Page 84 of Presence

He’s come for me.

He’s found me.

Only when I make myself turn his way do the shadows shift, revealing his smile emerging from the darkness. His teeth form a menacing slash, as if they could bite me in half. His eyes are wide, eyebrows arched.

“You’ve changed indeed,” he exhales. “You have just challenged me.”

I meet his gaze, my fear warring with something deeper, something darker. As he studies me, uncertain and hesitant, I realize I’m done letting my fears hold me back. I lost my life already. I’ve already lost everything that mattered. There’s nothing left to lose. It’s time to follow my own desires.

Like in a trance, I lift my slashed hand and run a bloody finger over his lips. In an instant, his eyes gleam with hunger so intense that it makes my abdomen clench. He licks them slowly, savoring the taste, his smile widening into a grin that makes my skin crawl and my heart accelerate. He makes that deep groaning sound I love and rolls his eyes in pleasure, and I feel warmth pooling between my thighs at the view.

The part of me that craves the darkness, that longs for his touch, grows stronger with every passing moment. I feel myself slipping deeper into the abyss, my resistance crumbling away.

Yes… This is exactly what I want. To see him like this.

“Fuck the game,” I breathe out. “I like this better.”

“You like this?“ The malice flickers out of his face. If I were to say, I’d wager he’s surprised, but I could never know that for sure. His mimic is not easy to decipher. Or rather… he just has a very small range of emotion he feels.

Hunger, malice, boredom.

He can pretend others. He pretended as the guardian spirit perfectly. But it’s clear he never felt them—love, sadness, compassion, empathy. He slipped them onto his image like masks to get what he wanted. And he wanted me.

“What do you like?” he asks.

“I like watching you feed on me,” I whisper earnestly, my nipples hardening in the bodice.His eyes darken with a fierce, malevolent hunger as he steps closer, gripping my chin and making me meet his intense gaze.

“You don’t want to run away from me?” he asks, his breath quickening to match mine. “Is that what you’re saying, my Little Soul?”

I know I should resist, should fight against the evil that he represents, but I can’t. I’m already too far gone.

“Yes.”

His eyes bore into mine, searching for any hint of defiance or hesitation. But he finds none. I am lost to him, consumed by the darkness and the hunger that we both share.

“Is that why you smell so sweet?”

“Maybe I intend to be the best you’ve ever had?” I counter with a question of my own. He mentioned earlier that the concept of “bad Claire” was my brainchild, born from my intentions mingling with my fears. Maybe this situation is just like that. Except it’s not a product of fear, more like my deeply rooted desire for him, something so powerful I can’t even control it.

Echo releases my chin, his fingers trailing down my neck, leaving a trail of icy fire in their wake. My breath hitches as he leans in closer, his lips brushing against my ear.

“Show me,” he purrs. “Show me your intention.”

My heart pounds in my chest, but I don’t hesitate. Slowly, I begin to unlace the bodice of my dress, my fingers trembling as I reveal more and more of my pale skin. His eyes follow my movements, dark and hungry, and I can feel the heat of his gaze burning into me.

As the dress falls away, I stand before him, vulnerable and exposed. His eyes rove over my body, taking in every curve, every scar, every mark he placed that has still stayed there.

Then, with a sudden, almost violent motion, he pulls me to him, his lips crashing against mine.

Before I know it, he picks me up and carries me out of the maze, leaving the corset and the white dress behind.

23

No Restraints

Echo throws me onto the bed without any remorse. He doesn’t care about my bleeding feet or palms or that I have bruises along my waist where the excess skin got tied up too tightly by the corset.To be frank, I don’t care about any of those things either. If anything, in this moment, I like them.

“Make the sheets white,” I breathe, looking into his wild eyes. “I want to watch my blood soak into them.”

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