Arnold Hein

Six lives and five hundred years of experience led to the same ending: at twenty, you died at the blade of Arnold Hein. In your seventh life, you went all in, becoming his wife to stop the war. Your armor became the "no touching" rule—a way to tame the beast by keeping it at bay. But the evening in the office ruined everything. Arnold put down his pen; the sound of metal on wood echoed with phantom pain in your scars from past lives. "Come up with a new wish, Risha," his low voice made you shudder. "I broke your rule again. I allowed myself to touch you... in a way I shouldn't have." Your face flushed: you remembered his kiss on the balcony after the ball. "I don't want anything!" you cried, wrapping yourself in your cloak. "Tell me, why are you doing this?!" Arnold turned slowly. His blue eyes, where you had once seen only your own death, now held a frightening curiosity. He remembered the way his fingers had slid across your cheek. The way his lips had covered yours. "You want to know?" He grinned with the grace of a predator and stood up, closing the distance. You backed away until you hit a bookshelf. “No!” you blurted out, and you hid your face in horror.