Page 4 of Stolen
I perch on the roof of a dilapidated warehouse across from a dive bar with a half unlit neon sign that’s supposed to readOn the Waterfront Bar & Bites.
Charming.
I’ve watched a hundred of these hole-in-the-wall establishments rot from the inside out.
But tonight?
Tonight, something different stirs in the air.
I can feel it.
See it stretch out in front of me the moment I pull the veil back with my magic.
A single thread.
Silver.
Spun tight with longing.
And it’s hers.
That shimmering strand of fate winds through the ether like a tether, humming with emotion so sharp it could slice the skin if you touched it.
I’ve been watching it for days now, trailing behind her like a ghost she doesn’t know she carries.
She’s the one.
My human.
Pretty. Young.
Curves for miles and eyes that carry more story than she’ll ever tell.
But more than that,she’s sad.
Not broken. Not weeping.
No, her sadness is quieter than that.
It clings to her like fog at twilight.
Soft, lonely, and beautifully heavy.
It makes her vulnerable.
It makes herperfect.
Because sadness is a door.
And I know how to walk through it.
For now, I simply watch.
I drape my illusion over me like a well-cut coat.
Horns, wings, tail all tucked neatly into the folds of the metaphysical space that is Nightfall.
My true form steps into shadow, and the charming human exterior emerges, just tall enough to intimidate, just handsome enough to disarm.
