Chapter 4_A Taste in the Dark
381 Words
Evi lay in bed with the lights off, her window cracked open. The night breeze kissed her skin, but it wasn’t enough to cool the heat pooling inside her chest.
She was restless. Aching.
Lucien’s name was a whisper in her mind.
His voice still lingered on her skin.
And that look—those burning eyes—haunted her.
> “Next time, I might not stop myself from touching you…”
She shivered.
She didn’t know him. But she felt him—like his presence was stitched into her bones. It scared her how much she wanted to see him again.
It scared her more that she wanted him to not stop.
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She drifted into sleep.
And that’s when it began.
She stood in the mist. Alone. Barefoot, her skin glowing under the moonlight. The fog wrapped around her like silk, cool and teasing.
And then—
Hands.
Strong, cold, sliding around her waist.
> “You dream of me now…” Lucien’s voice was low and dangerous behind her ear. “You shouldn’t.”
Evi turned to face him—but the dream blurred. He was shadow and shape, all sharp lines and heat. His lips brushed her jaw, and her knees weakened.
> “Tell me to stop,” he murmured.
She didn’t.
Instead, she reached for him—gripping the front of his shirt, pulling him close. Her breath hitched as his hand slid up her back, his thumb grazing the bare curve of her neck.
> “You taste like fire,” he whispered, his mouth at her throat.
She gasped—his lips ghosted over her skin, not biting, just… teasing. Her pulse was racing, and in that moment, she wanted him to break her. Burn her. Own her.
And then—
> She woke up.
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Heart pounding. Sheets tangled.
A soft breeze from the window brushed her cheek.
She sat up, dazed, breathless.
And then she saw it:
A single black rose on her windowsill. Dew still fresh.
And a note tucked beneath it.
In dark, elegant handwriting:
> "Some dreams aren’t just dreams. – L”
Evi’s hands trembled. She stared at the rose, throat dry.
Lucien had been here.
He hadn’t just haunted her dreams.
He’d touched her reality.
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