Lena stood frozen, her mind still echoing with the whisper that had slithered through her consciousness.
"We see you."
The words had latched onto her like invisible chains, sinking into her skin, her thoughts—her very existence.
The school hall, the walls, the flickering lights—everything felt distorted.
It wasn't just a presence anymore.
It was inside.
Riven clenched his fists at his sides, his breath coming in slow, controlled inhales, like he was fighting to keep himself from unraveling.
Kian merely smirked, leaning against the lockers as if nothing about this unsettled him. But Lena could see the sharp glint in his eyes, the quiet calculation.
He was enjoying this.
"Well," Kian said, pushing off the lockers, "this is getting interesting, isn't it?"
Lena snapped her head toward him. "You knew."
Kian's brows lifted. "Knew what?"
"That something was going to happen. That something was… attached to Riven."
Kian exhaled, rolling his shoulders as if shaking off an invisible weight. "Let's just say I had a feeling. You, however—" He glanced at Lena, his lips quirking in a knowing smirk. "You weren't supposed to hear it."
Lena's stomach dropped.
"What do you mean?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Kian's eyes gleamed with something unreadable.
"Whatever this is," he murmured, tilting his head, "it wasn't meant for you."
The words sent a sharp chill through Lena's veins.
Then why had she heard it?
Why had the voice spoken to her?
Riven turned to her then, his silver-blue eyes dark and unreadable. "If it wasn't meant for her," he said slowly, "then why…?"
"Maybe," Kian mused, "because she was in the way."
Lena's chest tightened.
In the way?
Of what?
Or worse—who?
The air around them felt charged, like a storm was building beneath their feet.
And Lena had the sinking feeling—
That they had just crossed a line they couldn't come back from.
---
The Scar in the Mirror
That night, Lena stood in front of her bathroom mirror, staring at her reflection.
Her fingers gripped the edge of the sink.
Everything looked normal.
Her reflection was just… her.
And yet—
The longer she stared, the more she felt it.
A wrongness.
Something lingering. Watching.
She exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through her hair.
She was just tired. That was all.
Just—
Then—
Her reflection blinked.
And she hadn't.
Lena's blood ran cold.
Her hands tightened on the sink, knuckles going white.
Slowly—so, so slowly—her reflection tilted its head.
Not much.
Just a fraction of an inch.
But it was enough.
Enough to tell Lena that whatever was in the mirror—
Wasn't her.
A breath brushed against the back of her neck.
Her heart stopped.
And then—
A voice.
Soft. Amused. Inevitable.
"You can't run from us, Lena."
---
The Hollow Wake-Up
The next morning, Lena woke up gasping.
Her sheets were damp with sweat, her pulse hammering against her ribs.
A dream.
It had to be a dream.
She threw the covers off and stumbled to the bathroom, heart still racing. She turned on the tap, splashing cold water on her face before glancing at the mirror.
Just her.
Nothing else.
No whispering voices. No flickering shadows.
No wrongness.
She exhaled a shaky breath.
It was just in her head.
But then—
Her phone vibrated on the counter.
Lena grabbed it, still feeling like she was coming down from the nightmare.
The screen lit up.
One new message.
Unknown Number: You shouldn't have looked, Lena.
Her stomach dropped.
Her fingers tightened around the phone.
The message disappeared.
Like it had never been there.
Like it had never been sent.
But Lena knew—
It had.
And whoever had sent it—
Knew her name.
---
The Chain That Binds
By the time Lena made it to school, she was still shaken.
Riven was already there, leaning against the classroom window, his expression unreadable. His posture was relaxed, but his fingers tapped against his arm in agitation.
Kian was seated at the back of the class, his signature smirk in place, but his eyes lingered on her longer than usual.
Lena sat down, trying to push down the unease curling in her stomach.
She had barely placed her bag on the desk when a folded note landed in front of her.
Her breath caught.
She glanced around.
No one was looking at her.
No one had thrown it.
But it was there.
Slowly, she reached out and unfolded it.
Three words were scrawled in dark ink.
"You're already marked."
Lena's blood ran cold.
She didn't know who had written it.
Didn't know who had left it on her desk.
But deep in her gut, she knew—
It wasn't over.
Not even close.
---