Chapter 9_Stay
464 Words
The moon was full.
And Evi was restless.
Again.
She tossed and turned, fingers tangled in the edge of her blanket, trying to push the images of Lucien out of her head.
But it wasn’t working.
His voice lingered.
> “Don’t run.”
“If you do, I’ll chase you.”
His scent lingered — something like firewood, leather, and night rain.
And the worst part?
She didn’t want to run.
She wanted him to come.
---
Sometime past midnight, the wind shifted.
The room grew colder.
She sat up slowly, heart drumming.
> “Lucien…?”
No answer.
Just silence.
And then — a soft creak at the window.
She turned.
And there he was.
Perched like a shadow on her windowsill, backlit by moonlight, eyes glowing faintly red.
Her breath hitched.
He didn’t ask permission.
Didn’t wait.
He stepped inside like the night belonged to him.
> “What are you doing here?” she whispered, barely able to speak.
> “You were thinking about me.”
He walked closer, and the closer he got, the harder it became to breathe.
> “You can’t just break in.”
> “I didn’t break. You left the window unlocked.”
> “Still—”
> “Say you want me to leave,” he said, voice velvet and threat.
She opened her mouth… but the words wouldn’t come.
Lucien tilted his head.
> “That’s what I thought.”
And then he was in front of her. At the edge of the bed. Kneeling.
Not touching.
Just watching her fall apart from his presence alone.
> “You’re playing with fire, Evi,” he whispered. “And I haven’t fed in days.”
Her body tensed, her heart racing — with fear, but also something deeper.
> “Would you hurt me?” she asked.
> “No,” he said. “But I’d make you beg.”
His hand reached up — fingers brushing her wrist. Slowly. Reverently.
> “You smell like hunger,” he murmured.
> “You’re the one who’s hungry.”
> “Exactly.”
He leaned in — breath brushing her lips. Not kissing. Not yet.
> “Do you want me to stay?” he asked.
Silence.
Her chest rose and fell in short, panicked breaths.
She should say no.
Should push him away.
But instead…
She nodded.
---
Lucien climbed onto the bed beside her, slowly — a predator stalking its prize — and lay back beside her without a word.
Not touching.
Just close.
So close her body vibrated with tension.
> “Goodnight, little flame,” he whispered, eyes glowing. “Try not to dream too loud. Or I might not behave.”
She didn’t sleep at all.
---
- Writer
