Chapter 8 · The Uninvited Guest

"Don't move. Not even to breathe," the man said, his voice like a razor blade sliding over silk.

He didn't just stand there. He was leaning against the mahogany desk, blocking the only exit to the room, his eyes scanning me with a clinical, predatory hunger. I could feel the cold press of his presence filling the space, making the air thick and hard to swallow.

I backed away, my heels clicking against the hardwood, until the edge of the bed hit the back of my knees. My legs felt like lead. The Abyss hadn't just taken my strength; it had left me hollow, a shell of a girl pretending she wasn't terrified.

"Who the hell are you?" I spat, trying to keep my voice from shaking. "This is my room. Get out before I scream."

He laughed. It wasn't a real laugh—just a dry, sharp sound that didn't reach his eyes. "Scream. Go ahead. The guards outside are on my payroll. The only person who’ll hear you is me, and I’m the one you should be worried about."

Suddenly, a freezing chill surged up my spine. It wasn't the room's temperature. It was *him*.