EMBERREACH: ASHBOUND

Chapter 5: Not the First

Rhea did not reply.

She turned her phone face-down on the desk as if that alone could sever whatever invisible thread connected her to Marcus Vale. Her pulse pounded in her ears, each beat echoing the same thought over and over.

He’s watching me think.

The idea was almost worse than being watched physically. It meant he wasn’t reacting—he was anticipating.

Rhea pushed back from the desk and stood, pacing the length of her apartment. The walls felt closer than they had an hour ago, the air heavier. She forced herself to breathe slowly, deliberately, the way she’d learned during a brief, ill-advised stint with a mindfulness app.

In through the nose.

Out through the mouth.

It didn’t help.

She grabbed her jacket and keys. Staying still felt like surrender, and she refused to let fear root her to the spot. If Marcus Vale was monitoring her digitally, then she needed to change the environment. Noise. Movement. Variables he couldn’t fully predict.

The street was alive when she stepped outside—cars passing, people talking, the city doing what it always did. Rhea walked fast, head up, senses stretched tight. Every reflection in a window made her flinch. Every man who glanced her way earned a second look.

She told herself she was being ridiculous.

She also knew she wasn’t.

She ducked into a crowded convenience store and lingered near the back, pretending to browse while she watched the front door in the reflection of the freezer glass. People came and went. None of them were Marcus.

Her phone vibrated in her pocket.

Rhea ignored it.

It vibrated again.

She cursed under her breath and pulled it out, bracing herself.

Not Marcus.

Mara:

I’m outside your building. You didn’t answer.

Rhea exhaled sharply, relief loosening the tight knot in her chest. She typed back quickly.

> I stepped out. Meet me at the corner store on 8th.

Three dots appeared almost immediately.

> On my way. Don’t move.

Rhea paid for a bottle of water she didn’t need and waited by the window, forcing herself to stay visible. When Mara burst through the door five minutes later, cheeks flushed and eyes sharp, Rhea nearly sagged with relief.

“You scared the hell out of me,” Mara said, pulling her into a quick, fierce hug. “You don’t vanish right now. Not with everything going on.”

“I needed air,” Rhea replied, voice muffled against Mara’s shoulder. “And witnesses.”

Mara pulled back, studying her face. “He texted again, didn’t he?”

Rhea nodded.

They walked together, staying on well-lit streets, talking just enough to keep the panic from creeping back in. By the time they reached Rhea’s building, Mara was already on her phone, scrolling furiously.

“I’ve been thinking,” Mara said. “About what you said. About him not having a past.”

“That’s not the part that scares you?” Rhea asked dryly.

“It all scares me,” Mara replied. “But the way you described him—it reminded me of something.”

Rhea’s stomach tightened. “What?”

Mara stopped at the base of the steps and looked at her, expression serious. “A woman I met last year. At the shelter.”

Rhea stilled. “You never told me that.”

“Because it didn’t seem relevant until now,” Mara said. “She came in shaken, paranoid. Said a man had been following her. Knew things he shouldn’t. She kept saying he wasn’t trying to scare her—that he was deciding something.”

Rhea felt cold all over.

“What happened to her?” she asked quietly.

Mara hesitated.

“She disappeared,” she said.

The word landed like a physical blow.

“Disappeared how?” Rhea pressed.

“No report,” Mara said. “No missing person filed. She told the staff she was leaving town. Said it was safer that way.”

“And?”

“And no one ever heard from her again.”

Rhea swallowed hard. “Did she describe him?”

Mara nodded slowly. “Tall. Dark hair. Calm. Polite. Said he smiled like he already knew the ending.”

Rhea’s vision tunneled.

They went upstairs in silence. Once inside, Rhea locked the door and leaned against it, legs trembling.

“I’m not crazy,” she whispered.

“No,” Mara agreed. “You’re not.”

Rhea crossed the apartment and picked up her phone again, dread coiling tight. If there had been one woman before her…

She opened her messages.

A new one waited.

Marcus Vale:

You’re not the first to notice the pattern.

Her throat closed.

Another message followed immediately:

Most don’t realize it in time.

Rhea’s fingers shook as she stared at the screen.

“What does he mean?” Mara asked softly from behind her.

Rhea didn’t answer right away. She scrolled.

One more message appeared.

There were others before you, Rhea.

Her breath caught.

Some resisted.

A pause.

Some didn’t.

Rhea’s chest tightened painfully as the truth slid into place, sharp and undeniable.

Marcus Vale hadn’t been watching her.

He had been doing this for a while.

And she wasn’t even close to being his first choice.