The night was a shroud of ink, suffocating the light from the cold crescent moon as it hovered lazily in the sky. Ivy Calhoun pressed her back against the cool brick wall of the alleyway, her breath shallow and sharp. The air smelled like wet pavement and cigarette smoke, a pungent reminder of the city she was desperate to escape. But there was no escape tonight. Not from him.

Her eyes flickered toward the distant lights of the bar she'd just left, where laughter still echoed faintly, blissfully unaware of the dangers lurking in the darkened streets. Her heart thudded heavily in her chest, and her fingers trembled as she pulled the thin coat tighter around her frame.

She could still feel his gaze, the way it burned into her soul with an intensity that threatened to unravel her. The man she’d seen across the room—tall, cloaked in darkness and mystery—was no ordinary stranger. The second their eyes met, Ivy felt a pull so fierce it nearly brought her to her knees. Something primal, something dangerous. She hadn’t planned to run, but something about his presence set every nerve in her body on fire.

And now she was running, her blood thrumming with adrenaline as though he were already chasing her.

She could hear footsteps, slow and deliberate, echoing off the narrow walls of the alley. Ivy swallowed the fear that rose up like bile in her throat. She glanced over her shoulder, hoping she was wrong, hoping she’d imagined it.

But there he was.

His silhouette stood at the entrance of the alley, a tall, imposing figure with his hands tucked into his pockets. The dim streetlight cast his face in shadows, but Ivy could see enough to make her stomach twist. The sharp angle of his jaw, the mess of dark hair, and the smoldering intensity in his eyes, eyes that saw straight through her.

"Ivy," he murmured, his voice low and velvety, a dangerous purr that sent a shiver racing down her spine. "You can’t hide from me."

Her heart stammered in her chest. How did he know her name? She didn’t know him. She was sure of that. But there was a familiarity in the way he spoke, a possessiveness that made her skin prickle.

She backed up further into the alley, only to be stopped by the unyielding wall behind her. Trapped. Like prey in a cage. She cursed under her breath, panic threatening to consume her.

"Stay away from me," she managed to croak, though her voice lacked conviction. She wasn’t sure what she was more afraid of—the man in front of her or the electric thrill that his presence awakened deep inside her.

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, but there was no warmth in it. Only a cold promise of something dark, something inevitable.

“I’ve waited a long time to find you, Ivy,” he said, taking a slow step forward. “You’ve felt it too, haven’t you? The pull. The connection.”

She shook her head, trying to deny it, but she couldn’t lie to herself. She had felt it. That strange, inexplicable force that had tethered her to him the moment their eyes met.

"Who are you?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.

He paused, his gaze never leaving hers, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still.

"My name is Lorne," he said softly, but there was a darkness in his tone, a weight that lingered in the air between them. “And I am the beginning of your end.”

Ivy’s breath hitched, and she fought the instinct to flee again. Something about his words felt too final, too real. But before she could react, Lorne was suddenly in front of her, his hand gripping her chin, forcing her to look up into those hypnotic, predatory eyes.

"You're mine, Ivy," he whispered, his breath hot against her skin. "And no matter how far you run, I'll always find you."

His words were a mixture of a threat and a promise, and despite the fear, despite the warning screaming in her mind, Ivy couldn’t help the wild, treacherous spark of desire that flared deep within her.

It was wrong. Everything about this man, everything about the way he made her feel was wrong. But it was also irresistible.

And Ivy knew, with a sinking dread, that no matter what she did, there was no escaping him now.

Ivy’s thoughts swirled in chaos as she slammed her apartment door behind her. She leaned against it, breathless, as if she’d been running for miles. The encounter with Lorne in the alley had left her shaken in ways she couldn’t explain. His voice, his touch, it all lingered on her skin like a ghost she couldn’t shake. What was happening to her? Who was he?

Her heart was pounding so loudly she barely heard her phone ringing from the kitchen counter. With trembling hands, she picked it up, grateful for any distraction from the suffocating thoughts in her head.

“Hey, Ivy.” Dorian’s voice was warm, familiar. Safe.

She let out a shaky breath, clutching the phone as if it were a lifeline. “Dorian… thank God.”

“Hey, are you okay? You sound... off.”

Ivy hesitated. How could she explain what just happened without sounding insane? That a stranger had appeared in her life, claiming to know her, claiming that she belonged to him?

“I’m fine,” she lied, rubbing her forehead. “Just a long night.”

“Ivy, don’t lie to me. I know something’s up. You always get this tone in your voice when you’re hiding something.”

Dorian had always been able to read her like an open book. He had been her rock ever since she’d moved to the city two years ago, trying to put distance between her and the past. But there were things she couldn’t tell even him—things that defied logic, things he wouldn’t understand.

“I just…” Ivy’s voice wavered. “I met someone.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line. “Someone? Ivy, you sound terrified.”

She swallowed hard, her mind racing back to Lorne’s intense gaze, the heat of his breath against her skin, and the way he made her feel like she was teetering on the edge of a cliff. “It’s complicated.”

“I’m coming over,” Dorian said firmly.

“No!” Ivy blurted out. The last thing she needed was to drag Dorian into this mess. He was too good, too kind. Lorne’s presence was like poison, and she couldn’t risk it spreading to the one person who’d kept her grounded.

“Ivy…” Dorian’s voice softened, but she could hear the worry in it. “You don’t have to do this alone, okay? Just... let me help.”

A heavy silence settled between them, and Ivy closed her eyes, wishing for just a moment that she could open up to him. But the memory of Lorne’s whispered words echoed in her mind.

You’re mine. And no matter how far you run, I’ll always find you.

“I’ll be fine,” Ivy said quietly. “I just need some sleep.”

Dorian didn’t push, but she could tell he wasn’t convinced. “Alright. But I’m checking in tomorrow, and if you’re still acting weird, I’m dragging you out of that apartment whether you like it or not.”

A small smile tugged at Ivy’s lips despite the turmoil brewing inside her. “Deal.”

After she hung up, the silence of her apartment pressed in around her, thick and heavy. Ivy walked to the window, staring out at the city lights below. She had always loved the anonymity of the city, the way you could blend into the crowds and disappear. But tonight, even the sprawling urban jungle couldn’t hide her from whatever was coming.

A flicker of movement caught her eye, and her heart stopped.

There, standing in the shadows of the street below, was Lorne.

His eyes locked on hers, dark and unyielding. A silent promise that no matter what she did, no matter how hard she tried, there would be no escape.

The weight of the night hung heavily in Ivy’s apartment, pressing down on her chest as she lay in bed, her eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling. Sleep was a distant, elusive thing, teasing her with its promise but never delivering. No matter how much she tried, her thoughts kept drifting back to Lorne—his eyes, his voice, the way he’d appeared in the alley as though summoned from the very darkness itself. Every nerve in her body was still on edge, humming with a tension she couldn’t shake.

It was more than just fear.

There was something else—something darker, more dangerous—woven into her thoughts about him. Something she didn’t want to acknowledge. She hated how he made her feel. The possessiveness in his voice, the way he claimed her as if she belonged to him. It should have terrified her—and it did—but it also sparked something deep inside, something that frightened her even more than his presence.

Ivy tossed and turned, throwing the blankets off her as she sat up abruptly. She needed to get out of her head, to do something, anything, to stop thinking about him. The clock on her bedside table blinked 2:47 AM in cold, red digits, mocking her. The city outside her window was still alive, even in the small hours of the morning. The distant hum of traffic and the occasional shout from the streets below made the world feel so far away, so detached from the nightmare that had invaded her life.

She glanced toward the window, the curtain slightly parted, letting in just enough light to cast long, eerie shadows across her room. A part of her expected to see him there, standing in the shadows, watching her with those dark, predatory eyes. But the street outside was empty, silent, and for a brief moment, she let herself believe that maybe it had all been a mistake. Maybe she had imagined it—maybe Lorne wasn’t real.

But deep down, she knew better.

The memory of his voice, his touch, was too vivid to dismiss. The way his fingers had brushed against her skin, the way he’d whispered her name like a promise, a curse. Ivy shivered, rubbing her arms as if to erase the sensation. She stood up, pacing across the room, trying to calm her racing thoughts.

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, startling her out of her spiraling thoughts. She snatched it up, relief flooding through her when she saw Dorian’s name flashing on the screen.

Dorian: Hey, are you okay? Can’t sleep either?

Ivy hesitated before typing a response. She didn’t want to worry him, but at the same time, she couldn’t keep pretending everything was normal. Not after last night. Her fingers hovered over the screen, torn between confiding in him and keeping him safe from the chaos that was closing in around her.

Ivy: I’m fine. Just can’t sleep. You?

A response came almost instantly.

Dorian: Same. Want to talk?

Ivy sat down on the edge of the bed, her shoulders slumping in exhaustion. She wanted nothing more than to hear Dorian’s voice, to let him talk her down from the ledge she was teetering on. But at the same time, she didn’t want him to get involved in this. Whatever was happening with Lorne, it felt too dangerous. Too dark. And Dorian—he was light. He was warmth. She couldn’t let him be dragged into the shadows with her.

Ivy: I’m okay. We can talk tomorrow.

She pressed send before she could change her mind, her heart sinking as the message delivered. She could almost hear the disappointment in Dorian’s silence, even through the screen.

The minutes ticked by, and Ivy stood up again, unable to stay still. Her nerves were frayed, her mind a tangled mess of fear, desire, and confusion. She wandered toward the window, peering out at the empty street below. The shadows seemed deeper tonight, more oppressive, as if the darkness itself was watching her, waiting for her to make a move.

And then she saw him.

Lorne.

He was standing in the same spot he’d been the night before, his tall frame cloaked in shadows, his face obscured by the dim streetlight. But Ivy didn’t need to see his face to know it was him. She could feel him—like a storm on the horizon, his presence crackling in the air between them.

Her breath hitched, her pulse quickening as a chill ran down her spine. What was he doing here? How had he found her again? Panic flared in her chest, but it was quickly drowned by something else—something she didn’t want to admit.

Curiosity. And, worse, the pull of attraction.

Lorne’s eyes locked on hers, even from this distance, and it was like a tether snapped into place between them. Ivy’s hand gripped the windowsill, her knuckles turning white as she fought the urge to go to him, to step outside into the night and let him wrap her in whatever dark spell he seemed to cast over her.

No, she told herself. Stay inside. Don’t let him in.

But she couldn’t look away.

The moments stretched, tension thickening in the air between them, until finally, Lorne moved. He took a step back, disappearing into the shadows like he’d never been there at all. Ivy exhaled sharply, her body trembling with a mixture of relief and frustration. She wanted him gone, but at the same time, his absence left a void inside her that she didn’t know how to fill.

What was happening to her? Why was she reacting like this to a man who terrified her? A man who had no right to invade her life the way he had. She needed answers—needed to understand why he was so fixated on her, why he’d come into her world and turned it upside down.

But deep down, Ivy feared that she already knew the answer. There was something between them—something dark and ancient, something she couldn’t explain but couldn’t deny. And the more she resisted, the stronger it seemed to become.

With trembling hands, she pulled the curtain closed, shutting out the night and the shadows. But even as she crawled back into bed, pulling the covers up to her chin, she knew it was futile.

Lorne was in her thoughts now, in her blood. And no matter how hard she tried, there was no shutting him out.