CHAPTER THREE

The rain slammed against the window like furious drums, each crash of thunder stealing my breath. I woke suddenly, heart hammering so fast I thought it might burst. The scream from my dream still echoed in my throat, but my eyes were open now—wide and searching the dark.

That nightmare… those eyes. Deep, glowing red, staring at me from the shadows. I could still feel their heat, burning into my skin.

I swallowed hard, trying to steady my shaking hands, and reached up to touch my neck.

Nothing.

My fingers grazed bare skin where the pendant always rested—gone.

A cold wave of panic rolled over me, sharp and sudden. How could it be missing? I'd never taken it off. Not once.

I threw back the covers, heart pounding louder with every second, and frantically searched the bed, the floor, the small space around me.

No sign of it.

A sinking feeling twisted deep in my chest, heavier than the storm outside. My breath caught. I felt exposed, vulnerable—like something had slipped in close while I was trapped in sleep.

I pressed my back against the headboard, staring into the dark room, my hands trembling. Somewhere between the nightmare and waking, the cold truth settled on me like ice.

The pendant was gone.

My gaze snapped to the curtains, thin and sheer as fog.

And there… there was someone standing on my balcony.

I hardly dared to breathe as I peeked through the sheer curtains, the storm's wild rhythm drumming in my ears. On the balcony stood a figure — a boy, his lean back faintly visible through the thin, soaked fabric of a sheer shirt clinging to him like a second skin. The rain traced dark rivulets over the sharp angles of his shoulders, and a jagged scar ran down the length of his spine, pale and raw against his wet skin.

In his hands, gleaming faintly in the flashes of lightning, was my pendant. The silver chain slipped through his fingers like a secret treasure.

My chest tightened, and a scream caught in my throat.

But before I could even draw breath, he was inside — moving with the suddenness of a shadow, a swift wind that left me reeling. One hand shot up and pressed firmly over my lips, his fingers cool but unyielding.

"Shusshhh," his voice rumbled low and deep, a command and a warning all at once.

Panic surged anew as I tried to pull away, only to realize my wrists were bound tightly together — his black silk tie wrapped around them, smooth and strong.

The storm outside faded into silence around us, but my heart thundered louder than ever.

His fingers clicked open the pendant, revealing the faintly glowing rune inside. He stared at it for a long moment, then a slow, cruel smirk curled at the corner of his lips.

"So, you're the one they've been hiding from us," he said, voice husky with a dangerous charm, eyes glinting like knives in the dark. "I wondered when I'd finally find you."

He stepped closer, that smirk deepening as he let his gaze roam over me like a predator sizing up his prize.

The hunt ends tonight... but don't think this is the last you'll see of me," he said, voice low and charged with dark promise.

My breath caught, torn between terror and an inexplicable pull to this dark stranger who held my pendant in his hands.

My lips trembled beneath his hand, words desperate to break free.

When he slowly lowered it, I gasped in a shaky breath and whispered, "Who… who are you?"

He didn't answer.

I swallowed hard, my voice barely holding itself together. "Why are you here? What do you want from me?"

Still, nothing.

Only silence — except for the storm outside and the soft rattle of the pendant's chain as it swung between his fingers.

"Is that… mine?" I asked, eyes flicking to the rune. "Why do you have it? How did you get in? What is that symbol—?"

Each question tumbled out, faster, more frantic, as my fear started to override the cold shock.

But he didn't even blink. His gaze remained fixed on the rune, as if it was whispering secrets only he could hear.

For a moment, I felt like I didn't exist to him — only the pendant did.

And then, slowly, like he was tasting the moment, he looked back at me — gaze smoldering, unreadable.

Still silent.

But that smirk hadn't left his face.

"Stay away from Leo."

The words sliced through the heavy silence like a blade.

I froze.

Leo?

My chest tightened. "What… what did you just say?"

He tilted his head slightly; eyes still fixed on the glowing rune in the pendant. "You heard me."

"And why should I?" My voice trembled — from fear, yes, but also something else now bubbling beneath the surface. Anger.

He didn't bother to look at me. "Because I told you to."

My jaw clenched. "That's not a reason," I snapped, my voice sharper than I expected.

He finally met my gaze, and something flickered in his expression — amusement? Annoyance? It was impossible to tell beneath that maddening calm.

I didn't know him. I didn't even know his name. And yet he was standing in my room, holding something sacred to me, acting like he had every right to rule my choices.

"I won't," I said firmly, each word laced with defiance. "I won't stay away from Leo. He's the only one I… trust right now."

That did it.

The air around him shifted — not physically, but it felt like gravity twisted inward. His jaw tightened, his posture straightened, and then his eyes — those deep red eyes — flared with something unspoken. Dangerous.

But in that heated moment, I realized something else — my wrists.

The silk tie. It had loosened.

He was too distracted, too smug, too focused on his little power play to notice.

The second he stepped back to pace, I slipped free and stood. My legs trembled slightly, but I didn't care. I needed space. I needed to breathe.

But the moment I moved — he noticed.

His eyes snapped to mine, burning now not just with fire, but fury.

Before I could take another step back, he was already in front of me.

His hand shot out and grabbed my wrist — not violently, but firm enough to make me flinch. The silk of his tie now hung forgotten, but the weight of his grip replaced it just the same.

"Trust," he said lowly, his voice curling with venom and something darker. "You think you can trust him?"

His eyes were glowing — truly glowing now, like molten rubies, pulsing with restrained rage. He leaned in, slowly, deliberately, until I could feel the heat of his breath brush against my cheek.

"He's not who you think he is."

I tried to wrench my hand away. "Why are you doing this?" I snapped, though my voice cracked at the edges. "You break into my room, tie me up with your stupid tie, and now you want to control who I talk to?"

His expression didn't change — only that smirk widened, slow and maddening.

"Why?" I repeated, louder this time. "Why do you care? Who even are you?"

His free hand came up and gripped my other wrist, and he pinned them both above my head with ease, pushing me back against the bedpost. My heart thundered in my chest as I struggled — uselessly.

"Say no one more time," he said darkly, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I dare you."

His tone wasn't a threat. It was a promise, lined with fire and something wickedly intimate.

"Go on, princess," he sneered, his face inches from mine now. "Test me. Say it again, and I swear, I'll cross boundaries even I don't like to touch."

My breath caught — not from fear alone, but from the intensity of it all. The cold fury in his eyes. The heat of his body so close to mine. The way his voice slipped under my skin like silk soaked in poison.

But I couldn't look away.

And I couldn't stop the words that trembled out of me next.

His breath ghosted over my lips now — we were that close. I could see every detail of him in the lightning-lit darkness: the sharp cut of his jaw, the way his dark hair fell over his forehead in perfect chaos, the faint curve of a scar trailing just below his cheekbone.

I hated how perfect he looked.

Or maybe… I hated how it made me feel.

There was fury in his grip, danger in his eyes, but beneath all of that, he was undeniably — painfully — beautiful. Every inch of him radiated that maddening, arrogant bad-boy energy, and despite the chaos crashing around in my chest, I couldn't stop staring.

His lips were so close, it felt like the air between us might shatter if I even breathed too loudly. My skin prickled everywhere he touched, every nerve hyper-aware. My heart screamed for space, for sanity — but something deeper, something reckless and hungry, whispered back: kiss him.

And I nearly did.

Because in that stolen second of charged silence, all I could think about was the way his smirk curved like sin. The way his fingers held me down like I belonged there. The way he looked at me like I was not just a girl — but the girl.

I swallowed hard, my breath catching.

He was still staring at me, eyes burning brighter than ever. He leaned even closer now, his mouth brushing the shell of my ear as he spoke again — his voice like a growl wrapped in silk.

"Still think you can trust him over me, sweetheart?"

My pulse roared.

I didn't answer.

Couldn't.

Because deep inside, something was waking up — something wild.

I didn't answer.

Couldn't.

Because I wasn't even sure what the question meant anymore.

His fingers still held my wrists, firm but no longer painful — now it felt more like a reminder. Of his presence. His power. His nearness.

His lips hovered by my ear, then ghosted lower, brushing the curve of my jaw. I shivered. Not from fear this time… from the anticipation that crawled over my skin like wildfire.

My breath hitched.

He was right there — his face tilted toward mine, his eyes locked onto my lips like he was trying to decide something. His chest rose and fell against mine, and I could feel every beat of it, every breath, like he was syncing with me. Daring me.

"You don't even know what you're drawn to," he murmured, voice low and dangerous. "But you feel it… don't you?"

I swallowed. "You're insane."

His lips twisted in a smirk. "Maybe. But I'm not wrong."

The room spun. The storm outside seemed to vanish. The only thing I could hear was his voice and my own racing heartbeat.

"You want to know who I am?" he said softly, the tips of his fingers brushing down the side of my neck. "Why I'm here?"

He leaned in again, his lips barely a breath away from mine.

"Then stop pretending you're not tempted."

A part of me wanted to slap him — the arrogance, the audacity. But another part of me… the part buried deep beneath years of cold silence and loneliness… that part wanted to close the distance and taste the danger.

"Tell me," I whispered, voice shaking.

But he didn't.

He only stared at me for a long, unbearable second, like he could see right through me — every secret, every weakness, every flicker of curiosity I tried so hard to bury.

And then, just when I thought he might finally kiss me — he let go.

Backed away.

Just like that.

His touch vanished, and I almost stumbled forward from the loss of it.

He stood a step away now, eyes still molten red, lips curved in a satisfied smirk.

"You'll figure it out soon enough," he said, voice casual but dripping with something darker.

I stood frozen, pulse still pounding, breath shaky

He turned toward the window as if the storm had summoned him, ready to slip away like smoke through my fingers.

But I couldn't let him go.

Without thinking, my hand shot out, grasping his wrist — the warmth of his skin burning through the cool silk of his shirt. "Wait," I breathed, voice trembling.

He froze, eyes snapping back to mine — red and fierce and impossibly close.

For a heartbeat, the world held still between us, charged and fragile.

"Stay," I whispered, the word barely audible, but heavy with everything I couldn't say.

His smirk softened just a fraction, but his gaze stayed sharp, unreadable.

And then, slowly, deliberately, he leaned back toward me — not quite closing the distance, but close enough that I could feel the heat of his breath, the promise of something dangerous just beneath the surface.

His eyes flickered with amusement, like he was playing with a flame he knew could burn him — or me. "You don't know what you're asking for," he said lowly, his voice a silk thread pulling tighter around my chest.

I swallowed hard, my heartbeat thundering loud enough to drown out the rain outside. The closeness between us was dizzying, the scent of him — something sharp, like leather and smoke — weaving through the heavy air.

"You shouldn't want me to stay," he whispered, voice rough but teasing, "but here you are."

My fingers tightened around his wrist, unwilling to let go despite every warning screaming in my mind. For a moment, it felt like everything was suspended — like the storm outside was nothing compared to the tempest swirling inside this room.

And then, as if drawn by some invisible force, our faces edged closer — too close to resist, too dangerous to ignore.

His smirk faltered for the briefest instant, the sharpness in his gaze melting into something darker… and almost tender.

"Don't be fooled," he murmured against my lips, "I'm no prince"

His smirk faltered for the briefest instant, the sharpness in his gaze melting into something darker… but then I found my voice.

"I don't want a prince to come save me," I said firmly, heart pounding. "I'm good on my own."

He laughed—deep, low, and amused—as if my words were the sweetest challenge. "Ah, not in your dreams, babygirl," he teased, eyes glittering with that cruel charm. "You think you're alone, but I'm already part of your story."

He leaned back just enough to break the tension but kept that wicked smile playing on his lips, as if daring me to believe otherwise.

The room felt charged, every breath between us heavy with something unspoken — a promise or a threat, maybe both.

Neither of us moved closer, but the air was thick enough to cut with a knife.

I swallowed hard, voice trembling. "Why are you here? How are you connected to me?"

He didn't answer right away. Instead, a slow, dangerous smirk curled on his lips as he looked down at the pendant in his hand.

"Connected?" he echoed, his voice low and teasing. "You have no idea how deep this runs."

His eyes locked onto mine, dark and unreadable. Then, leaning closer, he whispered, "But trust me, you don't want to know everything just yet."

he air between us thickened, charged with something I couldn't name—fear, curiosity, something darker. His gaze didn't waver, daring me to push further, but I hesitated. There was something magnetic about him, even as my instincts screamed to run.

"Tell me," I demanded, voice firmer despite the tremble inside. "What do you want from me?"

He chuckled softly, like I'd asked the sweetest question and the answer was a secret meant only for him.

"What I want... is you to understand that the past you've been hiding from isn't done with you yet. And neither am I."

He straightened, that cruel, confident smile lingering. "This game has only just begun, princess."

His words echoed in the quiet room, leaving me trembling—not just with fear, but with something more complicated. Something that made me feel like I was being pulled toward him, even though I knew I should run.