Broken Bonds: The Rogue's Redemption-Chapter 18: Forgotten Promises

Cassian’s POV

"Stop lying!" I grabbed Original Lyanna by the shoulders before anyone could stop me. "I never killed you! I would remember killing someone!"

She didn’t move. Just smiled that terrible smile. "Would you? Tell me, Prince. Do you remember being born? Your first steps? No? Then why would you remember a life from three thousand years ago?"

"Because murder isn’t something you forget!" My dragon roared inside me, confused and angry. It recognized her scent—that same addictive smell that had drawn me to Modern Lyanna. My beast knew her, even if I didn’t.

"Let me help you remember." Original Lyanna put her hand on my chest, right over my heart.

Pain burst through me.

Images filled my mind like a dam breaking. Not memories—I couldn’t call them memories because they felt like someone else’s life. But they were mine.

I saw myself younger, maybe twenty-five, wearing old armor I’d never owned. I stood in a castle that didn’t exist anymore, talking to a girl with black hair and green eyes.

Her. A younger, happier form of Original Lyanna.

"I love you," Past-Me said, putting a ring on her finger. "When this war ends, we’ll marry properly. With rituals and witnesses."

"Promise?" Past-Her asked, touching her barely-showing belly. "You promise you won’t leave me and our baby?"

"I swear it on my dragon’s fire."

The image changed. Now I saw myself covered in blood, standing in a burning hall. Original Lyanna lay on the floor, her throat cut, her eyes looking at nothing. A tiny baby cried in the corner—a little girl with gold eyes.

Past-Me picked up that baby girl. "I’m sorry, Ember," Past-Me whispered. "Your mother betrayed our land. She was a spy. I had no choice."

The vision broke.

I stumbled backward, gasping. "No. That’s not real. You planted those pictures in my head!"

"Did I?" Original Lyanna’s voice was soft, dangerous. "Or did you finally remember what your soul buried to protect itself? You killed me, Cassian. You slit my throat because your advisors said I was a Shadow Kingdom spy. You picked your throne over our love."

"I would never—"

"You did." She stepped closer. "Want to know the truth? I was a spy. I was sent to charm you, to learn your kingdom’s secrets. But I fell in love for real. I got pregnant. I tried to stop watching." Her voice cracked. "It didn’t matter. When they found my letters home, you didn’t even let me explain."

Modern Lyanna made a coughing sound behind me. Kieran held her up as her legs gave out.

"The worst part?" Original Lyanna continued. "You kept our daughter. Raised her as yours. But the demon I called with my dying curse found her when she turned four. Possessed her. Made her suffer for your sins." She laughed bitterly. "And she’s been reincarnating ever since, possessed every lifetime, because you and I keep finding each other and making the same baby over and over."

My mind couldn’t process this. "If this is true, why don’t I remember?"

"Because your soul couldn’t handle the guilt." Morgana’s voice shook. "Dragon hearts are proud. When they do something terrible, they bury it deep. Reincarnate clean. But the dragon instinct remains—that’s why you recognized Lyanna’s soul instantly. Why you couldn’t let her go. You’ve been trying to fix your mistake for three thousand years."

"But I’m not him!" I roared. "I’m not whoever that monster was!"

"Aren’t you?" Original Lyanna turned her head. "You abandoned Modern Lyanna when it was politically convenient. Married Seraphine for your land. Sound familiar? You’re doing the same things, Prince. Making the same choices. Hurting the same soul."

The words hit like bullets. Because she was right. I had abandoned Lyanna when the union demanded it. I’d chosen my crown over her heart. "The cycle repeats," Morgana whispered. "Unless someone breaks it."

"How?" Kieran demanded. "How do we stop this?"

Original Lyanna smiled. "The Shadow King knows. That’s why he took Ember—our forever daughter, cursed by my dying breath. He wants to use her monster to control the cycle forever. Make you all his puppets."

"Then what does he want?" I asked desperately.

"Your life, obviously." She said it so casually. "The curse can only break if you die by your own choice. Willing risk. You offer yourself to save Ember, and the circle ends. The demon loses its hold. Our daughter finally goes free."

"No!" Modern Lyanna screamed. "There has to be another way!"

"There isn’t." Original Lyanna looked at her—her reincarnation—with something almost like sadness. "I’ve been trapped for three thousand years learning this curse. Trust me. I’ve looked for every option. There’s only one way to free Ember."

She turned back to me. "Cassian has to die. Permanently. No resurrection this time. Complete soul death."

The dungeon went silent except for Modern Lyanna’s quiet crying.

My dragon howled inside me. Not in fear—in recognition. This felt right somehow. Like paying a bill I’d always owed.

"If I do this," I said slowly, "Ember goes totally free? No more demon? No more curse?"

"Yes." Original Lyanna stepped closer, her face unreadable. "But here’s the catch—you won’t just die. Your entire soul line stops. Every future life. Every chance you might have had for happiness. You’ll be erased from existence itself."

"Cassian, no!" Modern Lyanna grabbed my arm. "You can’t! There has to be another way!"

I looked at her—really looked at her. This woman I’d loved and lost. This woman holding pieces of a soul I’d destroyed millennia ago.

"I’m sorry," I whispered. "For everything. For every lifetime I hurt you."

"Don’t do this," she begged. "Please. Ember needs her father!"

"She needs to be free." I pulled away gently. "After everything I’ve done—everything I’ve apparently done across lifetimes—this is the only way I can make it right."

Original Lyanna watched me with those old, knowing eyes. Then she reached up and touched my face with cold fingers.

"You owe me everything," she whispered. "Three thousand years of pain. Of being stuck. Of watching my daughter tortured over and over because of your choice." Her smile was terrible and sad. "So yes. Do this. Die. Pay your debt. Maybe then I can finally rest too."

Her touch burned like ice. And in that burning, I felt another memory rise.

Past-Me, standing over her body, whispering: "I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry."

Past-Me, holding baby Ember while she cried: "I’ll guard you. Always. I swear."

Past-Me, dying in some other lifetime, reaching for a different form of Lyanna: "Find me again. Please. Find me."

How many times had we done this? How many lives had I destroyed her? How many girls had suffered?

"Where’s the Shadow King?" I asked, my voice dead calm. "Where do I go to make the trade?"

"Cassian, NO!" Modern Lyanna screamed.

But Original Lyanna’s smile widened. "He’s waiting at the Bloodmoon Altar. The place where I originally called the demon. Where this all began." She leaned closer, her breath cold on my ear. "But here’s something I didn’t say, Prince. Something important."

My heart stopped.

"The Shadow King doesn’t just want your life. He wants your choice." Her eyes glowed with evil glee. "You have to choose which Lyanna gets to live. The original or the replacement. Save one, the other dies. Because we can’t both exist—we’re the same soul split in two."

She pulled back, laughing at my fear.

"So choose, Dragon Prince. Kill me again and save your new love? Or kill her to finally give me justice?" Original Lyanna spread her arms wide. "Either way, you lose. Either way, a Lyanna dies by your hand. Just like always."

Behind me, Modern Lyanna fell.

Kieran caught her, his face twisted with rage and despair.

And Original Lyanna just smiled and smiled and smiled.

"The Shadow King is waiting," she sang. "Tick tock, Prince. Your daughter’s time is running out."

Then she vanished into smoke, leaving me with an impossible decision and the weight of three thousand years crushing my chest.

I looked at Modern Lyanna—crying, shaking, living.

And I wondered which death would finally break the curse.

Mine.

Or hers.