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I gasp, the deep voice closer. Another sinister chuckle echoes, and Jesus Christ, this man is capable of evil. No one sane sounds like that.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I take three deep, calming breaths, trying to ease my racing heart.

He’s fucking with me. Trying to scare me. And it’s fucking working when I’m trapped in a maze of mirrors, and he’s laughing like a goddamn lunatic.

He can’t just let me have my night, can he? For once, I didn’t think about him and my conflicting feelings. And though Zade doesn’t quite scare me as much—except for maybe right now—the feelings he brings out of me certainly do.

Maybe if I keep quiet, he won’t find me.

Restarting my path, I quicken my pace until I’m speed walking through the labyrinth of mirrors.

I’ve no idea how far I am, but I don’t even think I’ve made it halfway through.

It’s right then that I see the first image of Zade reflected back at me. Dressed in all black, with his scarred face hidden deep in his hood. I gasp, whipping around just to find more of his reflection.

He’s not behind me, but he’s somewhere close.

“Stop it,” I bite out, fear constricting my chest.

He doesn’t answer, and of course, the fucker doesn’t listen. I’m caught in a whirlwind, my body continuously moving in circles, desperate to pin exactly where he is.

“You all alone, baby girl?”

I swallow. “Obviously,” I whisper, still searching for where he is. It feels like I shouldn’t have said that.

“No one here to save you?”

> A shot of anxiety hits me in the chest.

“Why the hell would I need to be saved, Zade? You going to hurt me?”

It’s then he lifts his head, just enough for me to provide a view of his mouth. A wicked smirk is stretched across those lips.

I try to remember that he won’t hurt me. He was just in my bed a week ago, sad and vulnerable. By the time I opened my eyes in the morning, he was gone, and I haven’t heard from him since.

But my brain is having trouble connecting who he is now to who he was then.

Because now… he looks savage.

“I’m going to ruin you,” he corrects. I take a step back, a lump forming in my throat. His image moves, his body walking in a different direction. Is he coming closer? I can’t tell. I take another step back, the adrenaline in my system rising to dangerous levels.

He’s scaring me.

“Run,” he growls. My lungs constrict at the guttural command. “If I catch you, I fuck you.”

Eyes widening, I listen, my body catapulting into action.

I run.

In here, I’m completely vulnerable to him. I’m well and truly trapped in the spider’s web, and the son of a bitch is poisonous.

His reflection follows me everywhere I go. There were a few times I was convinced I’d truly lost him, seeing nothing but my own image. And then he’d step out from somewhere, crushing my hopes.

After a few minutes, I’m out of breath. The adrenaline and fear are getting to me. My chest is constricted too tight, my lungs reduced to strings and no longer capable of holding oxygen.

I’m lost and trapped with a very dangerous man who is going to absolutely devastate me. I don’t think I’m running from him anymore, but rather from the person I’m going to be when he’s finished with me.

I was ready to give myself over to him when he emerged from my balcony doors and came to me with a heavy heart. The man put some type of spell on me, because when he was hurting, all I wanted to do was make him feel better. Give myself over to him if that’s what would help.