I stood somewhere unfamiliar—his cabin, maybe, but warmer somehow, softer, like the world had blurred its sharp edges just for me. The firelight danced on the walls, flickering shadows, and when I turned, he was there.
Zed.
His eyes locked on mine, calm but intense, as if he’d been waiting for me.
My breath caught. “What are you doing here?” I asked, but my voice came out softer, almost a whisper, like I wasn’t sure I wanted an answer.
He didn’t speak. He just stepped closer, his boots silent on the wooden floor. And suddenly I couldn’t move. My feet felt glued in place, my heart pounding too hard for my chest to hold.
“You shouldn’t be here,” I managed to say, though it sounded weak, almost pleading.
“Why not?” he asked, his voice low.
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Becau
