Chapter 9 — What the Darkness Took
468 Words
The room was quiet now, but the silence wasn’t peace—it was aftermath.
Emilia lay tangled in the sheets, her bare skin cooling against the unfamiliar bed, every inch of her marked by him. Her body still hummed with the memory of his touch, but her mind was a battlefield.
What had she done?
Across the room, he stood by the window, shirtless, cigarette in hand, the smoke curling around his face like a mask. Shadows clung to him like he was made of them.
He hadn’t spoken since they fell apart hours ago, sweat and breath and bruised lips.
She watched his back—broad, scarred, carved by a life he never talked about.
“Do you regret it?” she asked finally, her voice quieter than she intended.
He didn’t turn around. “Do you?”
She pulled the sheets tighter around her. “That’s not an answer.”
“No,” he said after a beat. “But it should be.”
He flicked the cigarette out the window and finally turned to face her. His eyes were darker than before. Guarded. Dangerous. Like something in him had shifted—and not in her favor.
“What happens now?” she asked.
He stared at her like he didn’t recognize her. Like she was something fragile he didn’t mean to break.
“You leave,” he said. “And you don’t come back.”
The words struck harder than any slap.
She sat up, her heart freefalling. “What?”
His jaw clenched. “You were a mistake, Emilia. I should’ve never touched you.”
“No,” she whispered, fury rising like a scream in her chest. “You don’t get to do that. Not after last night. Not after everything.”
He stepped closer, but his face was ice.
“Last night was weakness. Mine. Don’t make it more than that.”
She stood, letting the sheet fall to the floor. “You think you’re protecting me?”
“I know I am.”
She laughed bitterly. “From what? You? Or whatever secret you’re still too much of a coward to tell me?”
A flash of something flickered in his eyes—pain, guilt, something ancient and broken.
“You don’t want to know what I’ve done.”
“Try me.”
He didn’t speak.
Didn’t move.
And that silence told her everything.
She shook her head, stepping back like he’d hit her. “Coward.”
But as she gathered her things, one thought drowned out the rest:
She hadn’t imagined the way he touched her. The way he held her like she was the only thing that kept him tethered to this world.
Which meant something else was coming. Something darker.
And whatever it was, it had already started.
- Writer
