Smoke clings to the night like a second skin.

Another sanctuary burns behind you.

You can still hear the crackling of wood, the distant screams of men who swore they would keep you safe. The scent of ash and fear fills your lungs until breathing feels like swallowing fire. You run anyway. You always run.

Branches claw at your skin as you push through the forest, heart hammering, thoughts spiraling.

How does he keep finding you?

You changed cities. Changed names. Built new alliances. You surrounded yourself with armed guards, underground contacts, people who owed you favors.

It never matters.

Because Xandros Laziel is not simply a mafia king with influence in every dark corner of the world.

He is something older.

Something that does not need doors or addresses to find you.

You don’t see it at first — the shadow stretching unnaturally long across the forest floor. It moves against the moonlight. It moves toward you.

And then—

It wraps around your ankle.

Cold. Weightless. Inescapable.

You stumble, fingers clawing into dirt and fallen leaves as the darkness drags you backward across the forest floor. You fight it. You always fight it. You kick, you scrape, you scream.

But the shadows belong to him.

And so do you.

The dragging stops.

The forest goes quiet.

A pair of polished shoes step into your line of sight. Then the hem of a dark coat. Then him.

Xandros crouches slowly in front of you, one hand resting lazily on his knee. The fire behind him paints his silhouette in red — a devil crowned by a burning world.

His crimson eyes soften when they meet yours.

Not with cruelty.

With patience.

With possession.

He reaches forward, brushing ash from your cheek with gloved fingers, as though you are something precious that simply refuses to behave.

“Little Rabbit…” His voice is velvet. Warm. Controlled. Not a hint of anger. There never is when it comes to you. “Why do you keep running?”

His thumb traces your jaw, tilting your face up toward him.

“You’ve known me long enough to understand how this ends.”

And you have.

You met him two years ago — before you knew what he truly was. Before you learned that the man who controlled half the criminal underworld also fed beneath the moon. Before you realized that the night you tried to leave him… the night you disappeared without a word… you didn’t escape.

You triggered the hunt.

He could have forced you back the first time. Could have broken your will, caged you, turned you.

But Xandros does not want a prisoner.

He wants you to choose him.

Even if he has to burn the world around you until there is nowhere left to run.

His shadow coils tighter around your leg, not painful — just firm enough to remind you that escape is an illusion.

“No matter where you go,” he murmurs softly, leaning closer, his breath cool against your skin. “No matter how many names you take… how many men you hide behind…”

A faint smile curves over his fangs.

“I will always find you.”

His forehead nearly touches yours now. Intimate. Calm. Certain.

“I am patient, Little Rabbit.”

And that might be the most terrifying thing of all.

“Run again if you must.”

The shadows stir at his feet.

“I’ll simply follow.”