I didn't think I had it in me to feel fear again.
But somehow, staring at him,
I was terrified.
The very atmosphere seemed to shift at his presence.
As if the world itself had realized something unnatural had entered its space.
He prowled forward, slow and unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world.
Each step was a death sentence.
And the floorboards felt it. A faint tremor followed every movement, like even the ground itself feared him.
The lively hum of the outside world fell silent.
No birds.
No rustling leaves.
Not even the whisper of wind.
Like every living creature had decided, all at once, that it was safer not to breathe.
He looked young. Late teens, maybe early twenties.
But that was a lie.
Because no one that age could hold this much power in a single space. No one could make the very air bow at their presence.
And then—
His eyes met mine.
"You're far more interesting than I expected."
His voice was sin itself. Sin wrapped in a sarcastic tone. Like he knew a secret I didn't.
Heat curled in my stomach, sharp and sudden, but I forced my expression into stone. Because his eyes...
Ice blue. Pure ice.
They were as dangerous as they were beautiful. Like glaciers waiting in the blackest depths, still and patient, ready to pull you under and never let you go. Cold. Calculating. Exquisite.
The kind of eyes that could destroy you.
And make you thank them for it.
I couldn't look away.
The world faded, shrinking into nothing. Only those beautiful, damned blue eyes remained.
He stopped. Leaned against the wall, arms folding across his chest.
Watching me.
Unwavering.
Like he had already won.
His ivory skin almost glowed in the dim light, casting a faint, otherworldly aura.
He looked like a shadow made flesh.
Dressed in black from head to toe. Dark silk shirt. Dark pants. Dark shoes. And yet elegant. And utterly perfect.
Was he even real?
An apparition? A ghost?
No.
Because those eyes...
Those eyes weren't hollow. They were alive.
They whispered promises I couldn't hear, but felt deep in my bones.
Every instinct in me screamed.
Run.
But I couldn't.
Even as something dark twisted in my stomach, my feet—
Betrayed me.
I moved toward him. Step by step. Helpless. Hypnotized. And happily at his mercy.
YOU ARE READING
The Demon's Half
RomansaMorgan just lost her father and he left her and her sister with nothing but debt. With only nineteen years old, Morgan has to find a way to make ends meet, but her sister insists on contacting her father with the help of a ouija board, to see if he...
