"Where were you?" The question hit me before I even managed to close the door behind me.
I blinked, startled to find Luke sitting in my living room, looking like an off-duty detective. Isaac was across from him, casually sipping water but with an equally nosy expression.
"Luke? What are you doing here?" I asked, setting my keys on the table and hugging the jacket tighter around me.
"Mom wanted me to visit," he said, crossing his arms. "She's wondering if you'll be home for you and Isaac's birthday next week."
Oh crap. I'd completely forgotten about our birthday. Then again, with my Swiss-cheese memory, forgetting things was basically my new normal. "She could've texted me," I said, toeing off my boots. "And don't you live, like, three hours away? Did you teleport here?"
"David said you've been having headaches," Luke replied, ignoring my question.
"Right. Well, thanks for checking in. I'm fine." I started for the couch, plopping down next to him.
The silence that followed was... odd. Tense. Like I'd just walked into an intervention. I glanced between them. "Uh, do you guys have something to say, or are we just staring at each other? Because this whole 'serious face' duo thing is not it."
"Where were you?" Luke asked again, his tone sharper this time.
I blinked at him. "Are you my parole officer now?"
Isaac raised an eyebrow but stayed quiet. Traitor.
"Well?" Luke pressed.
"I went out," I said nonchalantly, crossing my legs and leaning back.
"Out where?" Luke's eyes narrowed.
"To see a friend," I lied smoothly.
"A friend," he repeated, voice flat.
"Yes, Luke. People have those. You should try it sometime," I said, giving him my best innocent smile.
He wasn't buying it. "What friend?"
This was getting ridiculous. "Oh my God, what is this? An interrogation?"
Luke didn't answer, his gaze dropping to the jacket I was still wearing. "That's not yours," he said, his tone sharp.
I froze, tugging the jacket tighter out of pure reflex. "It is now."
"Whose is it?"
Lie. Lie better. "It's from... a thrift store," I said quickly. "Vintage leather. Super trendy."
Luke tilted his head, unconvinced. "You don't even like leather jackets."
"And you don't like minding your own business," I shot back, standing up and brushing past him.
Isaac cleared his throat, finally chiming in. "Crystal, seriously. Who gave you the jacket?"
"No one!" I threw my hands up. "I bought it! I'm allowed to have nice things, okay?"
Luke's eyes narrowed, and for a second, I thought he was going to call me out. But instead, he sighed, leaning back into the couch.
"Fine," he said, clearly not satisfied but deciding to drop it—for now.
"Great," I said, grabbing my bag and heading toward my room. "If we're done playing CSI: Jacket Edition, I'm going to bed."
"You're not off the hook," Luke called after me.
I slammed my door shut, locking it for good measure.
Inside, I threw my bag onto the bed, my heart pounding. That was close. Too close.
I yanked the jacket off, tossing it beside my bag. Thrift store? Seriously? I need to get better at lying.
But for now, I was safe. At least until they start sniffing around again.
"We should stop, Princess. We really should."
Adam's voice was deep, rasping against the haze of my mind, each word dripping with restraint and something darker. His lips grazed my neck, setting tiny fires with every touch. Heat poured from him, his hands gripping my hips like anchors.
"Why?" I whispered, my voice trembling. "I don't want to stop. I want you."
His breath hitched, his fingers digging in, almost like he was fighting himself. He felt solid, real, every part of him pressing into me, hard and unyielding. "Everything about you makes me hungry for more," I murmured, my lips brushing his ear as I shifted against him, I could feel him beneath me hard and strong.
"Crystal," he groaned, his voice thick with desire. "You're drunk. We can continue this... well into the morning."
Morning? What was morning? All I could feel was him, his heat, his hands, the sharp edge of need in his voice. "I need you," I whispered, pulling him down into a kiss. It was messy, desperate, like drowning and breathing all at once.
"I need you too," he murmured against my lips, his voice trembling. His kisses trailed lower, leaving a blazing path down my skin.
Everything blurred—my head spinning, the world dissolving into sensation. Suddenly, I was on my back, the soft pressure of a bed beneath me. Adam hovered over me, his dark hair falling in wild strands, framing his face like something out of a painting. His lips curled into a wicked smile, his eyes glowing faintly, too bright, too sharp.
My hand moved without thinking, brushing his jaw, tracing the line of his mouth. His lips parted slightly, and I dragged my thumb across the bottom one, savoring the softness before slipping my finger into his mouth.
He didn't pull away. His tongue teased, wrapping around my finger, slow and deliberate. My breath hitched as he pulled back slightly, his lips wet.
My hand trailed down, lower and lower, my fingers brushing heat and—
"Crystal! Hey, Crystal!"
I blinked, jolting back to reality so fast I almost fell out of my seat.
"Are you okay?" Tara's voice pulled me all the way out of whatever... that was. I glanced around, realizing I was still in class, and not in some steamy alternate dimension.
"Uh... yeah," I stammered, running a hand through my hair. "Totally fine. Normal. Definitely not losing my mind."
Tara raised an eyebrow but thankfully didn't press. "Well, class is over. Let's get lunch."
We walked to the same café we always did after this class. Tara liked routines—said they calmed her—and honestly, I was grateful for that today. My brain felt like it had been put through a blender, and I needed the familiarity.
Sliding into our usual booth, I tried to shake the remnants of the dream from my head. It was vivid. Way too vivid. And hot.
"You okay?" Tara asked, tilting her head as she handed me the menu we didn't really need. Her brother owned the café, so we got free food and drinks every time.
"Yeah, yeah," I said, waving her off. "Just... tired. But hey, random question."
She looked at me, intrigued. "Okay..."
"Have you ever had, like, a sex dream?"
Tara nearly choked on her water. "What?" she sputtered, blinking at me.
"Look," I said quickly, lowering my voice as the waitress came over. "Since I lost my memory, I don't know what's normal for me anymore."
Tara stared at me for a long moment. "First of all, wow. Second, why not just ask your…um parents?"
I snorted. "Yeah, right. 'Hey, Mom and Dad, did I have a history of dreams?' That'll go over great."
She laughed, leaning her chin on her hand. "What about your brother? He seems like he'd know more."
I groaned, sinking into my seat. "Isaac's even worse. Anytime I ask him about anything, he gets all weird and avoids the question. Plus, there's this guy..."
"A guy?" she asked, perking up.
"Yeah, a guy," I said, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
"Is it the one staring at you from across the room?"
"What?" I whipped around, my heart dropping when I spotted Striker at a table nearby. He wasn't alone—some guy with bleach-blond hair sat across from him, chatting animatedly—but Striker's eyes were locked on me.
"Oh, come on," I muttered.
"He's hot," Tara said, sipping her drink. "Wait, isn't that Striker? From year two pre-med? How do you know him?"
"Family friend," I said through gritted teeth, adjusting my seat. "Excuse me for a sec."
Sliding out of the booth, I marched toward their table, catching the blond guy's gaze first.
"Hey," I said, placing both hands on the table and leaning in. "What are you doing here?"
"Nice to see you too, Crystal," Striker said smoothly, a hint of amusement in his voice.
"Hi, Crystal," the blond guy chimed in.
I blinked at him. "Uh, who are you?"
He grinned, holding out a hand. "Alex. Striker's brother. Heard, you lost your memory."
I didn't take his hand. Something about him felt off—too polished, too smooth. He had a kind of unnatural beauty that was almost unsettling. Not handsome like Adam, whose rugged charm felt real and magnetic, but in a way that seemed... artificial.
"Okay, great. Cool. Striker," I said, turning to the actual issue at hand, "why are you here?"
Striker leaned back in his chair, looking infuriatingly relaxed. "Just having lunch with my brother. Is that a crime?"
"Maybe," I muttered.
"Don't worry," he said, his voice calm. "We're leaving soon."
I hesitated, scanning his face for any sign of a lie, but he looked tame enough. Nodding reluctantly, I turned and headed back to Tara.
"Well?" she asked, raising an eyebrow as I sat down.
"Nothing," I said, picking up my drink.
After lunch at the café, I went back to the apartment, hoping to escape the day. Isaac was there, sprawled on the couch with a red-haired girl I didn't recognize. She was laughing at something he said.
I needed sleep—desperately.
So, I made some tea, took my meds, and crawled into bed. My body ached in a way I couldn't explain, and as my head hit the pillow, I whispered to myself, "Just sleep. No weird dreams, no monsters, no existential crises. Please."
Spoiler alert: I was wrong.
The first thing I noticed was the sky—blindingly bright, like the sun had swallowed the world. It wasn't warm, though. It was cold and sharp, cutting into me with every step. I couldn't see beyond the light, and my pulse raced as I realized I was completely alone.
"Hello?" My voice echoed, thin and fragile against the overwhelming silence. "Who's there?"
No answer.
The quiet stretched, heavy and unnatural, until it shattered with a high-pitched shriek. It wasn't human—too sharp, too primal. I froze, my breath hitching as the sound grew louder, shriller, and more unbearable with each passing second.
Snap. Snap. Snap.
The sound of something breaking—bones? Wood? I didn't know. Then I saw it, slithering out of the brightness: a tail.
My stomach dropped. It wasn't just any tail. It was jagged, the scales uneven and burnt-looking. It writhed like it had a mind of its own, and I ran.
My feet pounded against the ground, my heart racing so fast it felt like it might burst. I didn't know where I was going—there was no path, no destination. Just the need to get away.
But then, of course, because my life (and apparently my dreams) are a series of bad decisions, I looked back.
A mistake.
My foot caught on something, and I fell, my face slamming into the ground. Pain shot through me, but I scrambled to get up, only to freeze when a thick drop of saliva hit the ground next to me. It hissed, melting into the earth like acid.
I looked up, and there it was.
The creature towered over me, its fur jagged and matted like it had been torn apart and stitched back together. Its horns twisted unnaturally, and its forked tongue flickered like a serpent's.
This is it, I thought. This is how I die.
It lunged.
"No!" I screamed, squeezing my eyes shut.
But instead of pain, there was… nothing.
When I opened my eyes, I was somewhere else entirely.
The cave was cold, the kind of cold that seeped into your bones and refused to leave. My breath came out in puffs, visible against the dim light. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to warm up.
Or rather, my body did.
I wasn't in control anymore. My body stood up on its own, and I couldn't stop it.
"Uh, hello? Brain? Are we malfunctioning? Can we not walk into the creepy unknown?" I thought, but my body ignored me completely.
It walked out of the cave, into a landscape that was eerily familiar. The sky was gray, heavy with the smell of rain, and the air felt charged, like a storm was coming.
"Where is he?" my voice said.
Wait, he? Who? What's going on?
"Hey, body, if you're going to take the wheel, at least give me a heads-up!" I shouted internally. No response.
My body kept moving, and that's when I saw it—the lake.
"Adam," my voice called out.
My stomach twisted. Adam? This had to be a dream. Or a memory. Or something.
I walked to the edge of the lake, catching my reflection in the water. Black hair, brown eyes, freckles—it was me, but not entirely. My hair was straight, my body more muscular, and scars covered my skin. A burn mark ran down my arm, and I was wearing a strange skirt and top that looked handmade.
"Skies above, what are you doing here?"
The voice came from behind me, startling me.
My body turned, and there he was— Adam.
But not my Adam.
His hair was buzzed short, his skin smooth and bare of any tattoos. He was wearing a similar skirt, and there was something ancient about him, like he belonged to a different world entirely.
"No, stop. Don't come any closer, please, my love," my voice said.
My love?
"You know I cannot do that," he said, stepping closer. His voice was warm, but there was an edge to it, like he was holding back something overwhelming. "I've missed you, Princess."
Princess? Oh, come on!
"But we cannot be together. The penalty—"
Penalty? What penalty?
"I wouldn't mind the penalty if it meant I could hold you for one more day," he said.
"I am to be wed tomorrow," my body replied, the words heavy with sadness.
Adam's jaw tightened, his hands clenched into fists. "To who? Samuel?"
My body turned away, nodding.
"And you came to say goodbye," he said softly.
"No. Yes. I don't want to be with him. I don't. But I have to—to protect everyone," my voice said, breaking. "But everything I have, everything I am, belongs to you."
The tears streaming down my face weren't mine—they were hers.
"The gods are cruel," my voice whispered.
"They truly are," Adam said, stepping closer until there was no space between us.
Their lips met, desperate and consuming. His hands tangled in her hair, her legs wrapped around his waist, and their bodies pressed together like they were trying to defy the world itself.
The scream jolted me awake, my chest heaving like I'd run a marathon. Sweat plastered my hair to my forehead, and my hands trembled as they gripped the sheets. Isaac was standing by my bed, concern etched into his face, his red-haired friend hovering awkwardly in the background.
"You were crying," he said again, softer this time.
I blinked a few times, trying to gather myself. My throat was dry, and my head throbbed like I'd just been hit with a freight train. "I... I'm fine," I managed to croak, though it was a blatant lie.
Isaac crossed his arms, clearly not buying it. "Fine? Crystal, you were screaming in your sleep. I thought you were being murdered!"
"I said I'm fine," I snapped, harsher than intended. His face twisted with hurt for a split second before he masked it with indifference.
"Whatever," he muttered, stepping back. "Just... let me know if you need anything."
He walked out, the redhead shooting me a lingering look before following him.