The Chosen One •

15

✨ Isabel ✨

I laid in bed, my body cocooned under layers of blankets, the faint sounds of sad Spanish ballads filling the air. The music was my only solace these days, wrapping around me like an emotional balm. The semester was almost over—one more grueling week of finals before Christmas break. I hadn't planned on going home, but Antonio had been persistent in his check-ins, coaxing a fragile sense of normalcy back into my life. He didn't know about Kun. And he never would.

The door creaked open, interrupting my thoughts. "Go away, Tara," I mumbled, my voice muffled beneath the covers.

But then I smelled him.

That scent—earthy, warm, and distinctly Kun—filled the room, and my heart stopped. My breath caught in my throat as I pulled the blanket tighter around myself, willing him to leave, to disappear.

Instead, the covers were yanked back, and I felt the weight of him sinking onto the bed behind me. Before I could react, his body curled around mine, his chest pressing firmly against my back. His arms wrapped around me, holding me in a way that felt both comforting and suffocating.

He buried his face in my hair, inhaling deeply as if he were trying to memorize my scent. The movement sent chills down my spine, my traitorous body responding to his presence despite the storm of emotions raging inside me.

I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to remember the sting of his words, the way he'd treated me.

I sat up abruptly, breaking the contact, and swung my legs over the side of the bed. I didn't look at him as I reached for my textbooks and notebooks, determined to put as much distance between us as I could, even if it was only emotional.

"Isabel, wait," he said, his voice low, almost pleading.

I ignored him, flipping through my notes, pretending to focus on the material.

"Isabel," he said again, more insistent this time. "I'm sorry."

The words hung in the air, but I couldn't bring myself to respond. It wasn't just anger that kept me silent—it was something deeper, heavier. It had been a week since I'd fully spoken a sentence to anyone, and it wasn't intentional. The words just wouldn't come.

Kun sighed, and the room fell into an uneasy quiet. He didn't leave, though. I could feel his eyes on me as I highlighted lines and scribbled notes, the silence between us stretching thinner and thinner.

"Look at me," he said softly.

Something in his tone made my head snap up despite myself. My eyes locked onto his, and for a moment, the weight of everything disappeared. His gaze softened as it traveled over my face, his intensity quiet but overwhelming.

My vision blurred with tears I couldn't hold back, and before I could stop myself, I croaked, "If you're going to reject me, just do it already so I can study."

He scoffed, leaning forward. "I'm not rejecting you, Isabel. I told you I wouldn't. I just... I needed to see you."

I swallowed hard, blinking back the tears. "Why? So you can remind me how much you hate me?"

"No," he said quickly. "That's not it. I..." He ran a hand through his hair, looking frustrated. "I've been on a mission. Jacob and I have been tracking rogues and... and magic. I saw something—someone—a shadow of a man with locs. Jacob thinks witches are working with vampires, and I—"

He stopped mid-ramble as I turned to stare at him, my confusion evident.

"Repeat that," I said, my voice sharper than I intended.