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POV Claire
I turned around.
Slowly.
As if my body was afraid to reach the end of the movement.
It wasn't really a silhouette.
It was… a mass.
A dense, dark, compact mist—standing.
The rough shape of a human being, without clear edges, as if the shadows themselves had decided to take form in the room.
And in the middle of that shifting darkness—
eyes.
Red.
Glowing.
Not shining.
Burning.
They were staring at me.
Directly.
My throat closed instantly.
Air refused to enter.
My heart pounded so hard I felt like the creature could see it beating beneath my skin.
It sees me.
It really sees me.
I couldn't look away.
As if that gaze had hooked me in place.
Then—
The thing tilted its head slightly.
Its eyes left mine.
The pressure vanished instantly.
A breath escaped my lips—sharp, trembling, almost painful.
I hadn't even realized I was holding it.
Why… why did it look away?
And that's when I heard it.
A voice.
Deep.
Calm.
Male.
"That wasn't supposed to happen."
The voice came from behind the thing.
I slowly shifted my gaze.
And I saw him.
A man.
Very real.
Tall.
Straight.
Present in a way that felt almost… too sharp for such an unreal place.
His dark blond hair caught the light.
And his eyes—
Hazel.
But in this light, they leaned toward green, like leaves seen through sunlight.
He wasn't doing anything impressive.
He was just standing there.
And yet something about his posture imposed silence.
A quiet confidence.
A presence that didn't try to exist—yet still filled the space completely.
Even with fear tightening my stomach, an absurd thought crossed my mind:
In another situation… I would have fallen for him without hesitation.
I clung to reality like a lifeline.
No.
No, no, no.
He's talking to… that thing.
His gaze wasn't on me.
But on the creature.
As if they knew each other.
As if they… were on the same side.
The unease returned—colder, deeper.
I wasn't supposed to be here.
I wasn't supposed to see this.
I stayed still, breath shallow, watching them.
Listening.
Like an intruder in a conversation that somehow concerned me more than anyone else.
The mist rippled slightly.
And the man spoke again, his voice low, controlled:
"She didn't escape me.
I just let them go."
"And why is that?"
My blood ran cold.
The thing's voice was deep. Cold. Inhuman.
The kind of voice that crawls under your skin.
The man gave a lazy smile.
"Because chasing a panicked prey is so… ordinary.
I prefer when they start believing they're safe.
That's when the hunt gets interesting."
The mist vibrated faintly.
"I brought you here to bring her back. Not to entertain yourself."
The man rolled his eyes as if he'd just been asked for the greatest effort imaginable.
"Oh, relax a little, Voldemort."
He picked up a glass and took a sip.
Then added with a half-smile:
"I'll bring her back. Sooner or later.
Either way… I don't really have a choice."
"Don't pretend you dislike it. You'll be well rewarded, Alexander."
The man grimaced slightly.
"Alexander… seriously?
No one calls me that."
He tilted his head, amused.
"Killian.
It's shorter.
And it sounds much better when someone's begging."
The mist seemed to contract.
Even without a face, I could feel the contempt.
But one thing disturbed me more than anything else.
Who were they talking about?
I wanted answers.
But I was more lost than ever.
What was this place?
What was that thing?
One thing was certain—
They were dangerous.
Both of them.
"By the way… did you notice the little mouse that slipped in here?"
"It's more like a rat that has no business being here."
My heart stopped.
They're talking about—
Killian tilted his head slightly.
Then a slow smile spread across his lips.
"Oh, I don't know…
I find the mouse rather cute."
Silence.
Then he added calmly:
"I'll take care of it.
After all… I do enjoy welcoming guests."
"That would be complicated. I would have to manifest," the entity replied.
Killian set his glass down.
"No need to go to all that trouble.
I've got it."
He inhaled lightly.
Then murmured, almost amused:
"That's a shame…
I liked the jasmine scent she carries."
Jasmine.
My brain took a second too long to understand.
Then the air seemed to vanish around me.
The scent of jasmine…
I inhaled.
My perfume.
Oh no.
I didn't have time to step back.
A hand closed around my wrist.
Warm.
Real.
Solid.
"Hey there."
---
His hand held my wrist.
Not brutally.
Not violently.
But with quiet certainty.
As if my escape had never been an option.
His skin was warm. Too warm.
The heat seeped into mine, ran up my arm like an electric current, and my heart skipped a beat.
I looked up at him.
Up close… it was worse.
His features were beautiful, yes. Almost perfect.
But there was something behind his gaze.
Something analyzing.
Not me.
What I was.
What I was worth.
What I represented.
Like I was some rare object that had finally been found again.
"You're trembling.
Should I be offended?"
His voice wasn't pressing. Not aggressive.
Calm.
And that was the most terrifying part.
I tried to pull my wrist away.
He didn't force it.
He barely tightened his grip.
It was enough to pin me in place.
"Bad idea."
A small smile appeared.
"You know… people who try to run always make me want to chase them."
He tilted his head.
"And trust me, I'm very fast."
How is this possible?
I'm not really here… this is impossible.
He shouldn't be able to touch me or see me.
The corner of his mouth lifted.
Not a smile.
A reaction.
As if he had heard my thoughts.
"I'm pretty sure you're wondering how I can touch you."
The air grew heavier.
Behind him, the mist shifted, almost impatient.
I could feel its gaze on me.
Cold. Hungry.
I was trapped.
"Who are you?" I managed to whisper.
He tilted his head slightly.
"I can hear your breathing. Every sound you make. So I assume you're talking to me… but unfortunately, I can't hear a word. That's the limit of my ability," he said, almost disappointed.
My blood ran cold.
So I was right…
He's not supposed to see me.
Even less touch me.
His eyes dropped to my wrist in his hand.
His thumb brushed my skin.
Slowly.
As if searching for something.
As if checking.
A sensation pulsed beneath my skin.
A burning tingling.
Brief.
Then gone.
He looked back up at me.
And this time, his gaze changed.
Less amused.
More focused.
"Interesting…"
My stomach twisted.
What is happening?
He tilted his head, observing me like a rare phenomenon.
"Now I understand why I had that strange feeling."
My fear intensified.
He stepped closer.
Close enough for me to feel his breath against my temple.
"You're almost the same…"
Behind him, the creature spoke, voice low and vibrating:
"Enough playing."
Killian sighed.
"Always such a killjoy."
Then his hand tightened around my wrist.
"One second.
I think I just discovered something… fascinating."
His grip tightened further.
The warmth in his palm turned into a burn.
And for a fraction of a second—
something brushed against my face.
Like a presence.
Then images exploded in my mind.
Brutal.
Painful.
Too fast to understand.
I saw myself.
Him.
Then a room.
A room I knew.
The walls.
The light.
The window.
This wasn't a memory.
It was now.
No—
What's happening?
What the hell is this?
My vision fractured.
I wasn't in one body anymore.
I was in several places at once.
I saw him.
I saw myself.
And suddenly—
I understood who the other person was.
Avery.
The bond pulsed between us like a wound that had just been reopened.
I was connected to—
Him.
And Avery.
---
Author's point of view
From now on I will publish every Wednesday if possible and the number of chapters may vary.There will be fewer publications in the coming months as I am returning to classes and I sincerely hope you will continue to enjoy my novel.