Scene: The Airport Encounter
Aliya’s fingers tightened around the bouquet of dark red roses, the delicate petals contrasting sharply with the storm raging outside. She glanced at Zayren, her heart fluttering despite herself. His gaze was steady, burning through her with a kind of intensity that sent shivers down her spine.
She turned quickly, desperate to escape the weight of his stare, and walked toward the exit, hoping to find a taxi. The last thing she wanted was to be near him, to feel the pull of the past that had never quite loosened its grip.
Her heels clicked sharply against the tile as she moved through the airport, but every step felt heavier, as if Zayren’s presence was anchoring her to this moment, to him.
“Aliya.”
His voice, low and commanding, stopped her dead in her tracks. The air around her thickened as if she were standing in a storm, and the tension between them was suffocating. She didn’t dare turn around. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
But then he was there—closer, too close. His body leaned just behind her, his breath ghosting across her neck, and she shivered involuntarily.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he growled, his voice dark with authority. “You’re coming with me. Now.”
She whipped around, her pulse hammering. “I’m not going with you, Zayren. Don’t even think about it.”
Zayren stepped forward, towering over her with an unrelenting force, his presence overwhelming in a way that made it hard to breathe. He reached out, his hand gripping her wrist like iron, his touch hot and possessive. “You think you can just walk away from me?” His lips curled into a dangerous smile, but there was nothing amused about it. “You think I’m going to let you leave again, like last time?”
Aliya tried to jerk her arm away, but Zayren’s grip only tightened. His dark eyes locked onto hers with a hunger that made her heart skip, and a chill ran through her despite the heat of his touch.
“You don’t get to walk away from me,” he said, his voice thick with obsession. “Not now. Not ever again.”
She felt her breath catch in her throat, her chest tightening. The intensity in his gaze was suffocating, magnetic. She should pull away, walk away, but her legs felt like lead, rooted to the ground by the sheer force of him.
“I don’t belong to you, Zayren,” she spat, her voice trembling with frustration, though her body betrayed her. Her pulse quickened, her skin flushed, her breath shallow as he took another step closer.
His eyes darkened, and he leaned down until their faces were inches apart. “You never left me, Aliya,” he whispered, the words like a poison seeping into her veins. “You can walk away physically, but your soul... your body…” His gaze flicked over her, unapologetically hungry. “They’ll always be mine.”
She wanted to argue, to fight back, but the words died in her throat as he slid his free hand to the small of her back, pulling her against him, the heat of his body making it impossible to think. His presence consumed her.
She tried to push him away, but the effort felt weak, futile. Zayren was a wall, a force of nature that didn’t bend or break. “I won’t let you ruin me again,” she said, her voice shaky.
His lips brushed against her ear as he growled, “You think I haven’t wanted to ruin you? I’ve been craving this, Aliya. Every second. Every fucking moment since you left me. But I’m done waiting. You’re coming with me. And this time, you won’t run.”
Her heart raced, and the fire in his eyes ignited something inside her—something she didn’t want to acknowledge, didn’t want to give in to. But she could feel the heat between them, the pull of him, too strong to resist.
“Let go of me,” she whispered, even as her body betrayed her, leaning into him, responding to the tension, the hunger.
Zayren’s smirk was slow and deadly, and his voice was a low rasp. “You’re already mine, Aliya. Whether you admit it or not.”
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