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Tonight officially broke my brain.

There’s no other way to explain it—no reasonable box I can shove this into that doesn’t end with me questioning reality and my own sanity. Shadows shouldn’t talk. Sandwiches don’t eat themselves. And mustard sure as hell doesn’t spell out creepy-ass love notes on its own.

And yet… here I am.

Staring at the counter, where a sandwich that I know neither of us touched has a giant bite taken out of it.

Nope.

Nope, nope, fucking nope.

My brain is screaming leave, run while you can , but my legs aren’t listening. Not yet. I’m stuck here—frozen—watching Parker hover like she’s waiting for something worse to happen. And maybe she is. Maybe she always is.

She looks… wrecked. Tense and pale, her fingers gripping the edge of the counter like it’s the only thing keeping her upright. She doesn’t even look real. Like she belongs to another realm. Untouchable. Ethereal.

And fuck, she’s beautiful.

I’ll never admit how often Parker has dominated my thoughts and dreams—some innocent, most decidedly not. Seeing her scowl at me from behind the bakery counter always feels like a challenge, one I willingly accept every shift. Earning even the slightest smile from her feels like winning the goddamn lottery.

And that smile? Fuck, that rare, haunted, angelic smile stops my heart every damn time. It’s like she hoards her joy, rationing it out only to those deemed worthy.

I so desperately want to be worthy.

But this? This thing with shadows, voices, and mustard notes?

I’m in over my head.

She saved my life tonight. More than once. And all I could do was stare like an idiot while her world—this secret, terrifying world—cracked open in front of me. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with any of this. I don’t know what I’m ready for, but it sure as hell isn’t this .

I push away from the counter, my throat dry, heart thudding like a war drum. Every part of me is screaming to get out of here—to run. Because if I don’t, I’ll either lose my grip on reality, or I’ll fall harder for a girl wrapped in darkness and a past that clearly wants to devour people.

“Hudson?” Parker’s voice stops me. Quiet. Unsteady. Unlike anything I’ve ever heard from her.

I turn slightly, glancing at her over my shoulder. Her arms are wrapped around her middle like they’re the only things holding her together.

“Please,” she whispers. “Just stay until the sun comes up. So I know he won’t follow you home.”

Her voice cracks on the word home, and it’s like a fist punches me square in the chest.

God. Somehow she’s still standing.

After everything that’s just happened—the man in black, the voice, the fucking sandwich—she’s still here, holding the line like it’s second nature.

And me?

I’ve been joking around like a fucking idiot. Calling her Snow Pea like it was funny. But now I can hear that voice— his voice—rasping that nickname.

Snow Pea.

I’m such a dick.

No wonder she asked me to stop.

I want to fix it. I want to be someone who’s strong enough to face whatever nightmare stalks her.

But the truth is, I’m barely holding it together. I feel like prey. Like the second I close my eyes, something will sink its teeth into me and drag me into the dark.

“I… I don’t know what’s going on, Parker,” I say, voice rougher than I mean it to be. “But whatever this is—it’s clear you don’t need someone else tangled up in it.”

I don’t even know how to help her with all of this. If it had only been the panic attacks? I would’ve gladly held her and helped her find her focus and breath over and over. But shadowy figures that pop out of nowhere and grab her like, like… I’m not sure how to describe the way she looks when that thing has its hold on her. I’m not sure she even knows.

She doesn’t try to stop me again, only watches as I open the door and step onto the porch. The wind slaps me in the face like the universe is whispering, yeah, go ahead—run.

I mutter a shaky, “See you around,” and shut the door behind me.

But even as I walk away, every instinct in me says I’m making the wrong choice.

And I have no idea how to make it right.

* * *

I’ve got a bit of a walk ahead of me. Thankfully, the storm has finally eased. The wind is still howling, but now it’s pushing away the heavy clouds. Stars dot the inky sky, and the moon shines just bright enough to cast a silvery glow over everything.

It should feel peaceful.

It doesn’t.

The street is slick beneath my shoes. I stepped into a puddle so deep outside Parker’s place during our scramble that water soaked straight through my socks. Now every step squelches, loud and wet, like the world is mocking me.

I hustle toward the east side of town, toward the comforting familiarity of my parents’ horse ranch.

Creek Haven’s always felt like home. I know it like the back of my hand—every street corner, every shortcut, every place I used to sneak off to. In high school, this whole town was my playground. Late nights, dumb dares, hooking up with pretty girls behind barns, sneaking beers under the bleachers. I’d convinced myself that nothing truly bad could ever happen here.

But tonight, everything feels different. Tonight, I’m not the one sneaking through the dark.

I’m being hunted.

An uneasy feeling tightens my gut as I quicken my pace, constantly glancing over my shoulder. The wind whispers ominously through the rustling trees, and my heart hammers each time a branch creaks. Normally, I’d laugh at myself for this kind of paranoia—but tonight, after all the impossible things I’ve seen and felt, I can't brush this off.

Parker’s terrified expression when that voice spoke from the shadows plays on a loop in my mind. How could I have just left her alone? She saved my life twice in one night, and I repaid her by running away.

“You’re an idiot, Hudson,” I mutter bitterly, guilt gnawing at me.

I round the corner onto Ranch Road, the final stretch home, my body now humming with a primal instinct to run. Everything inside me screams danger, like something ancient and predatory is closing in, just out of sight.

Fuck it.

I break into a sprint, ignoring the mud splattering my jeans, soaking through my shoes. Adrenaline surges through me, driving me forward. The ranch gate looms ahead, bathed in moonlight. Just as relief begins to flood me, my foot catches on something solid—a fallen branch I hadn't noticed in the darkness—and I hit the ground hard, scraping my palms and tearing open both knees of my pants.

“Fuck’s sake,” I hiss through clenched teeth, pushing myself up from the muddy road.

“Do not flee, little mortal. You will not win.”

My blood freezes solid as the same eerie voice from earlier curls around me, coming from nowhere and everywhere at once like an echo on the wind. My breath hitches and my heart beats into a panicked tempo, fear like I’ve never felt before shooting adrenaline into my system faster than I can react.

I should’ve known escaping that thing wouldn’t be this easy. Obviously, he let me go so he could hunt me on his own terms.

I’ve never been scared of much and my usual reaction is to face it head on, but how do you fight off something you don’t see coming? Even Parker ran and she seems to know a hell of a lot more about all this than she lets on.

I don’t bother dusting myself off, immediately breaking into a desperate sprint toward the gate. My feet pound the ground, dodging fallen branches, splashing through puddles left by the storm. Fear coils tighter around me, squeezing the air from my lungs.

I reach the gate, vaulting over it in one fluid movement—a maneuver I’ve done a thousand times, but never with my heart pounding so violently, never fueled by terror. I stumble slightly upon landing but quickly regain my footing and sprint down the familiar tree-lined path toward the farmhouse.

“You’ve made a grave mistake, little human,” the voice whispers, the sound drifting around me like silken shadows, darkly amused and dripping with a clear threat. “You dared to touch what's mine. For that, I’ll savor every last gasp you make as I strip the life from your body.”

The trees lining the path seem to lean inward, their twisted branches reaching out like clawed fingers, scraping at my clothes, tearing the fabric of my shirt and jeans. I fight through them, gasping, my heart hammering, until I finally burst from the trees and collapse onto the porch of my parents’ house, breathless and shaking violently.

I made it. Holy shit, I actually made it.

“You can’t escape me, Human. Did you truly believe you could outrun Death?”

I freeze, the air in my lungs trapped, before I twist to face the figure, my heart pounding.

Panic surges through me as I lift my head, my stomach churning with dread. Standing at the bottom of the porch steps is a figure—a man cloaked entirely in shadows, impossibly tall, features obscured beneath swirling darkness. Two burning orange eyes pierce through the gloom, watching me with malevolent hunger.

No face. No solid form. Just shadow and darkness, like a nightmare brought to life.

I can’t breathe.

I know I’m going to die. Here. Now. On the porch I used to leave my muddy boots on after feeding the horses.

Parker told me to wait. She told me to stay until morning. And I didn’t listen.

Parker.

Goddammit. She’s been fighting this thing her whole life, hasn’t she? Alone. Surviving something that makes my knees buckle and my heart falter with fear. The way she moved earlier, dodging branches like she’d trained all her life for it...

Clenching my teeth, I force myself upright despite the heavy fog clouding my thoughts, planting my feet and facing the shadowy figure head-on. If I’m going down tonight, I won’t go down without a fight.

“Where’s your scythe, asshole?” I shout, faking bravado that I definitely don’t feel.

The shadow pauses at my words, tilting its head as if amused. An echoing chuckle reverberates around me, shaking my bones and sending icy tendrils of fear down my spine.

“I require no blade to tear your soul apart,” he rasps, voice dripping with cruel delight. “I shall drain your essence slowly, savoring every delicious drop until you are naught but a hollow shell. Perhaps not as intoxicating as my sweet Snow Pea, but satisfying nonetheless.”

He uses her nickname with so much familiarity, so much possessiveness, I can’t help but feel like an even bigger idiot for having called her that and not listening when she asked me to stop. If I survive tonight, I’m going to have to apologize. A lot.

Weakness floods my limbs suddenly, my knees threatening to give out. My head feels fuzzy, heavy, thoughts slipping from my grasp like sand. He's draining me, stealing my strength, my life force. Panic floods my veins.

I struggle to stay upright, stumbling backward, trying desperately to reach the door behind me. My vision blurs as darkness creeps into the edges of my sight. My heart pounds wildly, weakly, my breath shallow and uneven.

“Parker...” Her name slips from my lips—a desperate plea, a prayer, the only coherent thought left in my fading consciousness.

My legs buckle, and I collapse, slamming hard onto the wooden porch. The world around me shifts violently, suddenly flooded with brilliant white light. I hear an inhuman screech, echoing and furious, just before my vision fades entirely to black.

The last image burned into my fading mind is a vision of Parker’s stunning silvery-white hair, shimmering brightly in the darkness, her face illuminated with strength and defiance.

Then everything goes silent.