The Wishper Of shadows

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.

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