted his head slightly as the girl, Connielia, apparently, gave him a once-over, all curiosity and mild hostility. "And who''s this?" Vera hesitated. She doesn''t know my name. Perfect. He let a small, amused smile touch his lips. "Oh? She hasn''t mentioned me?" "We literally just met." Vera, obviously unimpressed. "Funny. I feel like I¡¯ve known you much longer." Vera felt it then. A flicker of something cold, just for a second, running down her spine. Not a ghost. Not a chill from the AC. Something else. She ignored it. Connielia''s eyes flicked between them, then back to him. "Uh-huh. And?" "And I thought to introduce myself." ? ????. Chapter 2 Vera watches as he leans back, completely unbothered, like he had all the time in the world. His golden eyes flicks to Connielia, amusement barely there, but definitely present. "I thought to introduce myself," he repeated smoothly. Connielia, never one for patience, raised an eyebrow. "And?" The guy smirked, slow and deliberate. "And... I haven''t." Oh, for fuck''s sake. Vera resisted the urge to groan. Why does she always attract the cryptic ones? I should leave. I should get up, walk out, and pretend this entire thing never happened. But do I? No. Because apparently, I have zero self-preservation instincts. Connielia, however, has no such restraint. "Great. A walking riddle. Love that," she deadpanned, turning back to Vera. "Seriously, who is this?" Vera''s fingers tightens around her coffee cup. Something isn''t right. Everything in her gut scream that much. But saying it out loud? Acknowledging it? That made it real. So she keeps quiet. Keep sipping her coffee like the world isn''t shifting around her in way she don''t understand. Vera sighs, stirring her now lukewarm coffee with the straw. "No clue. He just sat down and starts acting all mysterious." I''m either overthinking this, or I''m about to be a dumbass who ignores all the red flags and gets murdered in a coffee shop. "That''s a red flag," Connielia declared immediately. The guy chuckles, tapping a finger against his coffee cup. "Harsh." "I call it like I see it," Connielia shot back. "And what I see is a guy who could''ve picked literally any other table but decided to be weird instead." This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Vera bites back a grin. This is why Connielia is her favourite. The guy, unfazed as ever, took another slow sip of his coffee before finally relenting. "Aurelius." Vera blinked. "Huh?" "My name." He set his cup down. "Since you are so eager to know." Connielia snorted. "Yeah, pretty sure nobody was dying to know." Aurelius only shrugs. "Still. Now you do." Vera rolls her eyes. Aurelius. It sounded old. And then there is the fact that the ghosts are still nowhere in sight. It is unsettling. Not that she wanted them to show up, but it feels wrong for them to just... vanish. "Something wrong?" Vera hesitates. Should she say it? That for the first time in years, she isn''t being followed by flickering shadows, even outside the cafe? That the creeping, suffocating weight of their presence had lifted the moment he walked in? That would sound paranoid as hell. So she shrugs instead, taking another sip of her coffee. "Nope." Aurelius watches her for a moment longer before looking away. Vera ignored the way her pulse kicked up at the look in his eyes. Of course he''s attractive. Because the universe is cruel like that. Because if I''m going to be hunted, haunted, and dragged into whatever the hell this situation is, then why not throw in a guy who looks like sin in a leather jacket? It''s unfair, really. She hates that his voice sound like the kind of thing you got lost in. Deep, smooth, with just enough roughness to make it unfair. Absolutely fucking unfair. ??? ????¡¤? ??? ?¡ï? ????¡¤???? ??? Aurelius'' POV : Interesting. She lied. Aurelius don''t blame her. If he is in her position, haunted, paranoid, watching shadows creeping at the edges of her vision, he wouldn''t trust a stranger either. Especially not someone like him. He drums his fingers against his coffee cup, watching as Vera and Connielia bickering like this is just another normal day. Like Vera isn''t a walking target. Like something isn''t hunting her for years. She has no idea how close she come to slipping through the cracks. The ghosts, they should be here. He knows their patterns, the way they latches onto a presence, gnawing at it like starving dogs. But today, they are absent. Because of him. And yet, she glares at me like I''m the problem. She glares at me like I''ve personally ruined her entire day. He could feel them. Not here, not physically, but lingering just beyond reach. Aurelius exhales quietly, shifting his gaze back to Vera. She doesn''t know it yet, but he is the reason she is still breathing. Connielia is still side-eyeing him, suspicion plain as day on her face. She is sharp in a way that had nothing to do with supernatural instincts. Just a girl who had learned, through trial and error, how to spot bullshit from a mile away. "Alright, Aurelius. What''s your deal?" He tilts his head slightly, pretending to consider. "What do you mean?" Connielia gave him a look. "You show up out of nowhere, sit at Vera''s table, and expect me to believe that''s just a coincidence?" Vera rolls her eyes. "Connie." "What? You think it''s normal?" Connielia shot back. "Because I don''t. Guy looks like he walked out of a gothic novel and smells like.. " she squinted, sniffing, "I don''t even know. Expensive cologne and bad decisions?" Aurelius'' fingers flex slightly against his cup, the only sign of irritation at being called out. Aurelius smirk. She''s not entirely wrong. "I like her," he said, taking another sip of his coffee. Connielia scoffed. "Yeah? I don''t like you." Vera groaned, dragging a hand down her face. "Jesus Christ. Can we not do this?" Aurelius just hummed, gaze flicking to the church across the street. The weight of its presence pressed against him, not enough to repel him, but enough to remind him he didn''t belong here. Not entirely, anyway. Vera follows his gaze, her expression unreadable. She knows something is off. Good. She should. People like her don''t get to survive long if they trust too easily. This isn''t over. Not even close.