MasukIt started as a story. Just words. A fantasy, Elara wrote at night. A man she designed to be everything she craved for but never had. Marek! Obsessive. Possessive. Deadly loyal. Unapologetically hers. She never expected the knocks on her door when no one was there. The whisper of her name in an empty room. Or the scent of him. The one she only ever described in ink, lingering in her pillow. She thought she was losing her mind. Until the bruises appeared. Until her friends started disappearing. Until Marek stepped out of her pages… And smiled. Now Elara has to ask herself the one question that could shatter everything: Did she write him into existence…..or did he lure her into his?
Lihat lebih banyakElara couldn’t breathe.The auditorium felt smaller suddenly too tight, too loud, too alive. The lights burned against her eyes, the murmurs crawling over her skin like insects. Her name, not her name, still echoed in her head. Sylvia Hart.She stood frozen at the edge of the stage, fingers numb, palms damp. Security hovered close, not touching her yet, but close enough that she felt their presence like a hand pressed to her spine.Her throat tightened painfully.Feel what?The humiliation?The betrayal?The way her world cracked open in front of hundreds of strangers?Her vision blurred.Security shifted closer.Elara’s eyes found him before her mind could stop them.Black cloak. Hood low. No face, just the curve of lips beneath shadow.Smiling.Her breath hitched.You knew.The words screamed inside her chest, but when her lips parted, nothing came out.Marek’s voice slid into her head like silk over glass. “Stand still.”Her knees trembled.Security hovered closer. The crowd bu
Fallon didn’t let the silence breathe.She sat on the edge of the bed, knees drawn up, fingers twisting in the hem of her shirt until the fabric puckered. Her eyes kept darting to the door, then the window, then back to Elara’s face.“Okay,” Fallon said finally, voice tight. “You whispered his name back there. So you’re going to tell me who Jasper is before I start questioning my sanity again.” Elara stood by the desk, staring at nothing.The room felt wrong, too quiet, too alert, like it was listening.Elara swallowed. Her hands trembled slightly, but she folded them together, forcing stillness. That was her nature. Calm on the outside. Fear locked behind her ribs.“He’s… not human,” she said quietly.Fallon blinked. Once. Twice.“…I knew it,” Fallon muttered, then huffed a weak laugh. “I knew I wasn’t crazy.”“It’s complicated,” Elara added quickly. “And I don’t want to scare you.”Fallon scoffed. “Baby, I already flirted with thin air on a public road. The scare already happe
Sylvia's hand clamped around Fallon's wrist so tightly that Fallon winced."Fallon, what was that?" Sylvia demanded, her voice low, sharp. "Who were you talking to? Because it definitely wasn't a person."Fallon shuddered. "I…… I wasn't talking to myself, Sylvia. I swear I saw someone. A man. He was there." Fallon said pointing at the glass window.Sylvia turned, then turned back and blinked slowly, the way someone does when they are trying not to laugh. "Oh! Sweetheart." she placed a hand dramatically on Fallon's shoulder. "Are you sure you are okay? Did you eat today? Did you hit your head?""I'm serious!" Fallon whispered harshly, pulling her wrist out of Sylvia's grip. "He was real. He was looking at me….he looked at me…he reacted. And you…… you didn't see him because you weren't supposed to."Sylvia's brow twitched. "Not supposed to see him?" The almost laughter behind her voice made Fallon tremble harder.Fallon hugged her arms around herself. "I'm not crazy.""Of course not,"
The grocery bags dug into Fallon's arms as she strutted down the street, humming loudly to herself and muttering under her breath about how Elara should have tagged along.The evening was chill, painting the sky in streaks of gold.Her day had been boring, Elara had holed herself up again, Fallon had to run errands, and she was already plotting to raid Elara's snack stash as paycheck.Then she saw him.A man.Not just a man, he was the kind of man you only saw in glossy magazines or behind velvet ropes. Tall, broad shouldered, his black coat rippled faintly in the wind as though it belonged to a different season.His hair was beautiful and untamed, and those eyes, dark brown, icy, cutting, almost unreal, pinned her in place.Fallon nearly tripped over her own sneakers. "Well, hello there," She muttered, her lips curling. "Who dropped a runway model in this dead end town?"She expected him to ignore her. To glance away, maybe keep walking. But his head turned.Those dark brown eyes l
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