Chapter 8
The Prey
Aweek had passed since I stumbled out of his bathroom. My head was a mess; my body barely holding itself together. I could hardly recall the next half hour—only that Judas had dismissed me without a word.
Kyle drove me back to the dorm, and as soon as we arrived, I bolted to my room, collapsing onto my bed. And that’s when I realized—I’d left my damp sweater at his place.
With all that, there was guilt too for doubting his blindness.
I stared at the ceiling, willing my thoughts away from him. But they refused to listen.
The image of his him hadn’t left my mind.
No matter how much I tried not to, my thoughts reeled back to him. No man had ever made me feel this way—terrorized and enticed all at once.
Strangely, it had been a week since the feeling started—like I was being watched. I kept brushing it off, pretending it wasn’t there. Just paranoia and lack of sleep.
My mind had a way of turning silence into something heavier, feeding me thoughts I didn’t ask for. Even in the dorm, where nothing should’ve felt wrong, I still had that same sense—like unseen eyes lingering where they shouldn’t be.
But this feeling only grew.
And through it all, those hunter’s eyes stayed with me—making everything worse without trying. Everywhere I looked, there he was. Even in the dorm, Alina wouldn’t stop talking about him, building him into something larger than a man.
He felt inescapable. Suffocating, even when he wasn’t near.
And then, after college, I still had to face him. Our encounters were brief, but they were enough to leave me unsettled every time—feeding him, reading aloud when he asked, helping him move as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world.
At some point, I started wearing gloves.
Ever since that first day, I realised that touching him was not mentally or physically good for me.
It was every time I touched him; he left a residue, an invisible mark that seeped onto my very being.
I couldn’t sleep after being near him, breathe properly, or know what was happening around the world.
To my relief, he kept his distance after that day. He hadn’t asked for another bath, nor anything that stripped away boundaries I wasn’t ready to cross.
I turned the corner and slammed straight into someone. The force sent me stumbling back, nearly losing my balance before strong hands caught my shoulders and steadied me.
My eyes flicked up. Recognition hit immediately.
“Ivan,” I let out under my breath.
He released me with ease, slipping his hands into the pockets of his olive jacket. Sandy hair fell slightly undone, and those bright green eyes caught the light as if they always knew how to.
His grin only deepened.
“Sera,” his soft voice caressed my ears, and I felt my cheeks burning with the warmth of his voice. His eyes raked over me for a brief second before coming to hold mine. “Well, good morning to you.”
“Good morning,” I said, swallowing the slight tension as I brushed an invisible speck of dust off my jacket and glanced away.
“You’re early,” he remarked, falling into step beside me as we headed inside.
I shot him a light, sideways look. “So are you.”
He nudged my shoulder with his, just enough to be familiar without feeling intrusive. “Guilty. I was planning to check out the library before class.”
“Oh,” I said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “Same, actually.”
“Had breakfast?”
“I did.” I adjusted my bag strap. “You?”
“I was going to,” he replied, raking a hand through his hair, “but someone conveniently forgot.”
I stopped and turned toward him. Was it even Friday today? The thought hit me a second too late, and I gave him an apologetic smile.
“I forgot.”
He rolled his eyes, but nudged me forward anyway. “Come on.”
We climbed the stairs. Just before the entrance, he stopped. I followed suit, looking up at him.
“How about dinner?” he asked.
I hesitated. “I’d love to, but I’ve got work.” My fingers worried at the strap of my bag. “I’ll probably be exhausted after.”
“I’ll pick you up,” he said simply. “Or you can drive. Whatever works. Just send me the address.”
A strange flutter twisted in my stomach. I paused. “I’ll text you after my shift.”
“Perfect.” His eyes travelled down my body and he smiled, “You look good.”
My breath caught before I could stop it. Heat rose to my face instantly. “Thanks,” I managed, ducking my head.
My pulse hammered too loud in my ears. When I finally dared to glance up at him again, I caught the slight blush on his face too. And that almost made me laugh.
So, he wasn’t as unaffected as he pretended to be.
The realization sent a thrill through me. “You look good yourself.”
“Am I?”
“Mm,” I hummed, as if I were seriously considering it, though the answer was obvious. “Yeah. Unfortunately.”
His mouth twitched like he were trying not to smile properly, but failing anyway. “Unfortunately?” he repeated.
I shrugged, shifting my bag strap higher. “It’s distracting.”
His brows lifted at that, and he looked genuinely caught off guard. I immediately regretted, but he grinned. “You’re bold today,” he murmured. “I like it.”
“Am I?” I echoed his earlier tone, a little lighter now as we both laughed.