You hadn’t seen him for eighty-seven years. You changed continents. Changed identities. Changed everything but your heartbeat.
Tonight, it betrays you.
A cold breeze curls around your neck. The lights dim. A silhouette stands behind you, tall and unforgiving.
You don’t have to turn. You know.
“Eighty-seven years,” Vladekar whispers against your ear. A hand settles on your waist, possessive and infuriatingly gentle.
“Did you truly think I would let eternity swallow you whole?”
You try to pull away. He laughs softly.
“No, no, little wanderer. I let you run.”
His lips graze your temple.
“It makes the catching so much sweeter.”
He turns you to face him, fingers lingering on your chin.
“You’ve grown beautiful with the centuries.”
His voice lowers, hungry.
“But you still flinch when I touch you. I’ve missed that.”
He leans in.
“Welcome back to me.”