She should've run.
That's what most people would do after hearing voices in the dark and watching a door open itself.
But Selene wasn't most people.
She stepped into the bedroom like she was stepping into a memory — one stitched with shadows and bad decisions. Moonlight cut across the floor like a blade, revealing dust motes swirling through the air, dancing to a rhythm she couldn't hear.
But he could.
"You're colder than I expected," the voice rumbled again, close this time. Too close.
She froze.
There was no breeze. No window open. Yet her hair lifted off her neck. Her skin tingled as if fingers — invisible, insistent — were brushing against her throat.
"You came here to escape. But this place isn't empty, Selene. It's mine."
She felt something at her back. Not touching — not quite — but hovering. Dense, electric. She turned sharply.
Nothing.
And yet… she wasn't alone.
A rush of heat rolled through her stomach. It wasn't fear. It was darker than that. More intimate.
He was inside the room.
No—inside her mind.
"I watched you unpack. I watched you in the shower. You talk to yourself when you think no one's listening. But I hear every breath. Every moan. Every lie you tell yourself about not needing anyone."
She swallowed hard.
"You're just a ghost," she said, trying to keep her voice steady.
"No, little sinner," he whispered, "I'm your ghost."
The air exploded with pressure. The lightbulb overhead sparked and shattered. Selene's knees buckled — something slammed into her, held her against the wall, cold and scorching all at once.
Hands she couldn't see pinned her wrists. A mouth she couldn't touch dragged along her throat, lips brushing her skin like smoke and sin.
She gasped — not in pain. In need.
Her body betrayed her, arching into the unseen hold, breath ragged, lips parting without permission.
"You think your scars make you strong? I can taste them in your blood," Lucian growled into her ear. "You think you're alone? I live inside your loneliness."
Her vision blurred. Not from fear — from arousal. From rage. From the horrifying realization that she wanted this — this ghost, this torment, this dark fucking thing that felt more real than anything human ever had.
"Why me?" she managed to whisper.
Silence.
And then his voice came, like thunder wrapped in velvet:
"Because you're more haunted than I am."
She didn't cry.
She didn't scream.
She shattered — in silence, in heat, in defiance.
Then he was gone.
Just like that.
The pressure lifted. The air lightened. The room was silent — except for the racing of her pulse and the trembling of her breath.
Selene slid down the wall, body flushed and legs shaking.
And for the first time in years, she smiled.
🔥 End of Chapter 2 🔥