Zayan's footsteps were slow and heavy as he returned to his room. His jaw was clenched, and the taste of guilt lingered on his tongue like poison. Nora had fallen asleep in his arms just moments ago, soft and peaceful—too peaceful for the chaos brewing in his mind.
He pushed the door open and stepped inside, expecting silence.
Instead, his eyes landed on Nathaira—lounging on his bed like a predator waiting for its prey. She wore a sheer nightgown, one that left little to the imagination. Her dark hair spilled over her shoulders, and her painted lips curved into a sly smile.
"You're finally here," she purred, stretching seductively. "Why don't you come closer, Zayan? Let's make this night unforgettable… together."
Zayan didn't move. His fury flared instantly, blood pounding in his ears. His fists clenched at his sides.
"Get. The fuck. Out of my room. Now." His voice was thunder, laced with venom.
Nathaira's smirk faltered.
He stepped forward, eyes blazing. "I swear, if you ever pull this stunt again, I won't be so forgiving."
Her face drained of color. She scrambled off the bed and dashed out of the room, her pride trailing behind her like a broken chain.
The door slammed shut behind her.
Zayan stood there, breathing hard, every muscle in his body coiled tight. The audacity. The desperation in her eyes. He wasn't just disgusted—he was furious. At her, at himself, at everything he couldn't control.
His rage simmered under his skin as he paced, his mind screaming. But then—
A sound.
A soft creak of the garden gate.
He moved to the window and looked down.
Nora.
She was outside, sitting alone on the iron bench, arms wrapped around herself. The moonlight bathed her in silver. The clock read 11:54 PM—just minutes away from her birthday.
Without a second thought, Zayan left the room and headed outside.
She didn't notice him at first. Her eyes were distant, heavy with thoughts. Maybe dreams. Maybe pain.
"Nora," he said softly.
She turned, a little startled. "I couldn't sleep."
Zayan sat beside her, close enough to feel the warmth of her skin through the night air. He looked down at his phone, then at her.
"It's midnight," he said. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Happy Birthday, Nora."
Her lips parted slightly in surprise. "You remembered…"
He leaned closer, voice low and dangerous in the stillness of the night. "Tonight, I will make you mine."
Then he stood, his eyes lingering on her as if claiming her with a glance, and walked back inside, leaving her breathless.
Nora sat there, heart pounding.
Be his? How…?
Her fingers tightened around the edge of the bench.
The air felt different now.
And she knew—nothing would ever be the same again.