The Dawn

Chapter Two.

Her.

His presence was a curse, a dark, maddening force that wrapped itself around me, making it impossible to think straight. I hated how my body responded to him, the way my pulse quickened and warmth pooled in places I didn't want to acknowledge. He was insufferable, and I was determined not to let him see how much he affected me.

But as he stood there, arrogance radiating from every inch of his tall, imposing frame, I knew I was in for a battle. He was beautiful in the way a storm was beautiful, unpredictable, dangerous, and devastatingly powerful. His dark eyes gleamed with something like amusement as he caught me staring, and a slow, mocking smile curved his lips.

"Enjoying the view?" His voice was smooth, laced with sarcasm, and I immediately wanted to wipe that smug look off his face.

"Hardly," I shot back, narrowing my eyes at him. "You're blocking the moonlight."

He chuckled, the sound low and irritatingly self-assured. "Such sharp words from someone so clearly out of her depth."

I bristled at the insult, my heart pounding with anger, at him, at myself for being here, and most of all, at the treacherous heat that refused to dissipate no matter how much I tried to ignore it. "I'm not afraid of you," I lied, though I knew the words rang hollow.

"No?" He took a step closer, the air between us charged with a tension that was both thrilling and terrifying. "Then why are you trembling?"

Damn him. He was too perceptive, too smug, and entirely too close. I could feel the heat radiating from his body, the scent of him, something dark and intoxicating, filling my senses. I swallowed hard, determined not to let him see how much he was getting to me.

"I'm not trembling," I said, forcing steel into my voice. "I'm just repulsed by your proximity."

His smile widened, and I hated how my breath caught at the sight of it. He was enjoying this—enjoying the way he was affecting me, and it made me want to scream. "If you say so," he murmured, his tone dripping with condescension.

He reached out then, his hand brushing against my arm, and I tensed, fighting the urge to step back. His touch was light, almost teasing, and it sent a jolt of heat through me that I despised. "Careful, little flame," he said softly, his eyes gleaming with wicked amusement. "You might burn yourself."

"I'd rather burn than be at your mercy," I snapped, jerking my arm away from him. The words were sharp, but I could hear the edge of desperation in them, and I knew he did too.

He arched an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by my defiance. "Is that so? Because from where I'm standing, you're already halfway there."

I glared at him, furious that he was right, that he could see through my bravado to the desire simmering just beneath the surface. But I wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he affected me. "You're delusional," I said, my voice dripping with disdain. "I'd rather kiss a snake than give in to you."

"Now that's a shame," he drawled, his tone mocking. "Because I was just starting to think we might have some fun."

Fun. The word made me bristle, and I could feel the anger bubbling up inside me, threatening to spill over. He was so arrogant, so sure of himself, and it made me want to lash out, to hurt him the way he was hurting me, by making me feel things I didn't want to feel.

"Go find someone else to toy with," I spat, my voice trembling with the effort it took to keep my emotions in check. "I'm not interested."

His eyes darkened, and for a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of something dangerous pass through them. But then he smiled again, that infuriating, self-satisfied smile that made my blood boil. "You can lie to yourself all you want, little flame," he said, his voice silky and insidious. "But we both know the truth."

I hated how close he was, how his breath ghosted over my skin, how every word he spoke seemed to wrap around me like a noose. I wanted to scream, to push him away, but I knew that would only give him more power over me. So I did the only thing I could, I fought back with words, hoping to wound him the way he was wounding me.

"The truth?" I sneered, lifting my chin defiantly. "The truth is you're nothing but a coward, hiding behind your power and your arrogance because you're too afraid to face the fact that no one really cares about you. You're pathetic."

The words hung in the air between us, sharp and bitter, and I watched as his eyes narrowed, the smile slipping from his face. For a moment, I thought I had finally gotten to him, that I had managed to hit a nerve. But then his expression changed, hardening into something cold and calculating, and I knew I had only made things worse.

"Is that what you think?" he asked, his voice dangerously soft. He took another step closer, his hand reaching out to cup my chin, forcing me to look up at him. "Let me tell you something, little flame. You're in my world now, and the sooner you accept that, the easier it will be for you."

I wanted to pull away, to break free of his grip, but his touch was firm, and there was a darkness in his eyes that made me pause. "You can try to fight me all you want," he continued, his voice a low, menacing purr. "But in the end, you'll realize that resistance is futile. I always get what I want."

His words sent a shiver of fear through me, but I refused to let him see it. "You don't scare me," I said, my voice trembling slightly despite my best efforts.

He smirked, clearly enjoying the challenge. "Then you're a fool," he said, his thumb brushing over my lips in a gesture that felt both intimate and demeaning. "But I suppose that makes this all the more interesting."

I hated him. I hated the way he made me feel, the way he seemed to see right through me, stripping away my defenses with ease. But most of all, I hated the fact that, despite everything, a part of me wanted to give in, to let him take what he wanted, to surrender to the dark, dangerous pull of his power.

But I wouldn't. I couldn't.

"I won't be your plaything," I whispered, my voice raw with the effort of holding back the tears that threatened to spill.

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispered, "We'll see."

And with that, he released me, stepping back with a smirk that told me he knew exactly what he was doing, knew that he was already inside my head, that he had already won the first battle in a war that I wasn't sure I could win.

But as he turned and disappeared into the shadows, leaving me standing there, shaken and furious, I made a vow to myself.

I wouldn't let him win. No matter what it took, I would find a way to beat him at his own game. Because as much as he wanted to use me, I was determined to turn the tables on him.

And maybe, just maybe, I would find a way to bring him to his knees.