The Devil's Obsession
Her dreams were wild and tangled—shadows chasing her through fire, whispers calling her name from endless corridors, and eyes watching her from beyond the veil of reality.
She woke drenched in sweat, breath shallow, heart hammering.
And he was there.
Sitting in the chair near her window, in complete silence.
Dante.
“How did you get in here?” she asked, reaching for the lamp.
“I never left,” he said.
She narrowed her eyes. “You were watching me?”
He didn’t answer the question. “What you did today—do you know what that means?”
She shook her head.
“It means you’re not human,” he said softly. “Not fully.”