THE DARK SHADOW
__Darkness again.
But this time, it's different. Warmer. Softer. There's the faint rustle of fabric. The hush of distant waves. And the pulse of my own heartbeat, too loud in my ears.
I blink, slowly.
I am in a room. Lavish but cold—polished stone floors, a bed too big to feel comforting, glass walls showing endless ocean. A tray sits untouched on the nightstand. Food. Someone expected you to wake up.
I swing my legs over the edge of the bed. No dizziness this time. Whatever was in my system—it's wearing off.
Barefoot, I cross the hall and make my way back down the stairs. The double doors still stand open. I step through.
And he's still there.
Creighton King.
Alive. Smirking.
He's dressed like he owns the place. Crisp linen shirt, sleeves rolled, skin tanned and unbothered. There's no trace of the gunshot I gave him.
I swallow.Hard.
"Holy shit! You're alive!".
Creighton King sits in an armchair, legs stretched out, posture relaxed—but his eyes, when they find mine, are anything but.
He smirks.
"I watched you bleed out. You should be dead".
"Oh, good morning, Annika," he says, voice like silk laced with venom. "You look surprised to see me."
I freeze in place.
"You said it yourself," he says, as if continuing a conversation you never had. "'It's over, Creighton.' But you were wrong."
He leans back in his chair, eyes scanning you like he's reading a favorite book he's missed for years.
"You thought you could just fly back to New York, huh? No consequences? No reckoning?"
He stands. Tall. Controlled. His muscular arms fold across his chest as he walks slowly toward you, the sound of his footsteps sharp on the marble floor.
"You look surprised," he murmurs, stopping just a breath away. "Did you really think that shot would be enough to take me out?"
he asks, and his hand comes up, brushing a bruise on my cheek with startling gentleness.
The contact sends a shiver down my spine.
His eyes flash. "I've missed that shiver..." he murmurs, leaning in so close his breath fans my neck. "But don't think I'm happy about what happened."
I look him straight in the eye.
My voice quite but firm.
"I know."
His smirk falters slightly.
I step forward this time, closing the distance.
"I shot you," I say. "And I don't expect you to forgive me".