UNINVITED PREDATOR
807 Words
The soft creak of the balcony door jolted Elara awake.
Her eyes darted to the clock—2:47 AM. She froze. She always locked that door.
Grabbing the knife from her nightstand, she crept toward the living room, barefoot and heartbeat hammering. Her pulse pounded louder when she saw him.
Aiden.
He was leaning casually against the railing, shirt sleeves rolled up, his broad frame half-lit by the city lights.
“What the hell are you doing in my apartment?” Her voice came out sharper than she intended.
Aiden turned slowly, and her stomach knotted at the way his eyes—dark, calculating—trailed over her. She’d forgotten she was still wearing only a silk nightgown, and the awareness prickled her skin.
“You left the door unlocked.”
The hell she did.
“Liar,” she hissed, gripping the knife tighter.
He took a step inside.
“Stay right there!” She raised the knife, her hand trembling. “Get out, or I’ll call the police.”
Aiden’s gaze dropped to the blade before snapping back to her eyes. He didn’t stop.
“I said—”
He moved faster than she thought possible, crossing the room in three long strides. Before she could react, his hand closed over her wrist, forcing the knife down.
“Let me go!” she gasped, twisting against him, but his grip was unyielding.
“Do it,” he said, voice low and steady. “Call the police.”
Her free hand darted for her phone on the counter, but Aiden knocked it away. It clattered to the floor, and he spun her, pinning her back against the wall.
“Let me go!” Her voice cracked this time, but he didn’t move.
“You want to call the cops? Fine.” His breath was hot against her ear. “Call them. Tell them a man broke in to protect you from something you’re too naive to see coming.”
Her chest heaved. “Protect me from what?”
Aiden’s eyes softened—just for a moment—but the shadow returned as quickly as it had faded.
“From men worse than me.”
He was talking nonsense.
“Get off me,” Elara said, shoving at his chest.
This time, Aiden released her, stepping back with calculated slowness.
Her phone was still on the floor, but the thought of grabbing it felt ridiculous now. She wanted answers—needed them—but the fear still gripped her throat.
“Who the hell are you?”
Aiden’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Someone who’s already saved your life once.”
“What are you talking about?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he picked up her phone, set it on the counter, and turned toward the door.
“Wait—”
“Lock it this time.”
Her frustration snapped. “You think you can just walk in here, scare the hell out of me, and leave without explaining anything?”
He paused, hand on the doorknob. “You need to be careful, Elara. This isn’t over.”
The moment he was gone, Elara lunged for her phone.
She should call the police. She should.
Instead, she stared at the screen, thumb hovering over the numbers. What the hell would she even tell them? That a man she couldn’t stop thinking about had just pinned her against a wall and warned her about invisible enemies?
They’d think she was insane.
And maybe she was, because her skin still tingled where he’d touched her, and the memory of his voice still crawled under her skin.
The phone buzzed.
Unknown Number: Don’t trust him.
Her stomach dropped.
Elara: Who is this?
No response.
She locked the door, then double-checked it, pressing her forehead against the wood.
What had she gotten herself into?
~~~~~~~~~~
The room felt suffocating, but Elara didn’t dare leave. She sat in bed with the knife back on her nightstand and the phone clutched tightly in her hand.
She should have been afraid—really afraid—but something about Aiden gnawed at her.
Not just fear. Need.
The way he’d looked at her—like she was something he wasn’t sure he deserved to touch but couldn’t stop himself from wanting—had awakened something she’d buried for years.
But that didn’t make it okay.
Her phone buzzed again, and she nearly dropped it.
Unknown Number: You need to run.
The blood drained from her face.
Elara: From who?
No response.
Tears welled in her eyes, but she forced them back. She wouldn’t break—not over this. She wouldn’t let Aiden or whoever was messing with her see how much they’d rattled her.
But as the night stretched on, and the shadows refused to leave, she wondered if it was already too late.
- Writer
