Untill My Last Breath

After Alina was done with her breakfast, her stomach felt bloated, as if she were a pregnant woman. She even struggled to stand up before slowly making her way to her room. Once inside, she grabbed her phone from the table. As expected, there were numerous messages from her parents and from Helen. She quickly replied to her parents' messages before lying on the bed and starting a chat with Helen. After talking with her for a long time, she drifted off to sleep. --- Alina stood in the middle of an empty road. The sky was an eerie shade of blood-red, the air heavy and unmoving. Everything felt wrong-silent, except for the faint echo of her own heartbeat in her ears. She had no idea where she was. She began walking forward, each step sounding unnaturally loud in the stillness. The road stretched endlessly into the horizon, flanked by abandoned buildings-windows shattered, doors hanging loose. Then she heard it. Footsteps. Slow. Deliberate. Coming from behind her. Her stomach tightened. She turned, but the fog behind her was too thick to see through. A shape began to emerge within it-tall, dark, faceless. Her pulse raced. "Who's there?" she called, but her voice sounded hollow, as though it didn't belong to her. The figure gave no reply. It simply walked toward her with steady, certain steps, as if it already knew how this would end. Panic surged through her, and she turned to run. Her legs felt heavy, like she was moving through water. The road seemed to stretch farther and farther away with every desperate stride. The air grew colder. Her breath came in short, ragged gasps. Then-pain. A sudden, sharp stab in the center of her chest. Her body lurched forward, and she fell to her knees. The pain spread, deep and unbearable, radiating out from her heart. Her hands trembled as she looked down and saw crimson blooming across her white dress. She tried to scream, but no sound came. The figure stood over her now, its shadow swallowing her whole. Her vision blurred, the edges of the world turning black. The ground beneath her seemed to fall away, pulling her into a bottomless void. Her last thought before the darkness consumed her was chillingly clear: I'm dying. --- She gasped and jolted awake, the black blanket tangled around her. Her chest ached as if the dream had been real. For a moment, she sat there, staring around the room, before rubbing her face with a small sigh. "Another bad dream... figures," she muttered. It wasn't the first time she'd had a nightmare like this. Ever since she learned she only had a few years left to live, such dreams had become a part of her life. She had, in some way, grown used to them. She checked the time-6 p.m. Sighing again, she tried to lie back down, but a knock came at the door. She ran her hand through her hair before dragging herself up and answering it. A maid stood there. "Miss, it's time for dinner." "Hmmm... I'm not hungry, thank you," Alina replied. She had eaten a lot earlier and wasn't ready for more food. "Okay, Miss," the maid said, bowing slightly before walking away. Alina wanted to tell her not to bow. She wasn't used to it-it was something she had only ever seen in TV dramas where maids bowed to princesses. Thinking about princesses reminded her of Sleeping Beauty-the princess who slept for years until true love woke her up. What if fate twisted things, and the only way for her to live longer was through true love? But... did she even have true love? The only people she loved were her family and her friend. She had never dated anyone in her life, never known what it felt like to be someone's girlfriend or lover. Helen, on the other hand, always told her stories about her own boyfriend-who eventually broke up with her. Alina remembered how Helen cried for days, as if she'd lost her parents. If having a boyfriend only led to heartbreak, then Alina would gladly die single. With that thought, she closed the door, lay down on her bed, and let herself relax. Slowly, she was getting used to staying in this room. --- The next morning, Alina woke up and headed straight to the bathroom. She brushed her teeth and took a quick shower. When she came out, she opened the wardrobe and picked a white shirt and an orange skirt-since that was practically the only color combination the devil ever bought for her. She had only told him she preferred her room painted white and orange instead of black, but the dumb devil took it personally and bought an entire wardrobe full of orange and white clothes. He's really annoying, and she hated him for that. Hating him? She almost forgot-his second rule was that she wasn't allowed to hate him. But how could she possibly avoid it when he was this infuriating? She wondered if she would even survive the next six months. At this rate, she might end up suffocating in this house before her time was up. Once she was dressed, she let her wet hair down, the strands falling past her waist. Then she left the room. When she got downstairs, she saw Liam sitting on the couch, legs crossed, holding a newspaper in one hand and a coffee cup in the other. Alina hadn't expected to see him; she thought he might have gone to work. Or... did he even have a job? What was she even thinking? Of course he must have something going on-how else would he be this rich? Then again... maybe he just collected money from the poor. He looked like he could be that heartless. Alina was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't notice Liam's eyes on her. He had the power to read minds-especially human ones-but he held himself back. If he found out she was insulting him in her head, he might just lose his temper and toss her out the nearest window. "Are you going to stand there forever?" Liam's voice snapped her out of her daze. "Good... good morning," Alina said, embarrassed at how easily she'd drifted off into her own head. "Were you planning to stand there and admire me? Am I really that handsome?" Liam teased. Alina wanted to scream, Yes, you're handsome-and heartless! But she kept her mouth shut to avoid any punishment. "Nothing," she replied simply. "So... you haven't told me what I should be doing while staying here," Alina said, quickly changing the subject. She took a seat on one of the couches facing Liam. "I'm still thinking about it," Liam replied. "But please, don't go anywhere near my kitchen." "Why?" Alina asked, frowning. "You want to burn my house down? Don't even think about cooking," Liam said, taking a slow sip of his coffee before setting the cup on the side table. "I can cook. My grandma and mom taught me," Alina retorted. "Anyway, whatever-I wasn't even planning on cooking." "Better," Liam said with a small, satisfied smirk. "Can I ask you for a favor?" Alina said. "Ask," Liam replied, his eyes fixed on her, curious about what she was about to request. "Since you don't seem to have work today, I was thinking... maybe we could go to the park. We could play some games and grab some ice cream. Trust me-it's going to be fun," Alina said with a hopeful smile. Liam was stunned. Of all the things she could have asked, this was not what he expected. This girl kept surprising him at every turn. Wasn't she afraid of him? Every other woman he had met in his life feared him. They knew he was dangerous-a man no one could afford to provoke. Being near him felt, to most, like standing at the edge of hell. But this girl... she was different. He could tell she knew he was dangerous-anyone who looked into his eyes could sense the coldness and darkness that wrapped around him like an invisible shield. Yet here she was, talking to him as if she didn't care whether she lived or died. "Who told you I've got no job? Do I look like your dad?" Liam asked. "Please... just this once," she pleaded. "No. I'll order as much ice cream as you want," Liam said flatly, leaving Alina speechless. She opened her mouth to argue, but before she could say a word, Liam suddenly stood. The air around him shifted-heavier, darker. His gaze locked on her, and she froze in surprise at his sudden change in demeanor. "To your room. Now. And don't come out unless I tell you to," Liam ordered. "Why? I-" His deadly glare cut her off mid-sentence. The hairs on her arms stood on end, and her body trembled. "Now," Liam repeated, his tone ice-cold. Alina swallowed hard, her heart pounding. Was he angry because of her request? She wanted to apologize, but her lips wouldn't move. All she could do was nod like an obedient child and quietly walk away. A few minutes after Alina disappeared into her room, the grand living room began to change. It started with a faint, acrid smell like burnt wood, curling through the air. Then, from nowhere, thick smoke began to seep into the space, swirling in slow, sinister patterns around the furniture. Liam's eyes narrowed. This was no ordinary smoke, it moved like it had a will of its own, circling him as though testing his patience. Then came the sound. A laugh. Low. Mocking. It seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once, filling every corner of the room. "How dare you come into my house? What do you want?" Liam's voice cut through the haze, calm but edged with warning. His tall frame stood unshaken, the smoke dancing around him. The laughter didn't stop. If anything, it deepened, as though whoever it belonged to found his anger amusing. Then, without warning, the smoke twisted in on itself and solidified-shadows pulling together to form the figure of a man. When the smoke finally faded, Kian stood there, smirking, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Why are you always so cold towards me, Liam? Come on... remember, we were once friends." His voice dripped with mock politeness as he stepped closer. "Won't you offer me a seat? My dear friend?" Liam's jaw clenched. "You haven't answered my question. I said, what are you doing here?" "Nothing serious," Kian said with a casual shrug. "I just came to say... hey." "I want you out. Now," Liam replied, his tone sharp enough to cut. Kian's smirk widened. "Won't you hear me out first? There's something I-" He stopped mid-sentence, his expression shifting as his head tilted slightly. His nostrils flared. "Wait... I can smell something." Liam's muscles tensed. Kian inhaled deeply, his eyes glimmering with hunger. "Something sweet." A pause. Then his grin turned feral. "Human blood." His voice was almost a whisper, but it slithered through the air like venom. "You have a human in this house." His tone carried a strange fascination. "But all your workers are witches... which means..." He licked his lips slowly. "There's a fresh one here. A real human." "Shut the hell up and leave before I lose it," Liam snapped, his voice low but vibrating with barely contained rage. "Please," Kian said, taking another deep breath as though savoring the scent. "Give her to me. My body is starving. You know I can't resist something like this. It smells... divine." His voice cracked slightly, his control slipping. "I want to taste her. Just once." That was the last straw. Liam's eyes darkened, a deep, dangerous shade of red blooming across his irises. Blue light began to swirl within them, slow at first, then crackling like electricity. With a sudden, sharp movement, that light shot outward, striking Kian square in the chest. Kian's scream ripped through the room, raw and furious. "How dare you strike me?" he snarled, clutching his chest. "Leave. Now," Liam said, his voice like iron. For a moment, Kian's own eyes turned pitch black, power gathering within him. The air trembled as if the walls themselves knew what was about to happen. But then... he stopped. He knew exactly how dangerous Liam was, and the fight wasn't worth it. Not today. Instead, Kian's lips curled into a cold smile. "Mark my words, Liam," he said, his voice low and venomous. "I will come back for the human. And when I do..." His eyes gleamed. "I'll drain every drop from her body until there's nothing left." With a sudden rush of wind, his figure disintegrated into smoke once more, vanishing as quickly as he had appeared. The room fell silent. The smoke dissolved, the air cleared, and the warmth returned almost as if nothing had happened. Liam exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair, though his mind was far from calm. He sank on the couch, his eyes still faintly glowing, his jaw tight.