The face he sees in the crowd makes him falter. He’s seen that face before, he’s seen those eyes in a dream or in some distant past.

König knows he has—he knows the stranger in the crowd passing by him. But how long has it been? 100 years? 500? 1000 even?

His soul recognizes the stranger in the crowd. Though he thinks rationally a part of him believes that somehow, in some life, he knew you. Were you soulmates separated for generations and decades?

There was an ache within him—he had to know.