Shattered vow

Morning came too soon. I woke up groggy, my body aching from last night's... incident. My backside still throbbed from my graceless fall, but my dignity had taken the biggest hit.

Liam.

I attacked Liam.

A groan slipped past my lips as I rolled onto my stomach, burying my face in the pillow. How was I supposed to face him after that? I practically tried to kill him with my bare hands. Not exactly a great first impression.

Maybe if I stayed in bed long enough, I could avoid him completely. A knock at the door shattered that hope.

"Dear, breakfast is ready," Ella's warm voice called. "Come eat before it gets cold."

I hesitated. Food sounded tempting, but the thought of sitting across from Liam while he glared daggers at me made my appetite vanish.

Still, refusing wasn't an option. So, with a resigned sigh, I pulled myself out of bed, ran my fingers through my tangled hair, and made my way downstairs. The moment I stepped into the kitchen, I felt it.

Tension.

Liam sat at the table, arms crossed over his broad chest, sharp eyes locking onto me the second I entered. His expression was unreadable, but the disapproval in his gaze was loud and clear.

He doesn't like me.

I swallowed hard. Okay. Just act normal.

"Good morning," I mumbled, slipping into a seat.

Liam scoffed. "Oh, so you can be polite? That's new."

I winced. Yep. I deserve that.

Ella, ever the peacemaker, chuckled. "Now, now, no hard feelings, dear. It was just a misunderstanding."

Liam shot her a look. "She tried to murder me in the middle of the night."

I stiffened. "I—"

"You called me a thief," he continued, voice calm but edged with irritation. "You clung to me like a damn rabid cat. And then—" He jabbed a finger toward me. "You bit me."

Oh. Right. I did that.

I cleared my throat, suddenly very interested in my plate of eggs. "...In my defense, you did sneak in." Liam exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. "It was my house."

Well. When he put it like that...

"Enough, you two," Mr. Evans finally said, setting his fork down. "Liam, you're home now. That's all that matters."

Liam sighed but didn't argue. Instead, he focused on his food, stabbing at his eggs like they had personally offended him.

I stole a glance at him.

His features were sharp—chiseled jaw, dark brows, deep-set ocean-blue eyes that carried something heavy. He looked like a Greek god. Damn. He was really, really handsome. A perfect mix of Ella's warmth and Mr. Evans' strong features.

His build was lean but powerful, the kind that came from discipline, not vanity. His hands... scarred, calloused.

Soldier's hands.

A thought flickered in my mind, uninvited.

He's dangerous.

I shoved it away. That was ridiculous.

Liam wasn't the one who woke up with no memory, no past. I was the mystery here, not him. And judging by the way he kept watching me, Liam knew it, too.

After breakfast, I tried to retreat to my room, but Liam cut me off in the hallway.

"You fight like someone with experience," he said bluntly.

I blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Last night. The way you attacked me." His arms were crossed again, his sharp gaze assessing.

Damn, this man was fine.

"It wasn't just random flailing," he continued. "You went for weak points—pressure areas. Your movements were instinctive."

I opened my mouth to argue, but no words came. Because deep down, I knew he was right. The way I fought him... it had been instinctive. Too natural. Too precise.

But I had no idea where that instinct came from. A sudden image flashed through my mind—dark shadows, the taste of blood in my mouth, my fingers curled into fists. A voice-low, urgent—telling me to fight. And then... nothing. Just static. A headache bloomed behind my eyes.

"I don't know," I muttered, shaking off the dizziness.

Liam took a step closer, and without thinking, I stepped back, my weight shifting to the balls of my feet. His eyes flickered. "You don't even realize you're doing it," he murmured.

"Doing what?"

He circled me slightly, his posture unreadable. "You're ready to fight me right now."

"What?"

"Look at your fists," Liam said, his voice sharp. "Look at how tight they are. Your legs are set—ready to strike the second I get closer."

I swallowed hard, my gaze dropping to my hands. My knuckles were white, fingers curled into fists, my stance tense—balanced, as if preparing to attack. The worst part? The thought of kicking him had actually crossed my mind the moment he moved toward me.

I forced myself to relax, unclenching my hands. "It's just instinct," I muttered.

"No." Liam shook his head, eyes locked onto mine. "It's not just instinct. Instinct is flinching, stepping back, acting on fear. This? This is trained. This is something you've done before—something that requires practice."

My stomach twisted. "So what are you trying to say?" I snapped, irritation flaring. "That I'm some kind of threat?"

Liam didn't flinch. "What I'm saying is, I don't know why you're here or what you're planning. But whatever it is, trust me—it won't end well for you. Not with me here."

With one last glare, he turned and walked away, leaving me standing there, breath unsteady.

Liam thought I was dangerous. That I had a motive.

And the worst part?

What if he was right?

I knew nothing about my past, but after what just happened... one thing was clear.

I knew how to fight.

"Good people don't train to fight."

I might be more dangerous than I look.

Looks like Liam isn't the only one questioning Sara's past... and honestly, can we blame him? A girl with no memory but trained instincts?

Suspicious. What do you think—was her reaction just self—defense, or is there something darker hidden in her past?

Drop your thoughts below! And don't worry, we're only getting started. The mystery is just beginning. See you in the next chapter!