Selina could still hear the words echoing in her mind.
"Temporal inheritance."
The phrase unsettled something deep inside her.
Not because she fully understood it.
Because part of her already felt connected to it somehow.
Seven timelines.
Seven deaths.
Fragments of memory returning out of order.
Lucian remembering previous outcomes.
None of it felt impossible anymore.
The room remained quiet for several minutes after their conversation ended.
Neither of them spoke immediately.
Outside the glass windows, the city had disappeared beneath heavy rain.
Lightning flashed faintly across the distant skyline.
And suddenly—
Selina remembered another fragment.
Rain.
Always rain.
As if every important memory in her life began beneath storms.
Lucian finally broke the silence.
"We leave in thirty minutes."
Selina looked up slowly.
"For the estate."
"Yes."
Her chest tightened faintly.
Returning there felt different now.
Not like going home.
Like stepping into a grave someone carefully preserved for years.
Selina stood quietly and walked toward the large mirror near the hallway entrance.
For a moment—
she barely recognized herself.
Not physically.
But the expression in her eyes.
She no longer looked like the woman desperately trying to earn affection from people who ignored her existence.
Something colder had begun forming beneath her calmness.
Not cruelty.
Awareness.
Lucian watched her reflection from behind.
"You're thinking too much."
Selina let out a faint breath.
"My entire life changed in less than twenty-four hours."
"That's fair."
The unexpected answer almost made her smile slightly.
Almost.
She turned toward him.
"When this is over…"
Lucian's silver eyes held hers steadily.
"It won't be over soon."
That honesty again.
Always honest in the worst ways.
Selina crossed her arms lightly.
"You really know how to comfort people."
A faint pause followed.
Then unexpectedly—
Lucian stepped closer.
Close enough that she could see the subtle exhaustion beneath his composed expression.
"I stopped trying to comfort you after the third timeline."
The words hit her harder than expected.
Selina stared at him.
Lucian looked away briefly before continuing.
"In every previous outcome, I tried protecting you gently."
A pause.
"It failed."
The quiet guilt in his voice tightened something painfully inside her chest.
Because suddenly—
she understood something clearly.
Lucian didn't carry obsession alone.
He carried failure.
Seven versions of failure.
Seven versions of losing her.
Selina looked down briefly.
"You remember everything, don't you?"
"Yes."
"Every timeline?"
"Yes."
Silence filled the space between them again.
Selina tried imagining what that must feel like.
Watching someone die repeatedly while remembering every detail afterward.
No wonder something inside him felt broken beneath the calmness.
Lucian suddenly spoke again.
"The first timeline was the worst."
Her attention lifted immediately.
"Why?"
A shadow crossed his expression briefly.
"Because you trusted everyone."
The answer settled heavily between them.
Selina looked away slowly.
That version of herself already felt painfully distant now.
Naive.
Lonely.
Always hoping love would eventually become enough.
Lucian moved toward the desk and picked up a small black case.
Inside rested a silver handgun.
Selina's eyes widened slightly.
"You carry that regularly?"
"Yes."
He checked the weapon calmly before placing it back inside the case.
Then he looked at her directly.
"And tonight you stay beside me at all times."
Her chest tightened faintly at the seriousness in his tone.
"You think it'll become dangerous immediately."
Lucian's answer came without hesitation.
"Yes."
Lightning flashed outside again.
The office briefly illuminated in pale white light.
Then suddenly—
another memory struck her violently.
Not fragmented this time.
Clear.
A child's voice crying.
A man shouting.
Gunfire echoing underground.
Selina staggered backward sharply.
Lucian reached her immediately.
"Selina."
Her breathing became uneven.
She pressed a hand against her temple as the memory forced itself forward.
Dark stone walls.
A woman kneeling in front of her.
Beautiful dark eyes filled with panic.
Her mother.
This time Selina knew instinctively.
The woman grabbed her shoulders tightly and whispered—
"No matter what happens, never say your real name."
Selina inhaled sharply.
Another flash.
A silver crest pressed into her tiny hands.
Black thorns carved around a strange symbol she didn't recognize.
Then—
a loud explosion.
Screaming.
Blood.
Selina gasped softly as the memory vanished.
Lucian steadied her immediately.
"What did you see?"
Her heartbeat pounded painfully.
"My mother."
Lucian's expression sharpened instantly.
Selina looked at him slowly.
"She knew they were coming."
A heavy silence followed.
Selina swallowed faintly.
"She hid me before the attack."
Lucian's jaw tightened slightly.
"What else?"
Selina closed her eyes briefly.
"There was a crest."
"A family crest?"
She nodded slowly.
"Black thorns surrounding some kind of symbol."
Lucian became completely still.
That reaction alone made her chest tighten.
"You know it."
Lucian looked at her carefully.
"The Blackthorn crest disappeared after the massacre."
Selina frowned slightly.
"What symbol was in the center?"
Lucian hesitated.
Then quietly—
"A clock."
The room went silent.
Selina's pulse slowed painfully.
A clock.
Temporal inheritance.
Timelines.
Suddenly everything connected too perfectly.
Lucian continued quietly.
"The Blackthorn family was rumored to study time-related cognitive transfer decades ago."
Selina stared at him.
"That sounds impossible."
"So did remembering seven lifetimes."
Silence.
She hated when he answered like that.
Because he was right.
Lucian stepped closer again.
"There were theories the Blackthorn bloodline carried unusual neurological adaptability."
Selina blinked slowly.
"That sounds dangerously close to scientific experimentation."
"It probably was."
The bluntness of the answer unsettled her again.
Before she could respond—
Lucian's phone vibrated sharply.
He answered immediately.
A short conversation followed.
Very short.
Too short.
Then he ended the call slowly.
Selina immediately noticed the change in his expression.
"What happened?"
Lucian looked directly at her.
"My team confirmed something beneath the east wing."
Her pulse slowed.
"What?"
He held her gaze steadily before answering.
"The underground structure beneath the Vale estate predates the Vale family entirely."
Silence.
Selina's heartbeat stumbled once.
Lucian continued quietly.
"The original property registration belongs to the Blackthorn estate."
The room became completely still.
And suddenly—
the mansion she spent her whole life inside no longer felt borrowed.
It felt stolen.