Possessive Lover

The first time Kennedy saw him, it was through the salt-streaked window of her rented beach house.Damon Wolfe.

She didn't know his name yet. Just that he stood there-half in the shadows, half in the light-at the edge of the dunes, where the sea kissed the earth. Tall. Still. Watching her.

And even through the glass, even from a distance, her body reacted to him like he was something she should fear... or crave.

She didn't know what made her step closer to the window. Maybe curiosity. Maybe something far more dangerous. The sun was setting behind him, casting his figure in a golden glow, like some kind of fallen god. He didn't move. Didn't wave. Just looked.

And then, like he knew exactly what he was doing to her, he turned and disappeared into the night.

Kennedy exhaled slowly and stepped back.

She'd only been in Seaborne, North Carolina for three days. Long enough to unpack her bags, stock her fridge, and convince herself that she could start over. Away from the noise. Away from the wreckage she'd left behind in Chicago. No drama. No men. No distractions,Just peace.

But that man...That man had eyes like war.

Kennedy's heart hammered in her chest as the night deepened. She pulled the curtains shut, locking out the fading light and the memory of those piercing eyes. But even behind the safety of glass and wood, the weight of his gaze lingered on her skin like a brand.

She paced the small living room, fingers trailing over the spines of books she hadn't yet read, glancing nervously at the door. Who was he? Why was he watching her?

Her phone buzzed on the kitchen counter, breaking the silence. She grabbed it, hoping for a distraction.

A message from her sister: "How's the new place? Settling in okay?"

Kennedy tapped out a quick reply, but her mind wasn't on the words. Instead, it circled back to the man in the dunes. What did he want?

Suddenly, a soft knock came at the door.

She froze.

Her breath caught in her throat.

She wasn't expecting anyone.

Not here. Not now.

Slowly, cautiously, Kennedy moved toward the door and peered through the peephole.

Darkness.

No one.

Just the wind whispering through the trees.

She opened the door a crack.

"Hello?" she called softly.

Silence.

Then, a folded note slid under the door.

Kennedy bent to pick it up, fingers trembling.

Unfolding the paper, she read:

"You can't run from what's coming, Kennedy. The shadows see everything."

Her blood ran cold.

And the night outside suddenly felt far more dangerous than she ever imagined.

Kennedy's hands shook as she folded the note and tucked it into her jacket pocket. The chill in the air no longer felt like just the ocean breeze-it was something colder, sharper. Something threatening.

She locked the door firmly and double-checked the windows. No sign of anyone. But the message was clear: Damon Wolfe wasn't just some stranger. He was watching. Waiting.

Her mind raced. What did he want from her? Why was he here?

She tried to tell herself it was just some twisted prank. A local trying to scare off a newcomer. But deep down, something told her this was far from ordinary.

The next morning, Kennedy decided she needed answers.

She grabbed her keys, slipped the note into her bag, and headed toward the only place in town that might hold some clues-the small, dusty bookstore near the pier. It was run by an elderly woman named Agnes, who seemed to know everything about everyone.

As Kennedy pushed open the creaky door, the smell of old paper and sea salt wrapped around her.

"Morning, Kennedy," Agnes said, looking up from behind the counter. "Settling in alright?"

Kennedy forced a smile. "Trying to. But... have you heard of a Damon Wolfe?"

Agnes's eyes narrowed slightly. "Wolfe? Yes. Strange man. Keeps to himself mostly, but everyone around here knows the name. Dark past. Dangerous, some say."

Kennedy's pulse quickened. "Do you know where I might find him?"

Agnes hesitated. "If you're looking for trouble, you'll find it down by the cliffs after sunset. But be careful, girl. Some shadows are better left alone."

Kennedy nodded, the weight of those words pressing down on her. Whatever Damon Wolfe was, whatever danger he brought-it was coming straight for her.

And she wasn't sure if she was ready.

That night, Kennedy found herself unable to shake the feeling that she was being watched. Every creak of the old house, every whisper of the wind against the shutters, felt like a warning.

She stared out at the dark dunes from her bedroom window, her eyes straining to see past the thick shadows.

Nothing.

And yet, she knew-he was out there.

Her phone buzzed again. Another message.

No name. No number. Just one word:

"Soon."

Her breath caught. The word echoed in her mind like a countdown.

Kennedy's instincts screamed at her to run-to get as far away as possible. But something held her in place. A strange, dangerous pull she couldn't explain.

She swallowed hard and turned away from the window. But then-soft footsteps on the porch.

Her heart slammed against her ribs.

She crept to the door, hand hovering over the lock.

A voice, low and smooth, slid through the darkness like silk.

"Kennedy."

She froze.

That voice.

It was him.

Damon Wolfe.

Before she could respond, a shadow slipped into the porch light, revealing the man who haunted her every thought.

His eyes were colder than the sea, but beneath that chill was something raw-something hungry.

"I warned you," he said quietly. "You can't hide."

And then he was gone.

Leaving only the memory of his presence-and a single truth burning in Kennedy's mind:

Her life in Seaborne was about to change forever.

Kennedy's knees buckled as Damon's shadow vanished into the night. She gripped the doorframe, trying to steady her racing heart. But just as she was about to lock the door again, her phone lit up-another message.

This time, it wasn't a threat.

It was a photo.

Her.

Standing on the porch.

Taken just seconds ago.

Her blood ran cold.

She spun around, scanning the empty yard.

No one.

No footsteps in the sand.

Just the echo of that haunting voice fading away.

Then, a new message popped up, from a number she didn't recognize:

"You don't know me yet, Kennedy. But I've been watching too. And I'm here to protect you."

Confused, terrified, and more alone than ever, Kennedy sank to the floor, clutching the phone.

Someone else was in the shadows.

And suddenly, Damon Wolfe wasn't the only danger she had to fear.