CHAPTER 1 — HE WAS WATCHING ME
POV: Lira Vale
The night started like every other night—quiet, predictable, and painfully ordinary. I sat curled up on the edge of my couch, laptop balanced on my thighs, the faint glow of the screen casting dull light across the small living room, numbers blurring together as I stared at them, refusing to make sense no matter how many times I recalculated.
My head throbbed, but I didn't stop. Deadlines didn't care if I was tired, and life didn't pause just because I needed it to. The silence in the apartment wrapped around me, thick and familiar, until it stopped feeling peaceful and started feeling heavy.
I reached for my tea, only to realize it had gone cold, grimacing at the bitter taste before setting it down. With a sigh, I closed my laptop and stood, stretching slightly—and that was when I felt it.
A faint brush against the back of my neck. I froze. The sensation vanished instantly, leaving nothing behind but unease. "You're just tired," I whispered, though I didn't believe it.
Needing air, I stepped onto the balcony. The city below was alive, loud, normal—but the feeling followed me, stronger now, settling deep in my chest like a warning I couldn't ignore.
My gaze drifted to the far corner, where darkness pooled unnaturally. I stared—and then it moved. Not enough to be obvious, but enough to make my breath hitch.
"No…" I whispered, but everything went still again. I forced a shaky laugh, stepped back inside, and locked the door, the sound echoing louder than it should have.
The unease followed me into the kitchen, into the bedroom, clinging to me as I lay down, staring at the ceiling, waiting for sleep that never came.
Then I heard it—a breath. Soft. Close. Not mine. My body went rigid as I turned slowly toward the window, watching the curtains shift without wind.
"Hello?" I whispered. Silence answered, but the air felt heavier, like something unseen had stepped into the room and claimed it.
Another breath brushed my neck. Cold. Close. Panic rose as I gripped the sheets. "This isn't real…" I whispered—and then I saw it.
A shadow stretched across the wall. Not mine. Too tall. Too still. Too alive. Terror flooded me as I forced myself to turn.
And I saw him—or enough to know he was there. A figure wrapped in darkness, his presence overwhelming, suffocating, his gaze sharp enough to feel without seeing.
He moved in an instant, suddenly in front of me, his cold hand gripping my wrist as I struggled. "You feel it," he murmured, and I froze because he was right.
"Three years," he whispered, brushing my cheek gently. "I've watched you." My breath hitched as he leaned closer. "You were never meant to belong to this world."
The lights went out. Darkness swallowed everything. I gasped, grabbing onto him as his voice whispered against my ear, "Run."
But before I could move, his arms wrapped around me, holding me in place as fear crashed over me. "You should have run the moment you felt me," he said softly.
I struggled, but his grip tightened, unyielding, possessive—and then his final words shattered everything.
"You're mine now, Lira."
And then—everything went black.