The night was getting cold and with deep huffs and wild thoughts running Jenna lay down on bed, thinking about something-someone she shouldn't or should probably forget , about someone who she can only meet through the weave of reality and illusion.
Jenna didn't know when the dream began — only that she was suddenly standing in a place that felt too vivid, too charged to be unreal. The air shimmered with warmth, smoky and sweet, like something was burning slowly somewhere close. Her skin tingled, every sense sharpened.
And then she felt him.
A presence behind her… tall, powerful, radiating heat. She couldn't see him, but she felt the way the air shifted when he moved — like the world obeyed him.
A warm breath brushed the back of her neck.
"Jenna…"
The voice poured into her like liquid fire.
Her knees weakened.
She turned halfway, but before she could speak, fingers brushed her waist — slow, deliberate, intimate. The touch sent a shock through her. She inhaled sharply, her heartbeat stuttering.
"W-who are you?" she whispered, but her voice cracked, betraying the effect he had on her.
He didn't answer. Instead, he stepped closer, his chest nearly touching her back. The heat of him seeped through her thin clothes, making her shiver.
His hand rose, fingertips trailing the length of her spine in a way that felt wicked — forbidden — yet she couldn't force herself to step away. Her breath came out shaky as his touch circled to the front, brushing the sensitive skin just under her collarbone.
"Why does your body react to me like this?" he murmured, his lips grazing her ear.
Her entire body tightened with an ache she didn't understand. Her pulse throbbed in places she didn't want to acknowledge. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to steady herself, but the closeness… the warmth… the way he touched her like he already knew her… it was overwhelming.
He moved her hair aside with a slow, sensual drag of his fingers.
"You feel it too," he whispered.
Before she could deny it, his hand slid up, curling lightly around her neck — not hurting, but claiming… controlling. The sensation hit her so intensely her breath caught. His thumb brushed her throat, tracing her pulse, and Jenna felt a rush of heat spread through her entire body.
She should have pushed him away.
She should have screamed.
But instead, she leaned back — barely an inch — but enough for him to sense it.
He chuckled darkly. "Good girl."
The words hit her harder than his touch.
Her eyes fluttered open — and that's when she saw him.
A shadowed face emerging from the darkness. Sharp jawline. Eyes glowing faintly like embers. Lips curved into a sinful, knowing smirk.
He lifted her chin gently, forcing her to meet his gaze.
"You belong to me here," he said, voice low and possessive.
"In this world… you always have."
His thumb pressed slightly against her neck, sending a dizzy, burning thrill through her body. Jenna couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Couldn't decide if she was terrified or entranced.
Maybe both.
The world around them darkened… his face moved closer… their breaths mingled…
She gasped—
And woke up.
...................
Jenna shot upright in her bed, chest heaving. Her sheets were twisted around her legs, sticking to her skin. Her body was burning… trembling… as if the dream had happened physically.
Her heart hammered so hard it hurt.
She pressed a hand to her racing chest, trying to calm down, but her fingers brushed something painful near her throat. Confused, she stumbled to the mirror.
Her breath stopped.
Two red marks circled her neck.
Not scratches.
Not a rash.
Finger-shaped marks.
Exactly where his hand had been.
Jenna's blood ran cold.
That dream…
That touch…
That voice…
It wasn't just a dream.
And someone — or something — had followed her out of it.