Episode 2
1942 Words
I didn’t remember choosing him, but my body did.
Even now, two years later, it reacted like it belonged to him, as if something inside me had already decided long before I understood what was happening. He haunted me in ways I couldn’t explain, slipping into my dreams like a memory that refused to fade, leaving behind feelings far too real to ignore.
“Say it.”
His voice curled around me, low and commanding, his breath warm against my neck as he pressed me firmly against the wall, his body caging mine in completely. My heart pounded uncontrollably, every part of me aware of him, of how close he was, of how easily he could take control of everything. My thoughts scattered, slipping through my grasp as sensation replaced logic.
“I… I…” The words wouldn’t come, dissolving somewhere between fear and something far more dangerous, something that made my chest tighten instead of recoil.
A low, frustrated growl vibrated through him, the sound sending a sharp shiver down my spine.
“I said say it, Elara,” he repeated, his tone dropping into something heavier, more dangerous, his grip tightening slightly as if he was losing patience with me, as if my hesitation meant something to him.
His lips found my neck again, relentless, almost punishing, like he was trying to drag the truth out of me himself. My fingers tightened in his hair without thinking, my breath breaking as he pressed closer, leaving no space between us, no room to breathe, no room to think.
“Tell me,” he murmured against my skin, his voice rough, laced with something that made my stomach twist, “what have you learned?”
My chest rose and fell rapidly, my thoughts completely overwhelmed by him, by the way he made me feel like I was slipping out of my own control. “That… I’m yours,” I whispered, the words trembling out of me, even as something inside me tightened at how easily they came.
“Louder,” he demanded, lifting me effortlessly, pressing me harder against the wall, like he needed to hear it, like it wasn’t enough until I gave it to him properly.
“I’m yours,” I said again, stronger this time, my voice still shaking but clearer now, my fingers gripping him tighter as if I needed him just as much as he needed the answer. “Only yours.”
And just as the words settled, everything shattered.
“Elara! Wake up!”
The world snapped back violently, my body jerking forward as I gasped for air, my heart racing like I had been running for miles. The warmth, the pressure, his touch, it all vanished instantly, leaving behind nothing but the cold reality of the shop and the dull ache in my chest where something had been moments before.
“What… what happened?” I muttered, blinking rapidly as Kali pulled his hands away from me, a half-smile on his face like he found my reaction more amusing than concerning.
“You were sleeping again,” he said, shaking his head slowly, though there was a hint of concern behind his teasing tone as he looked me over. “You looked like you were fighting someone in your dreams.”
If only he knew.
I rubbed my eyes, trying to steady my breathing, but the feeling lingered, stubborn and suffocating, like it refused to let go of me. “I’m fine,” I said quickly, even though my voice came out softer than I intended.
“You don’t look fine,” Kali replied, his expression shifting slightly as he leaned against the counter, watching me more closely now. “You look exhausted, like you haven’t rested properly in days.”
Because I haven’t.
Because every time I sleep, he’s there.
And I don’t even know who he is.
“It’s nothing,” I said, brushing it off as I stood, avoiding his gaze because I knew if I held it, he’d see right through me. “Just tired.”
Kali didn’t look convinced, but he let it go, his eyes flickering toward the mirror instead. “Your neck,” he added, nodding slightly toward it.
A quiet frustration settled over me as I turned toward my reflection. The mark was still there, just as clear, just as stubborn, like it had no intention of ever leaving me.
It hadn’t faded.
Not even slightly.
The strange imprint curved along my skin like it belonged there, dark and deliberate, a single letter etched into me in a way that made no sense.
L.
My fingers lifted instinctively, brushing over it, and the moment I made contact, that familiar sensation returned, like something beneath my skin reacting, alive in a way it shouldn’t be. I pulled my hand away quickly, my pulse quickening.
“It’s still there?” Kali asked, his voice quieter now, more curious than before.
“Yes,” I muttered, frustration tightening my chest as I stared at it. “It just appeared, I didn’t do this, and I don’t know how it even got there.”
“You know people are talking,” he said carefully, watching me like he was trying to measure how much it affected me.
“I know,” I snapped, sharper than I intended, my jaw tightening as I turned away from the mirror. “They always are.”
The walk home only made it worse. Every step felt heavier under the weight of their stares, their whispers following me like shadows that refused to detach.
“She marked herself.”
“Desperate.”
“Shameless.”
Each word pressed into me, not because I believed them, but because I was tired of hearing them, tired of being watched, judged, reduced to something I didn’t even understand myself.
Until I stopped.
“You want attention that badly?” one of the men called out, his voice loud enough to draw more attention, his smirk making something in me snap.
Slowly, I turned toward them, my expression calm, controlled, even as irritation burned beneath it. “Are you talking to me?” I asked, tilting my head slightly, my tone light, but my eyes anything but.
They smirked, encouraged by their own stupidity.
That was enough.
I stepped closer, my movements deliberate, each step measured as I let a faint smile touch my lips, one that didn’t reach my eyes. “You want something from me?” I asked softly, watching their confidence grow, watching them think they had control.
They didn’t.
The first punch landed before they could react.
The rest followed just as quickly.
By the time I stepped back, they were on the ground, groaning, their arrogance replaced with shock and pain. The crowd around us had gone silent, watching, waiting.
“Next time,” I said coldly, brushing invisible dust from my hands as I looked down at them, “watch your mouth before it gets you hurt.”
I turned and walked away without waiting for a response, my heartbeat still heavy, but steady.
But then something shifted.
The air changed.
Too quiet.
Too still.
And before I could react, an arm wrapped around me from behind.
Panic surged instantly, sharp and suffocating, my wrists pinned, my mouth covered before I could even scream. My heart slammed violently against my ribs as I struggled, twisting, fighting, but his grip only tightened, stronger, unyielding.
“I’ve been watching you,” he whispered against my ear, his breath making my skin crawl. “You’re even better up close than I imagined.”
Fear flooded through me, thick and choking, my body reacting on instinct, but there was no one around, no one to help, no one to hear me.
“Relax,” he muttered, his grip tightening further as I struggled. “You’ll like it.”
No.
I won’t.
“Think carefully before touching what’s mine,” a voice cut through the air, low, calm, and far more dangerous than anything else in that moment.
Everything stopped.
The grip on me vanished instantly, like it had never been there, my body stumbling forward as I caught myself, turning sharply, my breath uneven, my heart still racing.
And then I saw them.
Those eyes.
Bright.
Red.
Familiar.
My breath caught in my throat, my chest tightening painfully as recognition hit me all at once.
It was him.
The man from my dreams.
The man who had haunted every restless night, every thought I couldn’t escape.
He was real.
The man who had grabbed me didn’t even get a chance to scream properly before he was dragged away, his voice cutting off abruptly, swallowed by something I couldn’t see.
Silence followed.
Just like always.
I stood there, frozen, my chest rising and falling too fast, my mind struggling to catch up to what had just happened.
He came again.
He always does.
Why?
Why me?
The questions burned inside me, but the answer that followed was the one I couldn’t accept.
Because I matter to him.
And I don’t know why.
By the time I reached home, my thoughts were still tangled, my chest still tight, my mind still stuck on those eyes.
The moment I stepped inside, something felt wrong, too quiet, too controlled, like the air itself was holding its breath.
“Elara,” my mother called, her voice overly pleasant, the kind that never meant anything good.
I stepped forward slowly and stopped.
They were all there.
Waiting.
Like I had no choice in what came next.
“What is this?” I asked, my voice sharper now, my gaze moving from one face to another, trying to understand what I was walking into.
My father smiled, but there was no warmth in it, only calculation. “We’ve arranged your marriage,” he said calmly, as if he were announcing something normal, something expected, as if he hadn’t just dropped something that would change my life completely.
My chest tightened instantly. “No,” I said, the word coming out firm, even as something inside me twisted.
“It’s already decided,” he replied, his tone steady, his eyes hard as they locked onto mine, silently daring me to challenge him.
“No,” I repeated, stronger this time, stepping forward slightly, my hands clenching at my sides as anger began to rise. “You don’t get to decide that for me.”
“It’s for your future,” he said, his voice calm, but his expression tightening slightly, like my resistance was beginning to irritate him, like I was already stepping out of line.
“For your profit,” I shot back immediately, my voice sharper now, my gaze unwavering as I stared at him, refusing to back down.
The room shifted, tension thickening instantly, but I didn’t care.
“I’m not marrying him,” I continued, my voice steady despite the way my chest rose and fell. “Not now, not ever, I don’t care what arrangements you’ve made.”
Silence followed, heavy and suffocating, every eye on me.
And then a low familiar voice crept up behind me.
“Then you won’t,” it said quietly, but the weight of it hit harder than anything else in that room.
My entire body went still.
My breath caught as something cold and electric ran down my spine.
Because I knew that voice.
I knew it.
Slowly, I turned, my heart pounding harder with every second, expecting, hoping, but no one was there.
Only the faintest movement near the window.
And those eyes.
Watching me.
Claiming me.
Like I had never really been free.
- Writer
