The night she met him, the sky was wrong.
Not empty.
Not cloudy.
Just... wrong.
The stars flickered like dying candles, trembling as if something enormous was breathing beneath them. The moon hung low and swollen, red at the edges like it had been crying.
And in the center of the abandoned courtyard, surrounded by broken pillars and creeping vines, stood the man who would end the world for her.
He didn't look human. Not at first. He stood too still. Too quiet. Too aware.
His coat fluttered even though there was no wind. His eyes glowed faintly, like embers buried under ash. And the air around him felt charged like the moment before lightning strikes. She should have run. Instead, she stepped closer.
"Are you the one they warned me about?" she asked, her voice steadier than she felt. He tilted his head, studying her like she was the first real thing he'd ever seen.
"They warned you about me," he murmured, "but they didn't tell you the truth."
"What truth?"
"That you were made for me." The words hit her like a blow soft, devastating, inevitable. She swallowed.
"I don't even know your name. " He smiled, slow and dangerous.
"Names are for mortals."
"Then what are you?" His eyes darkened.
"Yours."
The courtyard seemed to exhale around them, vines curling, stone groaning, shadows bending toward him like worshippers. She took a step back. He took a step forward. And the world shifted. A drop hit the ground between them. Dark. Thick. Red. Her breath caught. "Is that..."
"Not human blood," he said softly. "Not anymore."
More drops fell, slow and rhythmic, like the sky itself was bleeding. They splattered across the stone, blooming like roses. She stared upward. Holding herits breath.
"What's happening?" she whispered. He didn't look away from her.
"You came too close."
"To what?"
"To me."
The vines around the courtyard twisted violently, thorns bursting from their stems. The air grew colder, sharper, tasting like iron. She felt it then something ancient, something hungry coiling around her ribs.
"You're doing this," she breathed. He didn't deny it.
"I told you," he said, stepping closer, "I am not human. And you... you are the only thing that keeps me from tearing this world apart." Her pulse hammered.
"Why me?" He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face with a touch that was almost reverent.
"Because you are the only thing I want." The moon dripped another crimson tear. She had heard the stories. A man born of shadow. A heart forged in ruin. A creature who would bring the end of all things if he ever chose someone. Not love. Not devotion. Not desire. Choice.
The prophecy said:
"When he chooses, the world ends."
She had always assumed it was metaphorical. Now she wasn't so sure.
"You're the one from the legends," she whispered. He laughed—quiet, bitter, beautiful.
"Legends are just warnings people ignore."
YOU ARE READING
The Red Veil
Romance"You cant ever run from me angel," he said to me. Then he turned to walk out of the room and said "No need to even try because if you do I will always find you again."
