THE RETURN
đź“ŤTHE AIRPORT.
Aliya stepped out of the terminal, the storm outside howling, the weight of three years pressing down on her chest. The city she once called home felt different now—darker, colder. She didn’t expect to see him.
But there he was, standing in the shadows, a bouquet of dark red roses in his hand. His eyes locked onto hers as if they’d never been apart. The years didn’t matter. Not to him. Not to the obsession that still burned behind those eyes.
“Zayren…” She whispered his name like a curse, the rain soaking her hair and clothes, but she didn’t move. Not yet.
He stepped closer, his lips curling into a smile that was more dangerous than anything she remembered. “You came back, Aliya. Finally.”
“I didn’t come back for you,” she said, but her voice trembled, betraying her.
“You did.” His voice was low, dark, and impossible to ignore. “You just don’t know it yet.”
The air between them thickened, electric. He reached out, handing her the roses. She took them without thinking, the soft petals against her skin burning more than the rain ever could.
“You look just the same,” he said, eyes tracing over her. “Still perfect. Still mine.”
Aliya’s heart pounded. “You don’t own me.”
“I do now,” he whispered, stepping in closer, his breath warm against her ear. “And you’re going to remember why.”
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