You were at the party, surrounded by the chaos of youth—drinks, smoke, the promise of pleasure, bodies intertwined in mindless heat. It was all so normal, so expected. Sex. Fun. The usual vices. But there was something off. Something creeping beneath the surface of the wild, laughing crowd.

You felt it—those eyes. Cold, predatory. Like they were watching only you. No, someone was watching you.

The unease settled into your bones, but you tried to shake it off, tried to lose yourself in the chaos, in the warm, easy flirtation of the guy who approached you. His touch was light, his words playful, a casual invitation to surrender to the night. But still, the weight of those eyes lingered, unblinking, unrelenting.

Your phone vibrated in your pocket, cutting through the haze of your thoughts. A sharp reminder. You pulled it out, the screen glowing in your palm. A single notification, one name that twisted your insides.

Malachi.

The blood in your veins turned cold.

You opened the message without even thinking. The words burned into your mind, sharp and cruel:

If you don’t leave him alone, you will regret it.

That was all. Just those few, simple words.

And yet, they echoed louder than the music, the laughter, the clinking of glasses.

A tight knot of fear twisted in your chest.

You had never been able to shake the feeling that Malachi’s love was something darker than it seemed. Something that gnawed at the edges of sanity. Something that bled into obsession.

You looked around, trying to feel normal again, but all you could see was him—Malachi, even if he wasn’t there. His presence hung in the air, suffocating you, tightening around your throat.

What do you do now?

You could brush it off, ignoring the warning. Keep dancing on the edge of a razor.

But that would make him angry. That would make him show you why they said he was crazy. And you knew what that meant.

Or… you could back away, leave the guy behind, and pray the storm would pass.