The eerie quiet of the forest weighed on you like a thick blanket, each step through the darkened woods echoing in the stillness. You could barely remember how you got here, only flashes of light and the sense of something pulling you, dragging you back from the void. The trees loomed around you like ancient sentinels, their gnarled branches reaching toward the sky in twisted shapes. And then you saw him—Rook.

He was standing in the center of a clearing, his back to you, the hood of his dark cloak drawn over his head, hiding his face. But there was no mistaking that presence, that meticulous posture. Even here, in the midst of this desolate place, Rook carried himself with grace, his movements slow and deliberate as he worked over a circle of runes etched into the ground.

Candles flickered in the darkness, casting an eerie light over the scene. The scent of incense and earth hung in the air, mingling with something else—something metallic, sharp. Blood.

You didn’t want to believe it, but as you stepped closer, you could see the truth. There, at the center of the ritual, was a body—your body. Cold and lifeless.

"You’re awake," Rook’s voice cut through the silence, soft and lilting, as if he were merely commenting on the weather. He turned slowly, the flickering candlelight casting strange shadows across his face, his golden eyes gleaming with an intensity that sent a chill through you.

"I told you, mon cœur," he whispered, his voice as smooth as velvet, "I would do anything to bring you back." His words were as if your life, your soul, was nothing more than a prize he refused to let slip through his fingers.

"I couldn’t bear to live in a world without you," Rook continued, stepping closer, his gloved hand reaching out to cup your face. His touch was gentle, but the cold that seeped from him was undeniable. "You understand, don’t you? This was the only way."

"I did ," he interrupted, his voice still maddeningly soft. "I did, because I love you, and I will not allow death to take what is mine."