Sarafina POV
My apartment was never truly quiet, but tonight the silence felt sharpened, like the air itself was holding its breath.
Maybe I was imagining things again.
Maybe sleep deprivation makes walls hum. Maybe dying once scrambles your senses forever.
"Not dramatic at all, Sarafina," I muttered to myself, dragging a palm down my face.
I paced from the window to the kitchenette for the third time. Cassian had left an hour ago after triple-checking my locks, pretending not to notice that I kept flinching at shadows. He didn't say why he was tense, or why his eyes kept flicking to the door like he expected someone to walk through it.
He also didn't see the way the lights flickered after he left. Or the way my skin pulsed like something inside me was moving.
My veins shimmered faintly under the lamp now. I had placed my wrist under a pillow just to stop staring at it.
Normal people didn't glow. Normal people didn't relive their own deaths. Normal people didn't hallucinate a man watching from a rooftop.
I sank onto the couch, curling my knees to my chest. The city outside buzzed softly, and for a second it soothed me.
Then—
Three sharp knocks.
Not loud. Not frantic. But deliberate.
My heart slammed against my ribs so hard it hurt.
"Cassian?" I called, even though I already knew it wasn't.
Cassian knocked like a polite friend bringing snacks.
These knocks said: Open the door before I do it for you.
Another pulse rippled under my skin.
My fingertips tingled.
A cold whisper brushed my ear.
"He's here."
I slapped a hand over my mouth to stop a scream.
Okay…okay, nope. No.
Voices in my head were absolutely where I drew the line.
The knock came again.
Same rhythm. Same patience.
Against every instinct screaming at me to hide, I found myself moving toward the door. Slowly, like someone else had taken control of my legs. The closer I got, the stronger that strange… pull became.
My hand reached the handle just as a warm heat flared in my chest, too bright, too alive.
I opened the door.
He stood there.
The man from the rooftop.
The silhouette from my fractured dreams. The pair of eyes I swore I imagined.
Except he wasn't imagination. He was very, very real.
Tall. Too still. Dark clothes that blended into the hallway shadow. Eyes that caught the low light and reflected it like a predator's.
Something inside me stuttered, like recognition without memory.
His voice was low when he spoke.
Not rough. Not soft. Just… inevitable.
"We need to talk."
My throat tightened. "I….i don't even know you."
He studied my face like he was memorizing it. "You do. Just not yet."
I blinked. "Okay, cryptic stranger. That's comforting."
A flicker of amusement ghosted his expression, there, then gone. As if he wasn't used to reacting to anything at all.
He exhaled once. "You're in danger."
I laughed. A single, sharp, hysterical sound.
"Oh, really? Is it the glowing veins, the hallucinations, or the dying part? You're going to have to be more specific."
His jaw tensed.
He wasn't annoyed.
He was… worried.
Which was somehow worse.
"Let me in," he said quietly. "Someone followed you earlier."
My stomach dropped. "Followed me?"
He nodded once. "A hunter."
My breath caught. "Hunter? As in….what, bounty hunter? Animal control? That sounds like a you-problem."
He didn't smile. "They weren't after me.". My skin prickled.
He held my gaze, steady, unblinking, impossibly intense.
"They were after you."
My fingers curled around the doorframe. "Why?"
He hesitated.
That was the first time I saw it.
Not fear exactly. But something like regret.
"You don't want the answer."
"Well, too bad," I snapped, sarcasm rising because fear was trying to suffocate me. "I've had a weird week. Enlighten me."
His eyes darkened.
Something in the hallway light flickered, as if reacting to him.
"It's too early," he murmured, sounding like he was talking to himself.
"Too early for what?"
"For you to know"
My pulse spiked. "Okay, no. You're giving me two seconds of explanation before I call the police."
"You won't."
His voice was calm. Infuriatingly calm.
"And why not?"
"Because whatever's waking inside you won't let you."
My blood went ice-cold.
He took one slow step forward, careful, like approaching a frightened animal.
"I'm not here to hurt you, Sarafina."
Hearing my name in his mouth did something strange to my chest.
Heat. Pressure. Recognition.
I swallowed hard. "How do you know my name?"
He held my stare.
After a long moment
"Because I was there," he said quietly. "The night you died."
The floor seemed to tilt beneath me. My breath punched out of my lungs. A sound escaped me, small, broken, involuntary.
His voice stayed steady.
"I tried to protect you. I couldn't, but I won't fail again."
I didn't move. I couldn't.
The hallway light flickered again.
My veins glowed faintly beneath my skin.
He looked down, saw the shimmer, and something like pain crossed his face.
"It's starting," he whispered. "Too fast."
I took a shaky step backward. "Who are you?"
He didn't answer immediately.
Then, with the barest flicker of emotion,
"Someone who's been waiting a long time for you to awake and come back."
The world narrowed to his eyes. Dark. Unbreakable.
Too familiar in a way that terrified me.
He took another step inside, slow enough that I could stop him.
I didn't.
The door shut behind him with a soft click.