Forbidden Knots (Shadow Duet #1)

9. NINE

NINE

Storm

I came to this city in search of the unknown, not knowing what I would find—be it love, friendship, a new life, or new inspiration. Primarily, I came to escape—from my city, from my mother’s madness, from my father’s absence, from their broken relationship. I yearned to leave all my problems behind and start anew, free from the corruption that tainted my heart. I wanted to embrace Sophie and forge a genuine friendship.

Every word I spoke was true, except for one : that I had no interest in Tristan.

He is the only lie I live with, the secret desire I wake up to every morning. His presence is inescapable, right outside my window, always within sight. I never made the connection that he was Sophie’s brother. If I had, I wouldn’t have let my thoughts run wild with sinful imaginings. I wouldn’t want him as much as I do now. His eyes, his shadow, his body, his hair, his mouth—he is my forbidden desire, a secret I long to keep to myself.

Sophie saw right through me, and I hated her for it. "He is my brother!" she shouted, " God!"

"I didn’t do anything," I protested, "we didn’t do anything," I corrected myself.

"I swear, if you did, I would’ve killed you," she threatened. "The one thing I care about most is him. He’s all I have left."

I was silent, and she continued, "And you hang out with me just because of him, because all you want is to fuck him."

"That’s not true," I shouted back. "I didn’t know he was your brother."

"I thought I was fucked up, but you are fucking weird, Thalia. To watch him every day from your room and then to watch him fuck Chiara—that’s just messed up!" she screamed. "I don’t want to be your friend anymore."

I was fed up with all this drama that I never wanted in the first place. "You know what," I said, not looking at her, "you were never my friend anyway."

She opened her mouth to argue, but I didn’t let her. I stormed out, slamming the door behind me and running away from the house.

Across the street, Chiara and her friends were gathered. When they saw me, they started shouting and throwing eggs at the house.

"Slut, slut, slut," they yelled, laughing.

I slammed the door behind me, tears streaming down my cheeks. I ran up the stairs so fast that I didn’t notice my grandmother saying something to me. I locked myself in my room, sliding down against the door. Their taunts echoed off the walls, and my silent sobs grew deeper and deeper.

How can people be so cruel? How can they wish so much evil upon someone for just one look?

I got up slowly, went to the window, and closed the blinds. The room was enveloped in darkness, and I lay down on the bed, pulling the sheet over me. A knock came at the door, but I didn’t move. Pain gripped my chest, and a paralyzing restlessness kept me rooted to the spot.

"Bambina , is everything okay?" My grandma’s voice came through the door.

"Yeah," I called out softly, my voice barely audible.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked.

"No," I replied, my voice now clear.

"I will be here if you need to talk," she said, and then I heard her footsteps fade away.

I turned over, closing my eyes as tears streamed down my face. The way I felt was like falling deeper and deeper into an abyss, with no one able to save me. I had waited a long time for someone to come to my rescue, but in the end, I realized that I was the one who needed to save myself.

The sheet still covered my entire body, including my face, but I heard silent footsteps approaching. Despite my desire to feign sleep, my body began to tremble uncontrollably. Suddenly, the sheet tightened around my face, making it difficult to breathe. I gasped for air, my hands shaking and kicking the mattress until I lost my strength.

All I could hear were loud, ragged breaths, and I felt someone’s hands pressing against my neck through the sheet. My legs kicked frantically, but I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. My eyes began to close, and my mouth opened in a desperate attempt to draw in air, but there was none. I could feel the bruising marks on my neck, but then, suddenly, it all stopped. A loud knock echoed through the room, and I yanked the sheet away, gasping for air. For the first time in a long time, I felt truly alive. I wanted to live. I wanted to fight for my life and take control again. I wanted to exist.

As I got up, I saw someone moving in the darkness. Tilting my head to the left, I saw Grandma lying on the floor, face down, her mouth open and her eyes shut.

"What the...?" I started, kneeling beside her. One of my hands was on her, checking for any signs of life, while the other remained on my neck, trying to ease the painful bruises.

"I wouldn’t do that..." a voice said.

That voice—it was so familiar. Could it be?

My stalker emerged from the shadows, his face hidden by a hood. He was shielding his face, as always.

"If I had been a minute later..." he began, his voice raspy and deep. I had never heard him speak before, yet he sounded so familiar. As he stepped closer, my heart raced. I was scared, but more of my reaction to him than of him himself.

"You shouldn’t be here in the first place," I whispered, my hands still gently caressing my neck.

"Do you have a death wish or something?" he asked, stepping back as if realizing something.

"No," I said, my voice louder now. "Do you?" I asked, quickly moving to grab a lamp from the table.

But as I stepped closer, all he did was laugh, like he knew I couldn’t do it. Like I couldn’t defend myself. But I used to. I always defended myself, but ever since I arrived in this damn city, I couldn’t. It was like I had become a vulnerable soul, unable to decide whether to live or die, whether to care or not. Instead, I just existed.

"I know who you are," I said, my voice steady now, eyes locking onto his shadowy figure. "And I know what you want."

He stopped laughing, his eyes narrowing. "Do you, now?" he asked. The mockery in his tone was replaced by a hint of curiosity.

He came closer, snatching the lamp from my grip and spinning me around. His body pressed against my back, making me gasp as my heart raced. I felt his warm breath on my ear, a silent hum that matched the frantic beat of my heart. I closed my eyes, letting my hands fall to my sides, and then I felt his hand touch mine.

I gasped again.

"Why are you like this, my little Storm?" he whispered, his voice a dangerous caress. "Why are you fighting your feelings?"

"I don't know you," I said, trying to move my hand away, but he grabbed my arms, pulling me closer. His lips brushed against my neck.

"You want me," he whispered again, his voice a dark promise. "I see how you look at me. I can hear your heartbeat," he chuckled, his hand moving lower. "Your hand trembles at my touch; you can't resist the urge."

"You’re delusional," I shouted, struggling to free myself. Each attempt was met with a tighter grip.

His laugh pierced the room, chilling and triumphant. He spun me around, and his lips crashed onto mine. His tongue forcefully thrust into my mouth, dancing with mine. My eyes shut tight, and all I saw was darkness, but my body felt electric as if a storm raged within my heart.

He stopped, pulling away, and again my back pressed against his body just before I opened my eyes. "Do me a favor, Storm," he whispered, his voice low and commanding, "live for me."

"Sorry to break it to you, but I am alive," I said defiantly.

"Are you?" he asked, releasing me. Just as I turned, he was already at the window, his back to me.

"Are you real?" I asked my palm on my lips. "I’m not imagining you, am I?"

He tilted his head just enough for me to see his smile, almost mocking, as if he were playing with me. Then he jumped, and by the time I reached the window, he was already gone.

A strange smile tugged at my lips, as if saying goodbye, but something inside me refused to let go.

Behind me, I heard a whisper, "Rose," Grandma said, her voice frail. "Rose, is that you?"

She slowly got up, looking disoriented. "Why am I here? What happened?"

I shook my head, trying to make sense of it all. "You tell me."

"I..." she began, her face downcast. "I don’t remember."

I knew I shouldn’t trust her. I knew I shouldn’t even be in the same room with her at night, but she was still my grandma. She was old and losing herself, and I couldn’t leave her like this.

"It's okay, Grandma," I said softly, helping her to her feet. "Let's get you back to bed."