Dark Obsession

Faith's POV:

The evening was unusually quiet as I walked down the street, my footsteps a rhythmic beat against the cracked pavement. It was one of those rare moments when everything felt still—almost too still. I couldn't shake the feeling that something was about to change, but I couldn’t quite place why. As I walked past row after row of identical homes, something about this small town seemed... off. The air was heavy with secrets, and the quiet seemed to speak of things unsaid.

That’s when I saw it: a house with a “For Sale” sign planted firmly in the yard. It was beautiful, striking even—an older home with ivy climbing up the stone walls, the kind of place that whispered of stories and old memories. The woman standing next to the sign caught my attention as she wiped her brow nervously, her eyes darting to the sky, to her watch, and back again.

I paused, curiosity getting the better of me. “Hello?” I called, my voice breaking the silence like a bell in the distance. The woman’s head snapped up, and her expression softened in relief.

“Are you selling?” I asked, stepping closer, trying to ignore the unease that seemed to cling to her like a shadow.

“Are you buying?” she responded almost too quickly, as if she were desperate for an answer, as though she needed me to take the house off her hands. There was something in her voice that made me wonder if she was more afraid than eager.

I cocked my head, my gaze drifting to the bandage on her neck. It looked fresh. I didn’t ask about it. I didn’t want to overstep, but the question lingered in the back of my mind. "I was just browsing," I said instead. "Are you closing soon?"

She wiped her hands on her blazer, a nervous laugh escaping her lips. “I’m just… I’m not feeling well today,” she said quickly, glancing nervously at the road as if waiting for something. “Everyone else has already left. I’m Chloe Saunders.” She extended a hand, and I shook it, still trying to shake off the sense of discomfort growing in my chest.

“Faith Jacobson,” I replied with a faint smile. “I take it I’m a bit of an outsider here?”

Chloe’s smile was thin, but it carried an odd sense of acknowledgment. “Small town. Everyone knows everyone. It’s not hard to spot a new face,” she said, her gaze drifting once more across the street, her unease palpable.

"I’ve seen a few houses," I continued, trying to push past her discomfort, "but none quite as elegant as this one."

She gave a short nod, then seemed to snap back to attention. "Would you like to take a look inside?" The invitation seemed casual enough, but I could see the nervous energy crackling in the air around her.

"If it wouldn’t take up too much of your time," I said, intrigued but still sensing something was off.

Chloe led me into the house, her footsteps echoing softly in the grand hallway. She moved quickly, showing me the rooms one by one—grand, open spaces filled with soft light, high ceilings, and vintage furniture that seemed to belong to another era. But despite the beauty of the home, my attention kept drifting toward the window, to the street outside, to something that didn’t quite fit.

Across the road, there was another house—one that looked like it had been forgotten by time. The paint was chipped, the lawn overgrown. It was dark, lifeless compared to the others, and something about it made my skin prickle. As I stared at it, Chloe joined me by the window, standing a little too close for comfort.

“You might want to stay away from that house,” she said in a hushed voice, her eyes flicking to the place I was staring at. “The owner… he’s not like the others.”

I turned to her, raising an eyebrow. “A jerk? An egotistical narcissist?” I half-joked, trying to break the tension.

But Chloe didn’t laugh. Instead, she shivered slightly, the smile fading from her face. "He's... odd. And deadly. No one really sees him during the day. He’s a nightwalker." Her voice faltered on the last word. “He’s got a scar across his face. No one knows how he got it, but people say it’s the least dangerous thing about him.”

"Nightwalker?" I echoed, intrigued but unsettled. "What does that mean?"

Chloe didn’t answer. She looked at her watch, then down at the floor, her hands trembling. “I’m sorry, Faith. It’s getting late,” she said abruptly, ushering me toward the door with an air of finality.

I looked at my phone—it was only 4:30 p.m. What was she so worried about?

As she handed me the keys to the house, I felt an odd sensation in my chest. A pull, almost like the house itself was calling to me. Without thinking, the words slipped from my mouth, and before I could stop myself, I said, “I’ll take it.”

Chloe’s eyes darkened for a moment, and her smile wavered, something unreadable flashing across her face. "Give me everything in two days," she said, her voice strained, "Enjoy your house..."

The way she said it made my stomach twist with unease, but I didn’t know why. I took the keys from her, my mind still whirling with confusion. Why did everything feel wrong today? The grocery store woman had shouted something about "the devil" being upon us, and now Chloe… this house. I shook my head, trying to clear the thoughts. Maybe it was just a weird day. I was starting a new chapter, and surely things would settle soon.

The next morning, I returned with movers to start settling into my new home. The sun was bright, the air crisp, and I tried to push away the strange feelings that seemed to follow me. I sang along to my music as I hauled boxes inside, the rhythm of the songs helping me ignore the sense of unease that had settled in my chest. The movers chuckled at my off-key singing, but I didn’t care. It felt good to be doing something normal for a change.

Once the heavy furniture was in, I started dusting, vacuuming, mopping, and organizing. I wanted to make the house feel like mine—my space, where I could finally start fresh. As I opened the curtains, I spotted the house across the street again. The one that seemed so empty. So cold.

It was then that I felt it. The sudden chill in the air. My gaze drifted to the window, and for a moment, I thought I saw something move behind the curtain. Someone. But when I blinked, there was nothing there.

Shaking my head, I tried to dismiss it. I’m just tired. It’s nothing.

Alessandro’s POV:

From behind the thick curtains of my home, I watched her. My little mate. Her voice, soft and sweet, floated across the yard like a melody from another world. I was captivated by her—how she moved, how she smiled, how effortlessly she seemed to take control of this space, of this life that had once been so empty, so cold.

She was mine. She just didn’t know it yet.

But as I watched, something stirred within me. A man—Dimitri—was walking across the yard, a broad smile on his face as he approached her. No.

My claws dug into the window sill as I watched him smile at her, watched him touch her, laugh with her. My blood burned with jealousy, something dark and possessive rising within me. No one touches her. No one.

I barely realized that I had crushed my glass of brandy in my hand, the dark liquid spilling across the floor, unnoticed. My focus was entirely on her. She belongs to me.

Faith’s POV:

I didn’t know what to think as I stood on my new front porch, wiping the water from my lips after taking a quick sip.

And then, out of nowhere, I was face to face with him. A man so strikingly handsome it took my breath away. His dark eyes glinted with mischief as he offered a charming smile.

“Dimitri,” he said with an easy grin. “You live next door to me, I see.” He winked, and I couldn’t help but blush.

“Well, Dimitri,” I said, trying to keep my composure, “It’s nice to meet you. So, what do people do for fun around here?”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed by my directness. “Why don’t I pick you up tonight at seven? There’s a group of people who’d love to meet you. You’re the talk of the town, after all.”

I hesitated. "Talk of the town? You sure that’s okay? I don’t want to be a burden or intrude…”

He smiled down at me, his hand resting gently on my shoulder. “You won’t be a burden, and you won’t intrude,” he said, his voice like velvet.

“See you then, Faith,” he grinned, and walked away, leaving me standing there, unsure of what was happening.

But across the street, I couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching. And I didn’t know why, but a chill ran down my spine.