HAUNTED BY HIM

The night I found the city-that-doesn’t-exist, I wasn’t looking for it. I was just trying to disappear. The highway stretched behind me in broken ribbons, each step carrying me further from the world that had already written me off as cursed. My backpack was nearly empty, stuffed only with a change of clothes, a cracked phone, and a photo of a family I never truly belonged to. My jacket was damp with rain, my hair clinging to my face, and my shoes were so worn they had holes in the soles. But worse than the cold, worse than the hunger gnawing at my belly, was the weight of memory pressing against my ribs. The fire. The smoke. The house that burned while I walked out alive, untouched. They said I shouldn’t have survived. That night, the world whispered that I wasn’t supposed to exist anymore. Selene Ward doesn’t die, the whispers went. But everything around her does. So when I saw the alley—narrow, crooked, slotted between two skyscrapers like a scar that hadn’t healed—I didn’t hesitate. The city wasn’t supposed to have an alley here. Yesterday, I’d passed this street. There had been nothing but glass and concrete. Tonight, there was a way in. I should’ve ignored it. I should’ve kept walking. Instead, I turned and stepped into the shadows. The air changed instantly. It grew thick, like smoke without fire, clinging to my lungs. The hum of the city dulled, replaced by silence so sharp it rang in my ears. Neon lights bled red instead of white, buzzing faintly overhead. I checked my phone. The screen flickered, then went black. Signal gone. GPS lost. The arrow spun in endless circles as though the map itself refused to place me. A chill brushed my skin, raising goosebumps. It wasn’t just the cold. It was something else. Something unseen. It felt like fingers dragging slowly down my spine. I spun around. The mouth of the alley had vanished. Behind me was a wall of brick where open street had been. “Shit.” My whisper echoed too loudly. That was when I saw the window. A broken storefront lay ahead, its glass jagged like teeth. My reflection shimmered in the shards, but it wasn’t only me staring back. He was there. Tall, broad, shoulders straight as a blade. His presence filled the space behind me though no one stood there. His hair was black as a raven’s wing, falling over a face carved in cruel perfection. Eyes like molten silver caught the light and held it, burning with something colder than hatred and sharper than desire. He smiled. And every nerve in my body screamed. I turned sharply. The alley was empty. When I looked back, he leaned closer in the glass. And then, impossibly, the mirror rippled like water, and he stepped out. My breath froze in my lungs. He moved like smoke given shape, blurred at the edges, yet solid enough to make the ground tremble under his boots. His presence swallowed the space between us until I could taste him in the air—ash, iron, and the sharp bite of something otherworldly. Before I could scream, he was already on me. A hand shot out, wrapping around my throat. Cold as death, hard as stone, it lifted me to my toes, pinning me against the shattered window. I gasped, clawing at his grip. My nails scraped his skin, but it was like trying to scratch smoke—there and not there. “Ah,” he murmured, his voice low, vibrating through my bones. “So this is the little mortal who wandered into my city.” My pulse thundered in my ears. I tried to force words past his grip. “Let… me… go.” He chuckled, a sound dark and velvety, wrapping around me like smoke. “You have fire. Good. It makes breaking you all the more… satisfying.” He eased his grip slightly, enough for me to drag in a breath, though his thumb pressed firmly against the racing beat of my pulse. His silver eyes narrowed, studying me like prey that had stepped willingly into the hunter’s den. “Who the hell are you?” I rasped. His smile curved, slow and wicked. “Names are chains, little mortal. Mine has bound kingdoms, slaughtered armies, burned angels from the sky. But for you—” his head tilted, shadows rippling at his shoulders “—you may call me Kaelen.” The way he said it made my skin crawl. It wasn’t just a name. It was a promise. I swallowed, refusing to let fear show. “I don’t belong here. Let me out.” He leaned in, close enough that his cold breath brushed the shell of my ear. “Don’t belong?” His grip tightened just enough to steal my air. “Oh, you belong here more than anyone. This city was waiting for you.” The world around us seemed to pulse in agreement. Streetlamps flickered violently, shadows stretched and shivered. Kaelen’s hand slid from my throat to my jaw, tilting my face up to meet his gaze. The silver in his eyes glowed, catching the dim light, and for a moment I thought I saw fire dancing there. “You carry a mark,” he whispered, his words brushing against my lips like a secret. “Old. Cursed. Beautiful. Did you think I wouldn’t feel it the moment you stepped into my streets?” My heart slammed in my chest. “I don’t know what the f**k you’re talking about.” Kaelen’s grin widened, sharp as broken glass. He pressed his forehead against mine. His skin was ice, but my flesh burned at the contact. “You will,” he promised, voice dripping with cruel certainty. “And when you do, you’ll beg me to take you. To end you. To own you.” A bitter laugh bubbled from my throat despite the terror coiling inside me. “Nightmares don’t scare me.” His answering smile was devastating. “Good. Because I am not your nightmare, Selene.” Hearing my name on his lips knocked the air from me. I hadn’t told him. He shouldn’t know. He bent, lips grazing my ear, voice a whisper of shadows. “I am the thing nightmares run from.” And then—he was gone. The weight vanished from my throat. The alley fell silent again. The window reflected only my own pale, trembling face. But when I touched my neck, a faint burn lingered where his hand had been. A mark, invisible to the eye but searing against my skin, as if it had been branded into my soul. Somewhere in the silence, I thought I heard him laugh. And I knew—whatever Kaelen was, he wasn’t finished with me. Not even close.