You Were Never Mine Novels & Stories

BOOK 2: THE HEART OF THE HAUNTER We’ll keep on coming till we get it right This place, we’ve seen it a million times I won’t forget you Can’t remember me without you But I can’t call you mine. —Daughtry, Call You Mine * *

"Mine. Say it. Say you're mine." "Yours, Daddy! Only yours! Forever yours!" "That's right. And no one takes what's mine. No one even looks at what's mine. MINE!"

A life that ended somewhere far from where anyone could question it. I watched from a distance as he unraveled. The apologies came too late. The regret was real—but useless. I had already left the country under a different name. A different life. A clean slate. No more fear. No more control. No more “almost love.” I mourned myself in silence. Not because I was dead—but because the girl who stayed had finally disappeared. And somewhere across the ocean, I breathed freely for the first time. Because sometimes, the only way to survive… is to become someone they can never find again.

Awareness of never being loved was a woodpecker knocking tiny holes into my soul. "Val." Aiden's voice made me angry at my own self. I shook my head while tears rolled down my cheeks. The awareness of never being loved for my own self smashed me into smithereens. Whatever I thought I felt or knew disappeared in a flash. The tremor of the truth left, dissolving in the ground leaving me empty and more alone than before.

And nothing, not Nikita, not whatever you’re running from, will keep me away from you again. You’re mine, and I’ll die before I let anyone take you from me.

He leaned in close, and I could see his eyes flashing as he struggled to control himself. "Girl, I want you to know that, once again, we are not done. If you think this is the end you are sadly mistaken. I'm not sure what the hell gave you the impression that I got my fill of you or that I would let you walk away without a fight, but you are dead wrong. You are just lucky I do not have the time to properly punish you right now. So, let me explain it to you this way and I hope the message sinks in this time," he said very quietly as he leaned even further in so his whole face filled my entire vision. "YOU...ARE... MINE," he growled out and I felt each word hitting me like a blow to the gut.

“I won’t be able to live without you, Viv!” Liam interjected. His eyes had turned bloodshot as he spoke in a husky voice, “The very thought of leaving you to that b*stard is enough to drive me mad. Do you know how tough it is for me to keep myself sane? I have to fight the drug everyday, and there isn’t a day that goes by without thinking about you. No matter how painful it was, I braved through every single one of them. I kept going through our memories even though my brain hurt as if somebody was hacking away at it with an axe. And now that I finally can remember everything, you tell me to forget everything about you and start over?”

He blocked me. Then unblocked me. Then messaged “I miss you” at 3am. Then ignored me for days again. It was a game. A cruel one. And I was finally starting to realize… I wasn’t the player. I was the pawn. It wasn’t just about church. Or faith. Or friends. It was about losing myself to someone who never planned to hold me gently. He didn’t just change me. He erased me. And now, I had to figure out who I was underneath the mess he left behind.

Not even real amusement—just something broken curling up like smoke. “Youve always been mine festus,,” he breathed, thick with hunger. Mine. I broke. Right there. Right fucking there. My stomach collapsed. My throat closed. My chest got too tight to breathe. That name. That fucking name . I used to melt when he whispered it in the dark. I used to come undone the second his voice dropped low and said mine , like I was a thing he could own, claim, bury inside and never let go of.

“This one’s mine.” Inside was a single sheet of paper. No threats. No games. Just a list. A timeline of August’s life moments only he should remember. Some were innocent: “age six, won the spelling bee.” Others were more personal: “age fourteen, kissed Liam behind the chapel.” “age seventeen, burned the first manuscript.” Each line ended the same way: You were never alone. August’s hands trembled. His knees went weak. At the very bottom, one last sentence was scrawled in a different ink: