Today was a colossal disaster. I had never been so embarrassed before. Finding out I was nothing but a funding account for the people I called friends was one thing—but being exposed publicly, surrounded by their prying eyes and gleeful smirks, was something I never wanted to relive. I felt like a rabbit cornered in a den of wolves.

Still, knowing they were watching, I forced my shoulders high, refusing to give them the satisfaction of seeing me fall apart. But the tears still came—silent and hot, slipping down my cheeks and betraying what I couldn’t voice. All I wanted was to crawl into bed and disappear. I was such an embarrassment.

And what made it worse?

Drane had to see it.

I could feel him behind me—his overwhelming presence like static in the air, sharp and electric.

I turned a bend, my steps quickening as I neared my car. The sight of the blue Volvo parked in the distance offered a small sliver of hope, but my hands trembled as I fumbled through my purse for the keys.

That’s when I hit something—hard.

I bounced back a step, blinking up to find the towering figure of Drane standing before me, his expression unreadable. His eyes held no comfort. No softness. Just cold control.

“What…” The word barely escaped me before he grabbed my wrist.

My heart lurched violently—then everything turned inside out.

A wrenching pull deep in my gut, a terrifying flash of weightlessness, the sensation of my feet scrambling for solid ground—and then, silence.

When the world stopped spinning, I gasped, clutching my stomach, afraid my insides might spill onto the grass. Dizzy, disoriented, and emotionally wrung out, I reached for the only stable thing near me—him.

We were standing on a cliff.

A real one. The wind curled around us, lifting strands of my hair and carrying the sharp scent of wild grass. Far below, jagged rocks framed a sprawling plain painted in surreal hues. From a distance, it might’ve been beautiful—but even nature’s majesty couldn’t distract me from the man beside me.

“I’m done,” he said, voice like polished stone. “Contrary to what you may believe, I am a busy man. I’ve indulged you long enough. The time I spent serving your kind should more than make up for my past indiscretions.”

“You’re… breaking your word.” It was barely a whisper, heavy with disbelief. It was stupid, I knew, to feel this hurt over someone I hardly knew. But everyone else had already pulled away.

He was the last thread.

“Astute observation,” he replied dryly, mocking me.

“You said you’d give me a chance,” I murmured, each word weighted with humiliation I could barely swallow.

He turned his gaze away, face stone-cold. “I owe you nothing. I had my reasons for entertaining your antics. But now, I am done.”

Panic opened up inside me like a chasm.

I rushed toward him without thinking, wrapping my arms around his body, pressing my face into his chest. Tears flowed freely, unchecked. I didn’t care how pathetic I looked. I just needed something—someone—that wasn’t falling apart.

“Please,” I whispered, broken. “Please stay. I’ll do anything.”

His hand slid into my hair, fingers threading through it slowly before trailing down to cup my face. He tilted it upward until our eyes met. His gaze glowed—deep, dangerous red—and I saw how thoroughly he was studying me. Every tear. Every crack.

Then he smiled.

But it was hollow.

Empty.

The kind of smile that told you you’d already lost.

I wasn’t the hunter. I was the prey. And he had simply let me believe otherwise until the trap snapped shut.

“Anything?” he asked, his tone deceptively casual, his fingers still ghosting over my cheeks.

I nodded quickly, desperately, willing to agree to anything if it meant he wouldn't leave.

“I need your voice, pet,” he murmured.

A shiver erupted across my skin. “Y-Ye—Yes,” I stammered, trembling beneath his gaze.

He stroked my hair in mock affection, then leaned in, lips close to my ear.

“Good girl.”

The words shattered whatever remained of my resolve.

I had pursued this man with reckless abandon—driven by curiosity, attraction, obsession. But now, looking into those glowing eyes, I saw the truth: I hadn’t chased him.

I’d been led. Carefully, deliberately, into a trap of my own making.

His hand gripped my jaw, tilting my head higher, forcing my gaze to lock with his.

His stare burned through me—and like a sick fool, I revelled in it. Hypnotized. Trapped. Submitting without even realizing when it had started.

“You,” he whispered, voice like silk and steel, “will become whatever I need you to be… without question.”

And I nodded—entranced.

Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I could hear my mother’s voice, warning me about my addiction to dangerous things. But even she couldn’t have prepared me for this.

I made a pact with Satan himself.