Todos los capítulos de Fallen for the Dark: Capítulo 1 - Capítulo 10

The rain fell in relentless sheets, drumming on the pavement with a rhythm that matched the frantic beat of my heart. I pulled my coat tighter around me, wishing I had stayed home, curled under my blankets with a book and a hot cup of tea. But the streets called anyway, whispering through the wind, daring me to step into the night. Something about the cold, wet air made everything feel sharper, every sound more alive, every shadow more dangerous.I didn’t notice him at first. Not the way he appeared from the shadows, blending with the darkness so completely that I could almost have convinced myself he was a trick of the dim streetlights. But then our eyes met. And suddenly, nothing else mattered.He was tall, impossibly composed, yet there was something magnetic about him that made me uneasy. His coat clung to his frame, dark and sleek, the kind of coat that looked like it belonged in a storybook rather than the wet, empty streets. But it wasn’t just his appearance—it was the presence

The night was quiet, almost too quiet, as if the city had held its breath just for us. The rain had stopped hours ago, leaving puddles that reflected the dim glow of the streetlights. I walked briskly, telling myself I wasn’t thinking about him, that I could forget the intensity of his gaze, the brush of his hand, the way my pulse had betrayed me the night before. But every shadow, every flicker of movement, seemed to echo him.And of course, he appeared.He stepped from the darkness without a sound, coat still damp, hair falling in loose strands across his forehead, eyes glinting with that same dangerous fire. My stomach twisted. My mind screamed caution. Every instinct urged me to turn and run, yet my feet rooted to the ground.“You’re out late again,” he said, voice calm, teasing, and somehow commanding all at once.“I… needed air,” I stammered, trying to steady my voice, trying to convince myself this was normal, harmless. “To think.”“Think about what?” His step closed the gap be

The evening air was thick, heavy with the scent of rain from earlier, clinging to my skin like a warning I refused to heed. I wandered through the streets, aimless, trying to distract myself, to tell myself that last night—the stolen moments, the kiss, the pull of him—was nothing more than a dangerous illusion.But illusions don’t leave scorch marks on your skin or fire in your chest.I could feel him before I saw him. The shadow at the corner of the alley, the way the air seemed to change as I stepped closer. My pulse surged, heart hammering. And then he appeared, as though the night itself had bent to bring him back to me.He leaned casually against the wall, coat damp from the lingering drizzle, eyes glinting with that same intoxicating, dangerous light. That smile—the one that made my knees weak—spread across his face.“You seem restless,” he said, voice low, teasing, but with an undercurrent I couldn’t quite name.“I… I’m fine,” I lied, though my voice trembled despite my attempt

The night air had a chill that cut through me, sharp and biting, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except him. Every shadow, every flicker of movement, every whisper of the wind reminded me of the fire he ignited inside me. I tried to tell myself I could resist, that I could regain control. But deep down, I already knew the truth: I couldn’t.And then he appeared.Not in the shadows this time, not hidden or mysterious. He was there, leaning against the doorway of the old bookstore I’d wandered into, coat damp from the drizzle, hair messy, eyes dark and commanding. That same infuriating smirk tugged at his lips, one that promised danger, desire, and obsession all at once.“You’re predictable,” he said, voice low and teasing, yet edged with something dangerous. “You think you can wander through the night, pretend I don’t exist, and ignore the pull between us. But I always find you.”I swallowed hard, forcing myself to stand tall, to look like I wasn’t trembling. “I… I wasn’t trying

The night air was heavy with anticipation, almost suffocating, yet I couldn’t resist stepping into it. Every nerve in my body hummed with the memory of him—the way he appeared from shadows, the fire of his touch, the magnetic danger that surrounded him. Sleep had become impossible, my mind replaying every stolen glance, every brush of fingers, every heartbeat that had thudded against his presence.I told myself I could resist. I tried to tell myself it was madness, that surrendering to him would be reckless, dangerous, and foolish. But the truth was undeniable. I wanted him. I craved him. I was ensnared in a fire I couldn’t escape.And then he appeared, as if summoned by the pull between us.He leaned against the doorway of the old café, coat damp from the evening drizzle, hair falling loosely across his forehead, eyes dark and commanding. That same infuriating smirk tugged at his lips, the one that made my knees weaken and my chest ache.“You came,” he said, voice low, teasing, but e