登入“Choose. The white one—and I take you, and everyone lives. You can keep your little human charade,” he said, his voice low as his fingers pressed deeper, stealing the breath from my lungs. I bit back a moan. “Or refuse… and there’s the black one—for your fiancé’s funeral. I’ll take you in that dress.” A pause. “But either way… I will take you.” —- Mira, recently engaged, returns to her hometown to care for her mother after her stepfather’s accident leaves him without his memory. But the awakened man is not who she remembers. Though the face is the same, everything else has changed. The way his eyes linger too long… the way his words sometimes feel a century old… even his ever-stoic expression carries something darker beneath it. The smiling, easygoing man is gone. What Mira cannot ignore are his looks that follow her, or the touches that begin as accidental—but never feel that way. She knows she should keep her distance. He is her stepfather. She is engaged. This is wrong. But the pull between them is impossible to resist. Her nights are no longer hers. His gaze always finds her. And when he touches her, it doesn’t feel like desire— It feels like possession. Until the truth comes out… and with it, a choice she cannot escape. Warning — Dubious consent
查看更多He fell to the ground with a thud. My mind went blank. I breathed heavily, trying to find a way to gather my thoughts. He…fainted. He was bleeding from the nose. Had I hit him so hard? Panicked, I crouched down beside him, brushing away his dark hair. His breathing was shallow and he appeared paler than before. I shot up and opened my mouth to yell for help, but my words died in my throat as a cold hand wrapped around my ankle. I looked down; he coughed and his eyes opened a little.“Don’t.” He sounded weak, but his hold tightened around my ankle. Goosebumps rose over my skin.“We should call for a doctor,” I said, stepping back and crouching down beside him, unwrapping his hand from my ankle. He took a deep breath.“No healer of your kind can help me,” he said, every word seeming to be a struggle. I opened my mouth and closed it. My hands hovered over his chest.“What do you mean?” I couldn’t help but touch his face. He was so cold; this wasn't normal. “Look, I don’t know what is goi
Dr. Parashar’s death just before our appointment... It doesn’t feel right—“Mira,” Mom called, pulling me out of my spiraling thoughts.“Can you go and check on Edward, please?” she asked. “Just to see if he is okay." I don’t want to make him uncomfortable.”“Yes, Mom,” came my automatic response. But as I moved up the stairs, with every step I wanted to go the opposite way. I couldn’t bear to be in the same room as him, or even near him. Edward had moved out of the room he shared with Mother the moment we returned. Mom is trying to look composed and unbothered, but I can’t even begin to imagine what it feels like for her. Nine years of marriage, and now Edward is a stranger.I went to the first floor and stood outside the guest room door. I was ready to knock, but then I pulled my hand back. Remembering the past few days, would this be the same? Right now, outside the door, every interaction between us seems like a long-lost dream. What would he be like now?I finally gathered enough
I watched the nursing staff settle Edward into his wheelchair. “They said mobility will take time. I’ve already scheduled a physiotherapist,” Mom said. I nodded. Did I imagine the last two days? I wondered. I wondered about the last two days—the nights, the mornings, and his threat. Whenever I look at him, I see only the deep void in his eyes. I remember falling asleep outside and waking up inside, not knowing how I got there. Before that, he grabbed my neck. I could almost feel his touch, his voice, and his lips brushing against my skin. And now, in a wheelchair, he looks pale and vulnerable, not at all how he felt a day ago. Maybe this is a medical issue. I looked at Mom; even if I told her, she wouldn’t believe me. There is only one way to know. I followed as my mother took over the wheelchair, clutching the little duffel bag. They handed Edward a copy to sign. He took the pen, looked at it, and rotated it a little around his fingers as if he had never seen it before. Th
The Mortal“What are you saying?” I frowned.I felt like a rug was pulled out from under my feet. The corner of his lips twitched—curving into a smirk so slight it didn’t touch the rest of his expression, but his eyes gleamed, making my stomach twist in icy knots. He sat up straighter lazily. I stepped back under the weight of his gaze.I could see in his eyes he didn’t care, but I steeled myself. “I know you might be confused,” but even as I said it, it was very naive. A hopeless attempt to avoid what I was seeing.“I am not confused, little bird.” He looked me straight in the eyes as he said it, and then his gaze dropped to my chest, then back up to my eyes.That nickname made blood rush to my neck.I tried my best to keep my face neutral, but my heartbeat turned loud in my ears.“Look,” I cleared my throat to suppress my obvious nervousness. “All I am saying—and I know it can be hard…” I tried again. “Mom cares about you a lot.” I turned my voice kinder, while a forbidding feeling
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