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Fate works in mysterious ways.
Ever since I was little, I’ve known that I wouldn’t always be a sheltered little princess fighting for her family’s approval. That one day, something would come for me when I least expect it. I just didn’t know what it would be or what it would entail.
I sure as hell didn’t think it’d start in my brother’s mega-secured, guard-filled mansion.
The moment I reach a hand to the half-open glass door, a dark figure slowly slides inside.
I jump back, slapping a hand to my chest.
If I hadn’t seen the slick movement through my balcony sliding door, I would’ve thought this person—a man, judging by his build—was cut from the night.
He’s in all black. Sweatpants, a long-sleeved shirt, shoes, gloves, and a half-smiling, half-crying mask.
A shiver snakes beneath my flesh as I stare at the details of the mask. The crying half is black and the smiling part is white. The mixture of both is creepily haunting.
All of him is.
The bleak color of his clothes doesn’t conceal the bulging of his muscles beneath the shirt or reduce the sheer power of his quiet presence. He’s someone who works out, his chest filled with planes of muscles and a defined abdomen, but he’s not bulky.
Just muscular enough to exude power by merely standing there.
He’s also tall. So tall that I have to crane my head to take in the entirety of him.
Well, I’m a bit on the short, petite side. But still. I don’t usually have to go to such an extent to look at people.
We stare at each other for a beat, like two animals before they go at each other’s throats.
The two holes in the creepy mask serve as his eyes, which are dark, but not black or brown, more like the darkness of the ocean.
And I latch onto that color, to that disruption of the black aura. It’s also my toxic trait to see the good in people, to not let the world harden me until I can no longer empathize with anyone.
It’s a promise I made to myself when I figured out what type of world I was born into.
My limbs continue trembling, the rhythm matching my skyrocketing heartbeat.
Still, I force my super cheerful, super casual tone. “You might want to leave before the guards find you—”
The words die in my throat when he advances toward me.
One imposing step at a time.
So, remember the fact that his presence has power? I’m witnessing the effects of it firsthand.
I was wrong.
It’s not only power; it’s intimidation in its purest form.
An ocean that’s groaning and roaring to release its wildness.
I don’t even notice I’ve stepped back until he advances again. This time, I stand my ground and stare up at him. “As I was saying, you should probably go—”
His chest nearly collides with mine as he swiftly kills the distance between us. Warmth mixes with something spicy and the smell of soot. Was he near a fire or something?
He steps forward again and I automatically step back. Either that or I let him crash into me and sweep me over like a tornado.
“Seriously, do you know whose house this is?” My voice is no longer cheerful and has long since matched the shaking of my limbs. “Do you have a death wish—”
I’m not ready for what happens next.
