Isabella's Point of View
I woke in a sweat, heart racing, yet I couldn't tell if I had been sleeping or awake. The apartment was still, the lights flickering as if they, too, were holding their breath. But the voice—the presence—was still there, impossibly close.
"Isabella," he said, low, deliberate, like a threat and a promise wrapped into one. My body reacted before my mind could catch up, heat pooling in a place I hadn't realized had been aching for him.
"I… I wasn't expecting you," I whispered, voice trembling even as I tried to sound steady.
He smirked, that cold, dangerous smile that sent shivers down my spine. "Expecting me? You never expect me. And yet… here I am. Right where you can't forget me."
I swallowed hard, trying to keep my breathing even, but it was impossible. Every inch of me ached with something I didn't understand, something I couldn't fight. "Why… why are you here?"
"Why?" His eyes darkened, sharp enough to cut through the shadows of my apartment—and maybe the shadows of my mind."Because you saw too much. You heard too much. You felt too much." He stepped closer, voice low, teasing, a dangerous drawl that made my knees threaten to give out. "And now… I can't let it go. Not for you. Not for me."
I backed up, heart pounding, hands clenching at my sides. "I… I don't want this."
His smile twisted, dangerous, like a blade. "Do you have a choice? You never did. Not when I'm in your dreams. Not when I'm in your head. Not when I'm in your blood."
The heat that pooled inside me turned sharper, deeper, confusing—fear and desire blending into something I couldn't name. "You're… dangerous," I breathed, voice barely more than a whisper.
"Exactly." His tone was velvet and steel. "And you… are drawn to it. Admit it, Isabella. Even in fear, your body betrays you. Your pulse, your breath, your desire… all mine."
I shivered. "You're insane."
"I'm not insane," he said softly, leaning close enough that I could feel the brush of his presence against me. "I'm precise. I'm calculated. I am what you can't run from. And yet… I am exactly what you want."
I gasped, the words too heavy, too dangerous, and yet impossible to deny. "I… I don't know…"
"You will," he whispered, voice curling around me like smoke. "In time, you'll know. Every fear, every pulse, every ache in your body… will tell you. And you'll understand that I'm the only story you'll ever belong to. Even in dreams."
The room darkened further, shadows curling like fingers around us. The air thickened. Every nerve screamed, my pulse hammering in rhythm with the danger, the thrill, the want.
Then he smiled one last time. Cold, cruel, and intoxicating.
"Sleep well, Isabella. You'll see me again. And next time… it won't just be a dream."
I woke fully then, heart pounding, sheets damp, pulse burning. But in the corner of the room, I could swear… the shadows had shifted.
And I knew. He wasn't done. Not yet.