Reborn, Its Time To Save My Family And.. My Enemy!
Chapter 192: You Hurt Me

Chapter 192: You Hurt Me

Olivia stopped struggling—but only because she was trembling too hard to keep fighting. Her fists, once curled in defiance, now pressed against Damon’s chest as if to push away the very pain clawing at her soul.

"You did hurt me," she whispered hoarsely,

Damon held her tightly, but he didn’t try to justify himself anymore. He just breathed in the scent of her hair, the weight of her shaking in his arms, and realized that silence—his silence—had cost more than he ever imagined.

"I never saw you as a thing," he said quietly. "You weren’t a secret I wanted to uncover—you were the only thing in my life that ever felt real. I loved you then... I love you now, even if you never believe it again."

"I don’t trust you," she snarled, shoving at his chest again. "Let me go, Damon!"

But he didn’t loosen his grip.

"I won’t," he whispered, voice rough. "Even if you hate me, I won’t let you push me away. Not like this."

"I said let go!" she screamed.

And then it happened.

Damon gasped sharply, his body convulsing in a jolt of pain that seemed to strike from within. His arms released her. His knees buckled. In a breathless second, he collapsed to the ground at her feet, one hand braced against the floor, the other clutching at his chest.

"Damon?" Olivia’s voice cracked. She didn’t move—couldn’t. She just stared at him, horrified.

His gray eyes looked up at her, wide with confusion and pain. "W-What... what did you do?"

"I—" She stepped back. Her hands were shaking. "I didn’t touch you..."

But she had imagined it.

In that moment, in her fury, she had wanted him to fall. To feel a fraction of what she felt. And he had.

Her breath came fast, uneven. She looked down at her hands like they belonged to someone else—like they were her mother’s. She could still feel the letter’s weight, still hear the warning: If the blood sings, let it...

"No... no no no," she whispered, stumbling back. "This isn’t real. It was just anger. It—"

Damon groaned, trying to push himself up, but the pain still lanced through his body.

"Olivia..." he called, weakly, confused, "What’s happening to you?"

But she was already backing away. Her heart thundered in terror, not of him—but of herself.

"I’m sorry," she whispered, eyes wide. "I didn’t mean to—I didn’t know—"

And then she ran.

Out of the room. Out of the house that once held her memories. Into the dusk that clung to the hills and trees like a shroud. Her feet flew over the stone path, her breath ragged as tears streaked down her cheeks.

Because now, she wasn’t just the girl reborn. She was the prophecy. And the blood had begun to sing. Branches clawed at Olivia’s arms as she stumbled through the forest, breath ragged, eyes wild. She just kept running, farther from the house, farther from Damon... and from whatever she had just done.

Until the trees grew denser. The night darker.

And she wasn’t alone anymore. Olivia froze when she heard the leave rustling. These woods were full of wolves. How could she forget it. But when she looked back, there were no beasts, there was a woman.

A woman stood between two gnarled trees, wrapped in a long, tattered cloak that billowed like shadow in the moonlight. Her face was hidden beneath the hood, but her presence was undeniable.

"I wondered when the blood would lead you here," the woman said softly. Her voice was neither kind nor cruel. "I have lingered here waiting for you for a long time. Come, my dear."

Olivia stepped back. "Who are you?"

"A sister," the woman said. "From the same line as your mother. We were her coven, once. But she left us."

The word hit Olivia like ice water.

"You’re lying," she whispered. "My mother... she wasn’t..."

"She was," the woman said gently. "She left us for a man who claimed her heart. We let her go. It was her choice. But she was warned." The woman took a step forward, and though she never touched Olivia, something shifted in the air like the tress and shadows were bowing to her presence.

"She chose to live among humans. Among nobles who feared what they couldn’t control. That choice cost your father his life." she could feel a trace of pity in the woman’s voice but not the pain one feel after the death of her loved ones. "She did not listen to us. You should."

Olivia’s heart twisted.

"Come with me, Olivia. You would get all the answers without lies. Without betrayals, you have done enough for them. It is time that you let go." she extended her again but Olivia did not take it.

"I do not trust you. I am not coming with you." the woman stopped and then she laughed, a voice so melodious that trees swung with her.

"Yet you feel the connection between us in your blood." The woman raised a pale, gloved hand and held out a small piece of parchment folded once, sealed with a red wax symbol Olivia didn’t recognize.

"If you ever want the truth, not the version left in books or twisted by grief, come here." She placed the paper on a rock between them. "But remember this, child: you cannot belong to both worlds."

Olivia’s lips parted, a protest on her tongue. "I don’t want your truth."

The woman tilted her head slightly. "You will. When the choice costs you more than your family."

The shadows shifted again, curling around the woman’s feet. "Your mother believed she could defy fate. She loved a man. And he died. You... love a man too, don’t you?"

Olivia’s fists clenched.

The woman smiled, though her face remained hidden. "Be careful, Olivia. The Red Moon rises again. If you cling to the human world... Damon may fall next."

Before Olivia could answer, the woman turned and vanished into the dark. No sound, no trail. Just the cold night wind pressing against her skin—and the folded parchment resting silently on the stone.

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