Two Weeks Later
Seraphine was still here.
Still in his house.
Still in his bed.
Still in his life.
And Elias was losing himself in her.
It wasn't just lust. It wasn't just infatuation. It was something deeper, something consuming, something he couldn't name without feeling like he was surrendering completely.
He was obsessed. And he had every damn right to be.
She was the kind of woman that seemed to have stepped straight from his imagination, from the pages of a book he never wanted to close.
Every inch of her. The way her hair slipped over her shoulders when she moved. The way she bit her lip when she read. The way she looked at him–like she had always known him, like she had always been meant for him.
She moved through his apartment like she belonged there. No hesitation. No awkwardness.
Like she had always been his.
She knew him too well–his habits, his past, the thoughts he hadn't even spoken aloud. She finished his sentences, predicted his moods.
At first, it had been comforting.
Now?
Now it was terrifying.
Because he was starting to feel like he couldn't live without her.
Elias sat on the couch, watching her stretch from across the room, her body arching like a slow, deliberate tease.
"You're staring."
Seraphine smirked, tucking her legs beneath her as she sank onto the couch.
"Can't help it," Elias admitted, leaning against the doorframe.
She arched a brow. "Is that a compliment or a confession?"
"Both."
She set her book down and walked toward him, her bare feet soundless against the floor.
"You're thinking about kissing me," she teased, her voice dipping lower.
His throat worked, muscles tightening. She was right.
But he refused to give in so easily.
"Cocky, aren't you?"
Seraphine tilted her head, eyes locked onto his. "Say I'm wrong."
He didn't. Because he couldn't.
She stopped inches away, so close he could feel her warmth.
Her lips curled. "Still resisting?"
"Maybe."
"Liar."
She grabbed his shirt and pulled him in.
Elias didn't fight it.
The moment their lips met, he was gone.
The kiss was slow at first.
Testing.
Teasing.
Then his hands found her waist, and she melted against him, soft and warm, her curves pressing into him. A fire ignited in his veins, sharp and all-consuming.
He lifted her, and she gasped, wrapping her legs around him.
Her breath hitched as he pressed her against the wall, his mouth trailing down her jaw, her neck, the delicate skin beneath her ear.
She shivered.
He felt high.
Drunk on her.
On her taste, on the way she whispered his name like a prayer.
"Seraphine," he breathed against her skin, his hands roaming lower, tracing the dip of her spine, molding to the shape of her hips.
Her nails dug into his shoulders. "Elias…"
He carried her to the bed, pulse hammering.
She wasn't just in his life anymore. She had completely taken over.
Her fingers tangled in his hair as his lips moved lower, learning, memorizing, marking her with every kiss.
Every little sound she made wrecked him.
Every sigh. Every moan.
She felt too perfect. Too right.
He wasn't sure where he ended and she began.
"You feel so human," he whispered against her skin, his lips brushing the soft swell of her breast.
"Maybe I am," she murmured, her fingers tightening in his hair, guiding him lower.
He wanted her to be.
He needed her to be.
Because if she wasn't–if she was something else–then what the hell did that make him?
Their clothes disappeared in the rush of kisses and tangled sheets.
Every touch was fire.
Every whisper was electric.
His hands traced the length of her body, mapping every curve, every delicate shudder beneath his fingertips.
She arched against him, her breath catching as he moved between her thighs, sliding in slow, savoring the moment he became part of her.
She gasped his name.
And he was lost.
Elias moved in deep, slow thrusts, drawing out every sound, every whimper, every desperate plea for more.
She met his rhythm, her body molding to his like they had been made to fit together.
Like she had always been his.
Like she always would be.
"Tell me this is real," he rasped, his lips brushing her temple.
She looked up at him, her fingers tracing his jaw.
"Isn't it?"
Her answer wasn't enough.
But he didn't stop.
He couldn't.
And when she moaned his name, when her body clenched around him, it was over.
He gave in.
To her.
To them.
To whatever the hell this was.
And for a little while, nothing else existed.
Just her.
Just him.
After their intimate moment, they lay tangled together, skin against skin, his fingers tracing circles on her back.
She watched him, silent.
Like she was waiting for him to say something first.
"What?" he finally asked.
"You're thinking too much," she murmured, running a hand over his chest.
"Can you blame me?" he sighed. "You show up out of nowhere, know everything about me, and somehow, I–"
He stopped himself.
Her lips twitched. "You what?"
He hesitated.
Then–
"I'm falling for you."
For the first time, she looked scared.
His brows drew together. "Seraphine?"
She touched his face, her thumb brushing over his bottom lip.
"You don't own me, Elias."
A cold feeling crawled up his spine.
"What?"
Her smile was soft. Almost sad.
"Even if you wrote me into existence… some things were never meant to be owned."
His chest tightened.
"What does that mean?"
She didn't answer.
She just kissed him.
And like a fool–he let it go.
That Night…
He woke up alone.
The bed was cold.
His arm stretched out–Seraphine was gone.
Panic hit him like a punch.
"Seraphine?"
No answer.
Elias sat up, pulse pounding.
Then he saw it.
The book.
Lying open.
The ink still wet.
Words forming on their own.
His stomach dropped.
He swallowed hard and read them aloud.
"She was never yours to keep."
His hands shook.
The air felt thick. Wrong.
"No," he muttered. "No, no, no–"
He grabbed the book, flipped through the pages.
Nothing.
Only that one sentence, standing alone in the middle of a blank page.
"Where the hell did you go?" he whispered.
The room felt too empty.
The silence was too loud.
Then–
A knock on the door.
He froze.
Who the hell was knocking at this hour?
His heart slammed against his ribs.
He moved slowly, his fingers curling around the doorknob.
Took a deep breath.
And opened it.