Page 33 of Stalk Me

His words break my heart. I was sure this was just another game, a new way to get his attention. But the truth is clear in his expression, raw and painful: He wants this, but not as much as he wants me. Not when I'm desperately seeking an escape. The realization should hurt, but instead, a jolt of hope arcs through me, dispelling some of the black mood. This isn't about him using me; it's about him seeing through the armor to the mess of darkness that lies beneath.

"I should go," he says quietly. "It's getting late, and?—"

"Stay." The word surprises us both. "Please. Just… stay."

He studies me for a long moment, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. Then he nods, settling back against the headboard. "Okay. But we're finishing the movie first. I refuse to leave Tony Stark hanging."

A wet laugh escapes me. "You're such a nerd."

"Guilty as charged." He grins, beautiful and infuriating.

We start to watch the movie again, but something is different between us now. Erik keeps his arm around my shoulders, and I lean into his warmth. When I finally fall asleep from being too tired, I hear his steady heartbeat mixed with the faraway rumble of the storm.

For the first time in years, I don't dream of parties or pills or predators in expensive suits. Instead, I dream of gray eyes and gentle hands and the possibility that maybe, just maybe, not everyone in this world wants to break me.

Even though there's still a powerful storm outside, I finally feel like I can breathe here with Erik by my side. The thunder that used to scare me now sounds more like a song, far away and steady with his heartbeat. We're still wrapped up in each other's arms when we wake up, with my head on his chest and his arms around me to protect me. The first light of dawn is caught by dewdrops, which almost turns the scary darkness into something beautiful. The gothic windows let in a lot of light that makes everything look golden and full of possibilities.

Erik stirs beside me, and for a moment, I tense, waiting for the regret or awkwardness to set in. But he just smiles sleepily, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from my face.

"Morning," he murmurs, voice rough with sleep. "You okay?"

I consider the question, taking stock of the various aches and wounds inside me. The darkness isn't gone—it may never be completely gone—but it feels less overwhelming in the light of day. "Getting there," I answer honestly.

He nods, understanding what I'm not saying. "Good." Then, with a playful smirk, “Though I have to say, your taste in movies could use some work. Who falls asleep during the best part?"

"Shut up." I shove his shoulder, but there's no real force behind it. "Not all of us are Marvel superfans."

"Your loss." He sits up, stretching in a way that makes his shirt ride up slightly. I force myself to look away from the strip of exposed skin. "I should go before Belle gets back. Wouldn't want to start any new rumors."

Right. Belle. When reality hits me again, it reminds me why this can't happen between Erik and me. I look quickly to the corner of the room where I found one of their tiny cameras before. I wonder how many more they've hidden since then. My parents are out there, watching and looking for any weak spot they can use against me. It's possible they recorded everything that happened or didn't happen last night. If they did, they're probably still going over the footage, finding ways to use it against me as another tool. I can't let them hurt Erik too. I won't.

"Erik," I start, not sure what I'm going to say but knowing I need to say something.

He cuts me off with a gentle squeeze of my hand. "I know," he says quietly. "We don't have to talk about it. Just… remember you're not alone, okay? Whatever storms come next, you don't have to face them by yourself."

He leaves but I still feel his warmth and the dangerous seed of hope in my chest. I touch my lips, remembering how close we came to crossing that line, how much I wanted him to kiss me in that moment before sleep claimed us. Not as a distraction or a release, but because he saw the real pieces of me and didn't run.

But Erik Stone is too good and pure for someone damaged like me. His new life is full of Marvel movies and study sessions fueled by candy, while mine is full of surveillance cameras and champagne laced with drugs. He doesn't deserve my darkness, the threats that follow me, or the weight of lies that could destroy us both. I put a target on his back every time I'm with him, and I've seen personally how well my father and his friends can hit their marks. Leaving him would mean giving up the warmth and safety he gives me, and I don't want to think that this fragile peace could last.

Besides, I deserve exactly what I've always had: nothing but storms and shadows and the cold comfort of knowing that at least when I'm alone, no one else can get hurt.

I curl my knees to my chest, trying to hold on to the memory of his steady heartbeat as the silence closes in.

The sun continues to rise over Shark Bay, turning the world outside my window into something beautiful and new. But I know it's not safe to trust the quiet after the storm. There are always more storms coming, more secrets that want to come out, and more darkness waiting to consume whatever light dares to shine through the cracks in my carefully constructed walls.

Though I'm getting ready for another day at Shark Bay, I can't get Erik's warmth, his steady presence, and the way he made me feel safe without trying to save me from my own mind. That storm that could wash away everything I thought I knew about love, trust, and the chance of forgiveness might be the most dangerous of all.

But for now, I have a role to play and a mask to maintain. Luna Queen doesn't get to have normal things like movie nights and comfort and the gentle touch of someone who sees past her shadows. Luna Queen exists in the dark, uses the darkness, and becomes the darkness that others fear.

Even if, for one stormy night, I got to pretend otherwise.

Mysterious Package

Before I even get to my room, I'm already tired. Because of the storm last night and crying in Erik's arms, I feel like I have no defenses left. Every look from passing students feels like sandpaper on my nerves because my skin is still so sensitive. It feels like I've been scrubbed raw. I can't afford weakness, not here. Not when there are so many predators stalking these halls, waiting for any sign of weakness. At Shark Bay, the name isn't just for show—the students here are trained to detect vulnerability like blood in the water.

It doesn't help that my designer bag feels as heavy as my emotional baggage when I climb the stairs to my floor. Even my uniform feels too tight and makes me think of all the ways I'm stuck in this golden cage. Every step I take on the marble floor makes me aware that I'm balancing between control and chaos. If I make one mistake, everything falls apart.

Something feels off the moment I open my door. The air is different—disturbed, like someone's been in here recently. The small package sitting in the middle of my desk grabs my attention right away. It's wrapped in plain brown paper and is about the size of a textbook. There's no return address or postmark on it. Just my name in unfamiliar handwriting: "Luna Queen."

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