♥ Chapter 8♥

Asher Bennett.

The sound of my footsteps echoed loudly, despite my attempt to run quietly.

The darkness around me was suffocating, lit only by the flickering lights of broken streetlamps. My chest burned, my heart pounded wildly, and the heavy footsteps behind me grew closer.

I knew who it was. I didn’t need to look back.

Those black eyes—cold as death itself—were carved into my mind.

He was hunting me.

"Run, Sojung."

His voice was deep, laced with a dark, taunting threat.

I stumbled on a loose stone, falling to my knees on the rough pavement. I tried to get up, but my body refused to move.

Before I could react, a strong hand clamped down on my shoulder, brutally pulling me back.

His icy grip sank into my skin.

"There is no escape," he murmured into my ear, and a violent shiver ran down my spine.

My eyes widened, and as I turned, expecting to face death—everything changed.

Suddenly, I wasn’t running anymore.

The world around me shifted.

Now, I was inside a luxurious bedroom, the dark walls and elegant furniture exuding power and dominance. He was still there—but he wasn’t restraining me like a predator closing in on its prey.

No.

He had me pinned against the wall.

His body was pressed against mine, burning hot through his tailored suit. Black eyes locked onto mine, but this time, the hunger in them was something else entirely.

"I told you we’d meet again," he whispered, his voice husky, dripping with possessive certainty.

I tried to speak, but my breath caught in my throat—and then his mouth claimed mine.

It wasn’t a gentle kiss. It was consuming, demanding, and overpowering.

His tongue pushed past my lips, stealing the very air from my lungs, while his hands traveled down my waist, pulling me closer—trapping me against him.

The scent of cedar, the taste of mint, the unbearable heat of his touch.

It engulfed me.

Every brush of his fingers sent fire licking up my spine.

"You belong to me, Sojung," he murmured against my lips, and my entire body shuddered.

I couldn’t control my reaction.

I didn’t want to react this way.

But when he tilted my head back and dragged his lips down my throat, slow and torturous, I felt something terrifying creep into me.

Desire.

A dark, unfamiliar craving coiled inside my chest, tangling with the fear.

"Time to wake up."

His voice cut through the haze like a blade.

And suddenly—I gasped awake.

My eyes flew open, my body jerking upright in bed.

My chest rose and fell rapidly, my heartbeat hammering against my ribs.

I ran a shaky hand over my face, trying to grasp reality.

It was a dream. A goddamn dream.

I looked down—and heat flooded my face.

Fuck.

I groaned, frustrated, running my hands through my messy hair.

What the hell is happening to me?

It had been five days since that night at the nightclub.

Five days since I had witnessed something I was never supposed to see.

And yet, he wouldn’t leave my head.

Not because I wanted to remember.

Because he invaded my dreams every single night.

The pattern was always the same.

First, the nightmare—I was running, drowning in fear.

Then, the shift.

The fear morphed into something else.

Something that made my body react in ways I didn’t want to admit.

"I’m losing my mind," I muttered, staring up at the ceiling.

I turned onto my side, desperate to push the thoughts away—but it was useless.

Since that night, I had been on edge constantly.

Everywhere I went, I felt watched.

Every unfamiliar face on the street felt like a threat.

Every shadow made me hold my breath.

My focus at work had gone to shit.

I was constantly checking windows, monitoring every little movement around me.

At home, I locked my door twice, three times—checking over and over.

"Asher, are you okay?"

Nick’s voice yanked me from my thoughts.

I turned quickly to see him standing at my bedroom door, arms crossed, his concerned eyes studying me.

"Yeah. Why?" I forced myself out, masking my unease.

"Because you’ve been acting weird for days." His frown deepened. "You barely talk to me anymore, and you’re always distracted… What the hell is going on?"

My throat tightened.

A part of me wanted to tell him everything.

To share the suffocating fear.

But I couldn’t drag him into this.

It was too dangerous.

"Nothing, Nick. Just… tired," I said, avoiding his gaze as I sat at the edge of my bed.

"Tired?" He let out a humorless scoff. "Dude, we’ve been friends for years. I know when something’s wrong."

I exhaled, pressing my fingers against my temples.

"It’s nothing, Nick. I swear. Just overworked. You know how it is."

He studied me for a long moment before sighing.

"Fine. But if you need anything, you know you can talk to me, right?"

I nodded.

"I know. Thanks."

He hesitated but eventually stepped back, shutting my door behind him.

I let out a long breath, sinking back against the headboard.

I wanted to believe this was all in my head.

That the man wasn’t watching me.

That he would eventually forget about me.

But deep down, I knew I was wrong.

So, so wrong