Chapter 10: What It Left Behind
1607 Words
I couldn’t sleep.
Every time I closed my eyes—
I heard it.
“…Soon…”
The word echoed in my mind like a curse that refused to fade.
I sat up in bed, my fingers gripping the sheets tightly.
The room was dark.
Too quiet.
Too still.
Like the world was holding its breath.
Waiting.
My chest tightened.
The mark on my collarbone pulsed faintly, like a reminder that none of this was over.
Not even close.
A soft knock broke the silence.
I froze.
Then—
“It’s me.”
Arsen.
Of course it was.
Who else would come at this hour?
“Come in,” I said, my voice quieter than I intended.
The door opened slowly.
He stepped inside, closing it behind him with a soft click.
For a moment—
He didn’t say anything.
Just stood there.
Watching me.
Like he was checking something.
Making sure I was still… me.
“You’re not asleep,” he finally said.
I let out a small breath.
“Clearly.”
His gaze shifted briefly to my collarbone.
To the mark.
It glowed faintly in the dark.
His jaw tightened.
“It’s stronger,” he said.
Not a question.
A statement.
I nodded slowly.
“It hurts more too.”
That part—I hadn’t planned to admit.
But hiding things from him felt… pointless.
He stepped closer.
Close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from him.
“Let me see.”
I hesitated.
Just for a second.
Then pulled the fabric of my shirt slightly aside.
The mark was darker now.
More defined.
The shape no longer blurred or soft.
It looked…
Intentional.
Like it belonged there.
Like it had always been part of me.
Arsen’s expression darkened.
“That’s not just a bond mark anymore,” he said quietly.
A chill ran down my spine.
“What does that mean?”
“It means,” he said slowly, “whatever that thing was… it didn’t just find you.”
His eyes met mine.
“It marked you back.”
My breath caught.
“That’s not possible.”
“It shouldn’t be,” he agreed.
“But it happened.”
Silence fell between us.
Heavy.
Uncomfortable.
Dangerous.
I pulled my shirt back into place, suddenly feeling exposed.
Like something invisible was watching me.
Waiting.
“So what now?” I asked.
“For now?” he said.
“You stay where I can see you.”
I blinked.
“That sounds a lot like house arrest.”
“That sounds like survival,” he corrected.
I frowned.
“I’m not weak, Arsen.”
“I know.”
“Then stop treating me like I am.”
His gaze sharpened.
“I’m not treating you like you’re weak.”
He stepped closer.
Too close.
“I’m treating you like you’re a target.”
That—
Shut me up.
Because he wasn’t wrong.
And I hated that.
“I can’t just sit here and do nothing,” I muttered.
“You won’t,” he said.
My eyes flicked up to his.
“What does that mean?”
“It means,” he said, his tone shifting slightly, “if that thing comes back—and it will—we need to be ready.”
My heart skipped.
“Ready how?”
His expression didn’t change.
“You need to learn.”
“Learn what?”
“How to survive something that wants to own you.”
My stomach dropped.
“That’s not exactly comforting.”
“It’s not supposed to be.”
Of course it wasn’t.
Nothing about this was.
I looked away, running a hand through my hair.
“This is insane,” I whispered.
“A few days ago, I was just…”
“Just what?” he asked.
“Normal.”
The word felt strange in my mouth now.
Like it didn’t belong to me anymore.
Arsen didn’t respond immediately.
When I looked back at him—
His expression had softened.
Just slightly.
“You were never normal,” he said.
I blinked.
“That’s not reassuring.”
“It wasn’t meant to be,” he said dryly.
Despite everything—
I almost smiled.
Almost.
Then the memory hit me again.
The hallway.
The fight.
The moment he—
“You were hurt,” I said suddenly.
His expression shifted.
Barely.
But I saw it.
“I’m fine.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one you’re getting.”
I narrowed my eyes.
“Let me see.”
“No.”
“Arsen—”
“No.”
I stood up.
Ignoring the slight dizziness that came with it.
“You don’t get to check on me and then refuse when I do the same.”
“That’s exactly how this works.”
I stepped closer.
“So you can order me around, but I can’t even make sure you’re okay?”
“Yes.”
I stared at him.
“You’re unbelievable.”
“I’ve been told that.”
I exhaled sharply.
Then—
Without asking—
I reached for him.
My fingers brushing against his side.
He stiffened instantly.
“Don’t—”
Too late.
I felt it.
The tension.
The pain he was hiding.
And when I pushed his jacket aside slightly—
I saw the blood.
Still fresh.
Still there.
“Arsen…”
His jaw clenched.
“It’s nothing.”
“That’s not nothing.”
“It’ll heal.”
“That’s not the point!”
My voice came out sharper than I intended.
Louder.
More desperate.
Because seeing him like this—
It did something to me.
Something I wasn’t ready to understand.
“You could have died,” I said quietly.
His gaze dropped to mine.
“So could you.”
“That’s different.”
“It’s not.”
“It is to me.”
The words slipped out before I could stop them.
Before I could think.
Silence.
Thick.
Heavy.
His eyes didn’t leave mine.
“Why?” he asked.
One word.
But it carried weight.
Too much weight.
I swallowed.
“I don’t know,” I admitted.
And that was the truth.
I didn’t know why my chest tightened when he was hurt.
Didn’t know why the idea of losing him felt—
Wrong.
All I knew was—
It did.
Something shifted in his expression.
Something I couldn’t quite read.
But it wasn’t anger.
Wasn’t frustration.
It was…
Dangerous.
“You should sleep,” he said suddenly, stepping back.
The change was abrupt.
Too abrupt.
Like he was pulling away.
From me.
From this.
“I’m not tired.”
“You will be.”
“I won’t.”
“You’re arguing again.”
“You started it.”
A pause.
Then—
A faint, almost invisible smirk touched his lips.
“There it is.”
“What?”
“That attitude.”
I frowned.
“What about it?”
“It’s going to get you in trouble.”
I crossed my arms.
“It already has.”
“Fair point.”
Another small pause.
Then his expression shifted again.
Back to serious.
“Lock your door tonight,” he said.
A chill ran through me.
“Why?”
“Just do it.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one you’re getting.”
I stared at him.
He wasn’t joking.
Wasn’t being dramatic.
Something was wrong.
“What aren’t you telling me?” I asked quietly.
His gaze held mine.
For a long moment—
I thought he might actually answer.
But then—
“Sleep,” he said again.
And turned toward the door.
Frustration bubbled up inside me.
“Arsen—”
He paused.
Just before opening it.
But didn’t turn around.
“If you hear anything tonight,” he said quietly, “don’t open the door.”
My heart skipped.
“That’s not funny.”
“I’m not joking.”
The seriousness in his voice—
It made my chest tighten.
“What’s out there?” I whispered.
A pause.
Then—
“Something that knows your name.”
The door opened.
Then closed.
Leaving me alone.
In the dark.
With silence.
And a fear that crept slowly under my skin.
I stared at the door.
At the lock.
At the thin piece of wood that suddenly felt like the only thing standing between me—
And whatever was coming next.
“…Soon…”
My breath hitched.
No.
No, no, no—
I shook my head, trying to push the voice away.
It wasn’t real.
It couldn’t be real.
And yet—
The mark burned.
Stronger.
Hotter.
Like something was getting closer.
I stood there for a long time.
Just staring.
Waiting.
Listening.
And then—
A sound.
Soft.
Barely there.
From the other side of the door.
A whisper.
“Open…”
My blood ran cold.
Because that voice—
It wasn’t the same as before.
It wasn’t empty.
Wasn’t hollow.
It was familiar.
Too familiar.
“…It’s me.”
My heart stopped.
No.
That wasn’t possible.
Because that voice—
It sounded exactly like—
“Arsen…?”
Silence.
Then again.
Softer this time.
“…Open the door.”
My hand trembled as I slowly reached for the lock.
My mind screamed at me to stop.
To think.
To remember what he said.
But my heart—
My heart recognized that voice.
Trusted it.
Wanted to believe it.
“Arsen… is that you?” I whispered.
No answer.
Just silence.
And then—
A soft knock.
My fingers touched the lock.
And for one terrifying moment—
I almost opened it.
Almost.
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