Semua Bab BOUND TO HER WILL: Bab 1 - Bab 10

CHAPTER TWO 🩷Talia🩷 Talia’s alarm didn’t wake her—she was already up, sitting on the edge of her bed, staring at the pale light bleeding in through the blinds. Her mind hadn’t stopped racing since the dream. Or vision. Or whatever it had been. It left her feeling hollowed out, as if something had reached into her chest and plucked loose a thread she hadn’t known was holding her together. She tried to shake the feeling, pushing herself into motion. A shower. A clean, crisp button-down. Neatly pressed slacks. The little rituals grounded her. As she twisted her hair into a sleek bun, she caught her own reflection in the bathroom mirror. Her eyes looked… older. Tired in a way that sleep never seemed to fix anymore. Work would help. It always did. --- The office buzzed softly with keyboards and hushed phone calls. Talia moved through it like clockwork, perfectly efficient, her posture straight, her heels quiet against the linoleum. She returned greetings with polite smiles, av

CHAPTER FOUR 🩷Talia🩷 Talia woke to the hollow kind of quiet that didn’t feel like peace. It felt… paused. As if the world were holding its breath around her. Her apartment was bathed in soft gray light, the kind that slipped through thick clouds and made everything feel distant. She sat up slowly, the sheet tangled around her legs, her heart beating a little too fast for someone who'd just woken from sleep. Except, she wasn’t sure she had been sleeping. Not deeply. Not restfully. A weight pressed behind her eyes, and her limbs carried that eerie tension that came after a nightmare she couldn’t remember—only the feeling remained. Something cold. Something wrong. She rubbed her arms and swung her legs over the side of the bed, toes curling against the hardwood floor. The air was colder than it should’ve been. Not just from the morning chill. It felt unnatural. Talia crossed the room, drawn to the window like a string was tugging her. She stopped abruptly. It was cracked open. He

Chapter Five (continued) 🩷Talia🩷 Talia stood at her kitchen counter, hands clasped around her coffee mug as she stared blankly out the window. The events of the past few days felt like they were stretching into something too surreal, too heavy for her to grasp. She couldn’t shake the image of Ronan from her mind—the way he’d looked at her, as if he knew something she didn’t. His presence lingered in her thoughts like a persistent shadow, making it impossible to focus on anything else. Her phone buzzed, snapping her out of her trance. She glanced at the screen and saw a message from Bria. “I’ve been thinking. You sure you don’t know who that guy was?” Talia sighed and set the mug down, tapping out a response. “Yes, I’m sure. Just… forget about it, okay?” She hit send before she could second-guess herself, then leaned against the counter. Her fingers brushed the edge of the countertop, absently tracing the pattern of the granite. What was she doing? She had no answers, no

CHAPTER SEVEN 🩷Talia🩷 The sharp scent of antiseptic lingered in the air, mingling with the heavy silence of the apartment. Talia sat on the edge of the couch, her fingers curled tightly around the cup of tea in her hands. She could feel the warm steam on her skin, but the heat did little to thaw the icy chill that clung to her bones. Her body ached in places she couldn’t explain, bruises blooming along her ribs and the back of her neck. The attacker’s hands, rough and desperate, had left marks that no amount of soap could erase. Her skin seemed to hum, like an echo of something she couldn’t reach, a phantom sensation that clung to her, reminding her that something far worse was coming. The dreams still hovered at the edge of her waking moments, creeping into her thoughts when she least expected it. Cold, damp hands sliding around her throat, the whisper of a voice—strange and guttural—lingering on the edge of her hearing. Shadows danced just beyond her vision, but when she tur

CHAPTER NINE 🩵Ronan🩵 The scent of blood was faint but unmistakable. It laced the air like a warning, sharp and coppery beneath the layered scents of forest moss and autumn decay. Ronan crouched at the edge of the alley where it had happened, nostrils flaring, senses peeled back to their raw edges. She'd been here. Hurt. Terrified. He found the bloodstains near the dumpster—small, almost smudged out by the damp. But his vision sharpened beyond what the human eye could see. He traced the droplets, followed the panic in their pattern. Talia had fought back. Her scent was wild with adrenaline, threaded through with pain and stubbornness. But no death. Thank the moon, no death. Ronan exhaled, low and steady, and tilted his head to catch more of the trail. It led out of the alley, back toward the street. Her escape. His fingers curled into fists. He'd been too far, too slow. The guilt settled heavy in his chest, colder than the night air. He should have never left her unguarded. He