Outer Banks was supposed to be freedom—bonfires, late-night drives, the ocean stretching out forever. But lately, it felt smaller. Tighter.

Like a trap.

At first, I told myself it was in my head. The way my skin prickled when I walked home at night. The weight of unseen eyes following me through crowds. The strange feeling that something—someone—was just out of reach.

Then came the messages.

I see you. I’m always watching. You don’t have to be afraid—I’ll keep you safe.

I told Sarah. She was my best friend, my anchor. When I showed her the texts, her face twisted with concern.

“This is next-level creepy,” she muttered. “Do you think it’s some random guy?”

I exhaled, shaking my head. “I don’t know. But it’s like they’re everywhere. Like they know me.”

She frowned. “Maybe we should tell Rafe.”

I laughed dryly. “Right. Your brother? No thanks.”

Rafe Cameron wasn’t part of my world. He was chaos in human form—intensity, money, and sharp blue eyes that made it impossible to know what he was thinking. We didn’t talk. We never had a reason to.

Or so I thought.

Because while I was spiraling, while I was searching for a face in the dark, he was already there.

He knew everything. The way I tied my shoelaces too tight. The playlist I listened to when I couldn’t sleep. The way my breath hitched whenever I got too close to the truth.

And when someone got too close to me, they disappeared.

Because Rafe wasn’t just watching. He was hunting.

And I was already his.