Chapter 2 2
RANDOM FACT: Claire was born deaf so she can’t communicate without her hands.
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I shut my eyes close, waiting for the knob to rattle and burst open, for one of them to suddenly start pulling me by my hair or by my shirt— but nothing happens.
So I count. From five, to four, three, two—
One.
I open my eyes and realize I’m staring at the door now. It’s wide open, but there’s no one standing there. Just… an empty space.
What?
Slowly, I step down from the toilet, trying to keep my ear alert as I start moving out of the stall. I keep my head staring at the sides, noticing almost immediately how all the other stall doors are open— but there’s no one here with me. The door to the bathroom is open too… but no one’s there. Not even Claire. And how do I know? Because the whole place is deathly quiet. And she wouldn’t leave me alone.
What the fuck is going on?
The light above me starts flickering. I stop moving, my eyes scanning the place around me. The lights flicker again. Once. Then twice. Like a Morse code of some sorts. I most definitely need to get help for myself. I want to run out of the bathroom but for some stupid fucking reason, my legs can’t move. Instead, I can feel them trembling as I try to regain my senses again.
“Okay, Riven,” I mutter to myself. “They’ve probably beat you up so much you’re beginning to imagine things. If you can just focus—”
One bulb bursts above me. Then another. I feel myself jerk with each one until I realize the only one still on is the one above my head. It dangles loosely, illuminating the suddenly dark bathroom. I’m scared, fucking terrified which is such a pussy move for someone who’s had to spend years alone, but the second my eyes meet my reflection in the mirror in front of me, the terror turns into something else.
I look insane. My white hair I’d managed to put in a bun is all over my face now. My eyes look… strange. They’ve always been grey, but now there’s a strange color in them… and I look breathless. Feel breathless. But that’s not all. It’s almost as if I can sense something watching me through the mirror, and instead of me feeling scared as I did before, that’s not what’s happening.
It’s as if I can feel eyes all over my skin, taking in every breath I’m taking, every sound I make. It should scare me. I should be terrified, but that’s not what happens. It’s as if all my senses come to life. It’s nothing like what I was feeling with Aaron. Nothing like I’d ever felt before.
It’s as if I can feel every breath of the wind across my skin, caressing my face. Like I’m seeing clearer than I ever have. I try to swallow but that doesn’t work. My body is heating up but this time it’s not unbearable. Not when I feel like there’s something curling up my skin.
It’s cold… wet. But it feels like a shot of euphoria spreading through my veins. Pleasure hits me almost immediately as the thing curling around my skin moves under my clothes, to every corner of my body.
The first tendril slithers around my thigh, under my clothes, brushing the insides of my skin gently, carefully. I can feel myself letting out tiny shudders as it moves softly and gently, like a feather caressing every inch of my skin.
Another coils up my ribs, tightening just enough to leave me trembling, then it moves to my chest. To my nipple, curling around it slowly before it starts flicking back and forth over it.
One moves around my neck. It’s slower, stronger. I try not to move, and I’m holding my breath as I feel it curl around my neck. My legs almost buckle as it tightens, cutting off what last flow of air I thought I needed then forces my head upwards, making sure I notice how my own reflection starts to shift.
The fear returns, but it’s turning into something else that causes the slick from my ass to worsen. I’m dripping wet as I realize that I can’t move. Even with the pressure from all the things curling around my body pushing me to the edge and the fear building up my chest, I’m… aroused more than anything else. I'm panting, my member pulsing. And pulsing.
And then a new form comes up in the mirror.
It’s a man. A dark skinned man. He’s tall, too fucking tall. And huge. He looks like he can crush in the blink of an eye, break every bone in my body as well. And all over his body are tattoos, runes , that seem to pulse with a strange glow, like gold light. His eyes are green with flickers of gold and his face… fuck, there’s something old. And original about him. Almost as if he is the only perfect prototype of the male specimen, like every other man was nothing compared to him.
Sharp jaw. Cheekbones. Eyes that looked like they could see you. All of you.
And that’s when I realize…
I’ve seen that face before. How could I ever forget? A face that haunted me in my dreams, made it almost impossible for me to even find any other person attractive because they all looked pointless compared to him.
Kael Veyne.
And almost as if he reads my thought, he says my name in return, “Riven,”
His lips don’t move but I hear it. I hear him. All of me almost falls apart. Like he’s some siren about to sirensong me into my own doom. His voice blooms all over my skin, my thighs demanding to rub themselves together so I can stop myself from feeling the way I am. I’m willingly losing control. And I know I’d like to blame someone, maybe him, but fuck, fuck, I need him to whisper my name in my ear, I need him to hold my neck the way this fucking thing around my neck is holding me and do whatever he wants with me.
I want— fuck, I want everything.
“Then come.”
