THE SLAVE ACADEMY - HER OBSESSIVE BROKEN ALPHAS
I closed the window with shaking hands and sank onto my bed, folding my legs tightly to my chest.
“Who are you?” I typed back.
Seconds dragged like minutes. And no reply came.
Thinking of those notes, my heart pounded so hard it felt as if my ribs might crack. A thousand thoughts ran through me—Please, not the one who leaves the notes… anyone but him....
The screen lit again.
Unknown Number: “Wrong question.”
A chill ran down my spine. My hands shook as I typed. “How did you get my number?”
Another minute passed. Then the words appeared, making me swallow hard.
“That’s not smart.”
I stared at the message while beginning to chew on my nails.
“Then what’s the right question?”
Unknown Number: “Ask me how I could salt your dreams until you wake tasting it.”
The room felt smaller. My pulse hammered. My thumbs hovered over the screen. I typed, erased, typed again. Finally, I hit send:
“You are wasting both our time. You must be terrified to show yourself... afraid of being caught. You are nothing but a coward hiding in the dark.”
Yes, it was daring. But I had to show him I wasn’t afraid, that he couldn’t play with my head and enjoy every bit of it.
Unknown: I smell fear, Winter!
I won’t be seen. I won’t be called. But I will be constant. I will be the bad weather that never leaves your window. I will be the margin note on the book you never finish reading. I will be the heat that wakes you in the smallest of mornings and makes you think of nothing else.
I am your master and you are my bitch!
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Trimohini · Fantasy
Trimohini17h agoReplied to The_phoenixgirl