Song Recommendation: "Never Gonna Leave Your Side" — Daniel Bedingfield
–
"I don't understand…" Catherine gasped, stumbling back. "You're… you're supposed to be dead."
Through the mirror, George's eyes narrowed. A slow, knowing smile played on his lips.
"You don't have to worry anymore, Catherine," he said, voice low and amused. "From now on… I'll be with you. In your dreams. Always with you."
She stepped closer—hesitant, trembling. Her fingers twitched, as if longing to touch the man she had once been promised to. Ten months, that was all it took to fall hopelessly in love with him. He had opened her eyes to a world she never knew—love. Secret touches, whispered promises… he had made her feel alive.
But he was dead.
She had watched them dig his grave. She had seen the soil cover his coffin.
It didn't make sense.
How was he standing in front of her now?
"This must be an illusion," she breathed, her voice shaking.
George's eyes darkened, "No, Catherine. It's me. I'm real. I'm George."
"It's been a month…" she whispered, turning her gaze from the mirror to the night sky. "And still, the pain hasn't left. You were gone. You are gone…"
"I don't want you to hurt anymore, love," he growled, voice deep with emotion. "I'm here now. In your heart. In your soul. I'll never leave you again."
Tears slipped down her cheeks as her hand pressed to her chest.
"I just want peace," she whispered. "Why can't I have that?"
She laughed—bitter and broken—shaking her head as the tears fell freely, "I must be going insane… thinking George is still with me."
But then—
A sharp pain stabbed her heart. Like needles, driving deep. She gasped, clutching her chest.
Catherine flinched as the pain intensified, eyes snapping open in horror.
"I told you," the voice behind her rumbled, deep and thunderous. "I live in your soul now."
Shakily, she turned—only to freeze.
Her lips were moving… but it wasn't her voice. Each time his reflection spoke, it was her mouth that moved.
She blinked. He was there—right in front of her. Frowning but real.
"This isn't a dream?" Her voice cracked as her eyes widened.
"Yes, Catherine," he said gently, his gaze softening. "I'm here."
"But… how?" Her lips trembled. None of it made sense. He was supposed to be dead.
"How are you even here?"
Was this like those strange dreams she used to have about Elias? At the thought of him, her gaze darted to the metallic clock on the wall.
And then—she gasped. This wasn't a dream.
"Oh, George…" she whispered, spinning toward him, hand pressed to her mouth. "How are you alive?"
"I'm not," he said quietly, eyes dropping to the floor. "I'm dead. But now… I live in your soul."
Catherine didn't understand. But in that moment, it didn't matter. She was too overwhelmed. Too overjoyed.
"If you're here," she whispered, smiling through her tears, "then you must have read my letters…"
She took a shaky step forward, hope filling her chest, "maybe the gods heard me. Maybe they granted my final wish… to see you again."
George smiled.
"I wrote you letters every night, George," she whispered, her voice raw from crying. "Did you ever read them? Did your guardian angel give them to you?"
George shook his head gently, "No, Catherine," he said softly. "I don't have a guardian angel."
"But you must!" She let out a shaky laugh, pacing across the room. "Everyone has one, George. Everyone."
Her eyes sparkled through the tears. "Oh, George… just look at you. You look exactly the same."
Suddenly, she stopped. Her gaze locked on him—pleading, broken.
"Then why… why won't you come out of the mirror and hug me?" Her voice cracked.
"I miss you, George. I miss you so much."
What Catherine didn't know, just beyond her bedroom door was that Meredith stood frozen.
The wind had pushed the door slightly ajar. And through the crack, she had seen everything: Catherine… speaking to the mirror. Calling out to George.
But when Meredith looked, there was no one else. Only Catherine—alone—staring at her own reflection.
"My God…" Meredith gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. "She's completely lost her mind."
Shaking her head, she turned and ran down the hallway, "I have to tell Mother. She can never be fit for the throne."
Inside the room, George remained still—trapped behind the mirror, just as Catherine had feared.
"I cannot step out," he said quietly, his voice echoing like a whisper on the wind. "I live only in your soul, Catherine. Call my name, and I will answer."
Catherine blinked. Then her eyes darted to the clock.
"Maybe… maybe I should call someone," she muttered, backing away. "He'll understand. He's the only one who ever believed me about this… this strange, paranormal recurrence."
She reached the tall metallic clock—its hands frozen at twelve.
"Don't," George's voice surged suddenly, sharp and panicked.
His tone shifted darkly and frantic. "That vampire is a monster. A murderer. He's not meant for you."
Catherine turned slowly, confused. "But… but he wouldn't hurt me, George," she said softly. "He's a nice vampire."
George's eyes darkened, and a chill swept through the room.
She felt it—the same burning rage that had haunted her dreams. It rolled off him in waves, pressing into her chest like a heavy weight.
"Vampires are not nice!" he roared.
The ground trembled beneath her feet.
The wind howled through the cracks of the room. The air turned sharp—ice creeping under her skin.
"George....make it stop!" she screamed, clutching her arms as the cold closed in. "Please..make it stop!"
"You belong to me, Catherine!" George's voice thundered, shaking the air. "You must not remember what he is… what you were!"
His roar made her flinch.
"In this world," he growled, "you must remember only me. You belong to me —and no one else."
"Oh, George…" she whimpered, clutching her chest as the burn returned sharply and aching. "Please stop… make it stop. It hurts."
But his fury only grew. The wind surged with his rage, pulling her backward. The cold deepened, biting into her skin, raising goosebumps along her arms.
Catherine rubbed her wrist, trembling.
Even in the freezing storm, she longed to reach out to him....
But the wind made it impossible.
Then suddenly—
Strong hands wrapped around her waist from behind, pulling her close to a solid, warm chest.
A whisper cut through the storm, soft and steady, "I'm here. And I will never leave your side."
She turned her head, heart thudding—
And met crimson eyes. Fierce. Intense and dangerous. Yet somehow… she felt safe.
Held in his arms, she didn't want to move.
Didn't want to let go.
"How are you here?" she breathed, her voice trembling as her arms clung to him for comfort.
He smiled. One hand rose gently to her cheek. A jolt sparked beneath her skin at his touch.
"You called me," he murmured.
Then his gaze lifted to the clock.
"But… I never turned the clock's hands," Catherine gasped.
"You don't have to," he whispered into her ear. His breath brushed her skin, and her eyes fluttered shut.
"Once the hands strike twelve… if you think of me, I'll appear."
"But why…" she opened her eyes slowly, drawn into the storm in his gaze—
A storm that should have frightened her. But it didn't. It pulled her closer. She wanted to hold it. To weather it.
"Why would I think of you?"
"Because, Catherine…" His lips brushed hers.
Elias closed his eyes—breathing her in, feeling the ache of years without her, the silence between their souls, "you're beginning to remember… who I am."
Their eyes opened together—breath catching. But then—
A furious roar tore through the room, ripping them apart.
"Step away from her!"
The mirror cracked with a sharp snap.
Catherine stumbled back, eyes wide—her trembling hands pressed to her chest. She had pushed Elias away.
"Catherine, let me hold you," Elias said, reaching for her, "I can take the pain away. I can make him disappear."
But something shifted in her.
Her eyes shone—hazel light flashing in the depths of her blue-grey gaze. Power surged through her. Wind swirled like a dance, rising with her cry.
"NO!"
The force burst from her, pushing him back.
"You can never have her," a voice roared through her lips. "She belongs to me!"