The fog, like a living being, meandered over the dark river, hiding its icy interior. The pale light of the moon penetrated through the veil, bleaching the willow, bent over the water, as if grieving. In this ghostly light, Lane's silhouette seemed especially fragile and lonely. She was standing on the very edge, the water licking the hem of her aqua-colored dress, turning it into a heavy, wet cloth. In her hand, a small silver dagger is clutched like a last resort.

"You're at the river again, Lane. Are you looking for oblivion in her cold embrace? Ian's voice sounded mocking, snapping the girl out of her daze. There was a shadow of a grin on his face, as if he was an evil spirit watching his victim's torment.

"I'm not looking for anything else, Jan," the girl said without turning around, her voice sounding hollow and desperate.

– I don't believe it. You're always looking for something. Love... comfort... at least a little peace. Didn't I give you all this? His gaze, like a venomous snake, stared at Lane, penetrating to the very depths of her soul. He knew how to hurt, how to reopen old wounds.

"Love?" Do you call this love? You're just feeding on my pain like a parasite! She whirled around, her eyes burning with hatred, and her hand, clutching the dagger, was shaking. She could no longer contain the storm of emotions bubbling inside.

–Pain is the currency of love, Lane. Haven't you realized that by now? The more you suffer, the more you love – the guy calmly advanced on her, ignoring the sharp blade ready to plunge into his flesh. He was confident in his power over her, in her inability to harm him. It was as if he was playing with fire, enjoying the danger.

"I won't let you hurt me anymore!" Lane whispered softly, raising the dagger. The words came out of her mouth like a death rattle, full of desperation and determination.

"Really?" Do you think this little piece of metal can stop me? You know I'm immortal in your memories," Ian stopped a few steps away from her, his eyes glittering with a sinister fire. He knew that he lived in her every breath, in her every tear, in every nightmare that haunted her dreams. He was a part of her, like the darkest shadow that couldn't be shaken off.

"I hate you!" I'll kill you! "Stop it!" the girl shouted, her voice rising to a growl.

"Try it." But know this, if you kill me, you'll kill a part of yourself. We are reflections of each other, Lane–Yang slowly approached her, his movements were smooth and menacing, as if he was a predator preparing to attack. He gently cupped her face in his hands, and she froze, as if blinded by the light. There was both tenderness and menace in his touch, love and hate. And Lane knew he was right.