Page 5 of The Library

That unsettling mix of fear and desire is intoxicating, and it coils deep inside me, making me crave more. The idea of him watching me, of knowing things about me that I’ve never told anyone—it excites me in a way I can’t deny. The danger, the unknown—it’s addicting.

But fear wins out, and I finally manage to break the connection, my gaze dropping to the floor as I turn on my heel and head for the exit.

I don’t look back. I can’t.

My feet move faster than my thoughts, carrying me out of the library and into the cool autumn air. The breeze hits my face, but it does nothing to soothe the heat rising in my chest. I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself, but the adrenaline is still surging through my veins.

I glance back over my shoulder, half-expecting to see him behind me, but when I look at the library doors, he’s no longer there.

Gone. Like he was never there at all. And I can’t help but feel disappointed that he is. It’s as if he was a shadow stolen away with the light, leaving only the ghost of his presence to haunt me.

Sebastian

She felt me watching her. Good.

Lilith—not Lily, that’s just not suitable for her, she isn’t like the other girls, she is far more intricate —has no idea how deep she’s already in. She thinks she’s in control, walking through life with her head buried in books and fantasies, unaware of the shadows that circle her. But I’ve been watching her long enough to know that she craves something more. She wants to be seen. She just doesn’t know it yet.

I lean against the wall just outside the library entrance, waiting. I can see her, but she can’t see me. Not yet. My focus is on her—always on her. I knew she’d feel me watching her, knew she’d run the moment she realized it was me. That’s what excites me. The way her body reacts before her mind can even catch up. She’s not afraid, not really. She’s curious. And curiosity, as they say, kills the cat. She can run all she wants, she can try to hide from me, but I will always find her.

I’ve been patient, watching from the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment. She doesn’t realize it yet, but I’ve been following her for weeks. Everywhere she goes, I’m there—lurking, watching, learning. I know her routine better than she does. I know what she likes, what makes her laugh, what keeps her up at night. I know every intimate detail she hides from the rest of the world, every dark fantasy she buries behind that innocent smile.

The moment I first saw her, something inside me snapped. She was sitting in that damned bookstore, lost in a sea of words, completely oblivious to the world around her. She was too easy to overlook, too soft-spoken and timid. But there was something about her—the way her fingers brushed the spine of a book, the way her eyes lingered on the darker stories—that told me there was more beneath the surface. A hunger. A darkness.

And I’m going to bring it out of her.

I lean back against the cold brick wall, arms crossed over my chest as I watch her through the glass doors of the study section at the library. She’s scrambling to pack up her things, moving too quickly, too frantically. Good. Let her run. It won’t matter. I’ll always be one step ahead.

The moment she finally steps out into the night air, her head whips around, scanning the area. She saw me from inside, and she was hesitant to go beyond that glass door that she thinks keeps her safe from me. I smirk, knowing she only saw me because I wanted her to. She never sees me coming. Not until it’s too late.

She hurries past me, her breath coming in shallow gasps, and I catch a glimpse of her wide eyes as she glances over her shoulder. She’s scared—no, not scared. Something deeper than fear. A mix of fear and anticipation, the kind that gets under your skin and makes your pulse quicken.

She’s already wet. I can tell by the way she’s walking, the slight tension in her thighs as she tries to keep herself composed. The thrill of being watched is turning her on, even if she doesn’t want to admit it to herself yet. She likes this. The danger, the unknown—it excites her. She wants to be prey, even though she hasn’t realized it yet. But I see it in the way her lips part, in the flush that spreads across her neck. She’s already mine.

I wait a few beats after she disappears into the parking lot, thinking I left when she turned to look back at me. Then pushoff the wall and follow her at a distance. Not too close. Not yet. I want to give her space to think she’s alone, to let her imagination run wild with thoughts of me.

By the time I reach the edge of the lot, I see her pause, her eyes fixated on something in the distance. My car. She recognizes it. The black Aston Martin parked at the far corner of the lot, just like it had been two nights ago. I watch as she takes a step closer, her brow furrowed, trying to make out if there’s anyone inside. She knows it’s me. She just doesn’t want to believe it.

I stay hidden, watching her from the shadows, savoring the way her body tenses. She’s trying to convince herself that she’s imagining things, that the danger she feels isn’t real. But it is. And it’s right in front of her.

When she finally looks away, I see her phone light up in her hand. A text, no doubt from her friend, Anna. Always trying to drag her out to some party, always pushing her to be someone she’s not. I know what Lilith really wants. She doesn’t need those loud, obnoxious gatherings. She doesn’t need to drink herself into oblivion just to forget how lonely she feels.

She needs me.

I watch as she heads back into her apartment building, her steps quick and unsteady. Once she’s out of sight, I walk back to my car, making sure to park it somewhere she won’t see. I can’t afford to let her know how close I am. Not yet.

I wait for the lights in her apartment to flicker on, then slip out of my car, making my way around to the back of the building. It’s easy to find her window—second floor, the one that’s always cracked open, letting in the cool night air.

It’s careless, really. She shouldn’t leave her windows open. Especially not with monsters like me hiding in the dark, just waiting.

I climb up the side of the building, careful not to make any noise. It’s almost too easy, getting into her apartment. She doesn’t lock her windows properly—another mistake. The second-floor apartment doesn’t give her the security she thinks it does.

I’ve been in here before. I’ve gone through her things, memorized every corner of her space. Her bed, her desk, the books scattered everywhere—she surrounds herself with the things that make her feel safe. But none of it can protect her from me.

I slip inside, the cool air from the cracked window following me in. The soft hum of the street outside fades as I close it behind me, sealing us in together. She’s still in the bathroom, the sound of the shower running muffling my movements. I move through her space, taking in the scent of her. It lingers in the air, sweet and clean, with a hint of the vanilla lotion she uses.

I stop at her bed, my eyes tracing the outline of her body through the thin crack in bathroom door. I can see her shadow moving behind the curtain, oblivious to the fact that I’m right here, mere feet away from her.

She’s too innocent. Too trusting. She doesn’t understand the world she’s living in—the darkness that waits for girls like her. But I’ll teach her. I’ll show her what it’s like to be truly seen, to be truly wanted.

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