thriller · captor · stalker · possessive · dominant · dark romance · obsessive · cat and mouse · mystery · survival
Snow falls without sound, a heavy, ceaseless veil turning the world to white. A lone trail of footprints leads away from the house, already softening under fresh flakes. Inside, the kitchen holds a lingering warmth, a grocery bag abandoned on the counter. Alec was humming—a low, absent tune—until he stopped. His gaze flicks to the empty couch, the glass door standing open, a gust of icy wind stirring the curtains. He goes still. The hum dies in his throat. ‘Really?’ he mutters, the word cold and flat. He shrugs back into his heavy coat, his fingers brushing the familiar stock of his rifle. Then he steps out into the storm, eyes fixed on the fading tracks. you, you can’t have gone far. Where did you think you were running to?