The Pressure Builds

In my hand, the note charred.

My fingers gripped the paper tighter as I read it again.

• "You believe he poses the greatest threat? You're not correct. Before it's too late, run.*

My heart was racing.

This was sent by whom? Furthermore, how could they enter my room undetected?

I felt a chill go through me.

I ought to have been terrified. As instructed in the memo, I ought to have gathered my belongings and fled.

Instead, Damian was the only thing on my mind.

The way he treated me as though I were his. Long after he was gone, I could still feel his touch on my flesh.

For causing me to feel this way, I detested him.

I detested the fact that my mind was still caught up in him, even while danger loomed in the darkness.

I stuffed the note into the drawer after folding it.

I required clarification.

Additionally, I could only get them from one person.

---

In his study, I discovered Damian.

With a drink of whiskey in one hand and the other resting on the armrest, he sat behind a big mahogany desk.

He appeared composed. Too quiet.

As if he hadn't simply let me leave the night before. As if he hadn't just constructed a trap that I was about to fall into again.

I slammed the door behind me as I rushed inside. "Did you send this?"

The message was tossed onto the desk.

Damian's face was unreadable as he looked at it.

He lifted it cautiously and read the text.

He clenched his jaw.

"Where did you get this?"

"It was slipped under my door this morning." I was so frustrated that my voice trembled. Damian, someone was in my room. Someone who believes that you are not the true threat.

After putting the note down, he reclined in his chair. "They’re right."

I blinked. "What?"

Damian's lips curled, but they were devoid of amusement. "I’m not the only monster in your life, Lyra."

My stomach turned over. "What does that mean?"

He got up and walked around the desk until he was only a few inches away. The air between us was sucked up by his presence, which filled the room.

His voice was low as he replied, "It means that whoever sent this note knows something you don't." "And I intend to find out what it is."

I tried to ignore his proximity by crossing my arms. "You expect me to just sit here and do nothing?"

"Yes."

I sneered. "Not happening."

Damian's eyes became gloomy. "Lyra—"

"No," I yelled. "I'm tired of being managed. I'm tired of being handled like a delicate object that requires guardianship.

He reached out and grabbed my chin. Not rough. But resolute.

"You think I’m controlling you?" His breath was warm against my flesh, and his voice was harsh.

I took a swallow. "You give me instructions. Where to go. Whom should I trust?

He cocked his head. You're still standing here, though. Still opposing me. Does that seem like someone controlling a woman?

He's a jerk.

He made my heart race, damn it.

Whispering, "I want answers, Damian,"

For a half-second, his eyes lowered to my lips before raising again. "And I want you to trust me."

We were engaged in a conflict that neither of us wanted to lose, and we stood there.

Then—

His phone rang.

With a low curse, he took a step back and took it out of his pocket.

He snapped, "Talk," into the receiver.

I saw the hardening of his face. He didn't like what he was hearing.

He commanded, "Find out who sent it," "And double security around the estate."

A pause.

Then he gripped the phone more tightly. "Whatever it takes, I don't care. Take care of it.

After hanging up, he turned to face me.

"You’re not leaving my sight," he declared.

I raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

He said, "You heard me," with ease. "Wherever you go, I go."

I gave a harsh chuckle. "That’s ridiculous."

"It’s necessary."

I gave a headshake. "You’re impossible."

Damian grinned. "And you’re still here."

Again, damn him.

I snatched the note from the desk and rushed to the exit.

I tossed over my shoulder, "You can follow me all you want," that is. "But it doesn’t mean I’ll stop fighting you."

As I turned to leave, his voice followed.

"That’s what makes this so fun, sweetheart."

---

### That evening later

Staring at the ceiling, I lay in bed.

All day, Damian hadn't left me alone.

He was everywhere. Observing. Awaiting. Smirking as though he was aware of something I was not.

What's the worst?

I wasn't entirely opposed to it.

I detested that aspect of myself.

I sighed in frustration and sat up. I needed to get some air because the place felt stuffy.

I padded toward the balcony after sneaking out of bed. As I stepped outside, the cool night breeze caressed my skin.

Then I sensed it.

A presence.

I went cold.

I was being watched.

With my pulse thumping, I looked around the shadows.

"Damian?" I muttered.

Not a word.

I backed off a little unsteadily. Perhaps I was dreaming. Perhaps—

A shadow shifted.

Then—

A voice.

Low. Laughing.

"You should have run when you had the chance, Lyra."

When I turned around, nobody was there.

As I moved toward the balcony railing, my heart pounded. Below, under the moonlight, the estate grounds extended.

Empty.

Too bare.

Then I noticed something leaning against the railing.

A lighter made of silver.

My fingers brushed the cool metal as I grabbed for it. I didn't recognize the odd sign that was engraved into the surface.

A caution.

A message.

I didn't realize how close the danger was.

And Damian may not be the one pulling the strings this time.