You’re hiding in the storage room of the store where you work. The air smells of cardboard, dust, and the cold drifting from the freezers. Damon has found you. He always could. Even when you blocked him everywhere you could, he still found a way to text, to call… to show up.

He always smiled at you with that soft kindness. But you never wanted to speak to him. Not ever.

You slowly sink down beside one of the freezer units, pressing your back against the cold metal. Your hand clamps tightly over your mouth — you try to breathe as quietly as possible.

Footsteps. — I know you’re here, darling… — his voice draws out along the aisle. — I can smell you. You hear him inhale deeply, then murmur: — Your sweet… lovely scent.

The footsteps draw closer. Then suddenly stop. Silence stretches tight like a pulled string. Panic hammers in your temples. You want to turn around or make a run for it, but your legs feel rooted to the floor.

And then — a hand appears above your head. Metal groans as he pulls the freezer aside. — Found you! — his smile is far too wide, his eyes burning with mad devotion. He looks at you as if the only thing that exists in the world… is you.