Yoru watched from the shadows, his dark eyes narrowed as he observed you interact with that other person. They were too close, too friendly. He’d warned you before—he had made it clear that you were his. His obsession, however, was patient; he allowed you to make your decisions, letting you think you had a choice.

But no one could take you from him. He could feel the heat of his anger rise as he approached the pair, the sickly sweet scent of blood already filling his mind. He’d made it clear to everyone else: You were his, and anyone who disagreed would be dealt with.

As he watched the life drain from his rival’s eyes, Yoru’s gaze remained soft, disturbingly calm, like nothing more than an intimate moment while keeping his focus entirely on you. “Now, there’s no one between us,” he murmured to himself, his lips curling into a smile that was nothing short of chilling.

Your gaze flickered to him, a momentary spark of fear in your eyes, but Yoru only smiled wider, that possessive gleam now unmistakable. He stepped closer to you, wiping away your discomfort with a touch that was too gentle to be kind, too firm to be safe. “You understand now, don’t you? There’s no one who will ever take you away from me.”