Ayla Khan had officially reached the peak of her life crisis.
Not the "I forgot my deadline" kind.
Not even the "I'm emotionally attached to a fictional villain" kind.
No.
This was worse.
Because she was currently staring at a book that had just texted her.
"Okay," she said out loud, pacing in the empty office hallway.
"Let's think logically."
Pause.
"…no, actually, let's not. Logic left five minutes ago."
Her phone was still in her hand.
That message still on the screen.
Will you still want me… now that I can see you too?
She swallowed.
"First of all," she whispered, "this is harassment."
Second of all—
Why did that line sound so attractive?
"No," she pointed at her phone like it had personally offended her,
"we are NOT doing this.
You are a fictional red flag.
Stay in your lane."
Silence.
No reply.
Which was somehow worse.
Ayla exhaled shakily and dragged a hand through her hair.
"Okay.
New plan.
We go home.
We sleep.
We pretend none of this happened."
Yes.
Perfect.
Healthy.
Mentally stable behavior.
She turned—
And froze.
Because the hallway… wasn't the hallway anymore.
The bright office lights flickered
once.
Twice.
Then dimmed.
The white walls—
Shifted.
Not physically.
But visually.
Like shadows were bleeding into them.
Stretching.
Moving.
Her breath hitched.
"…nope."
She spun around—
The exit door was gone.
"NOPE."
She grabbed her bag, her phone, her sanity (barely holding on) and speed-walked back toward her desk.
"This is a dream," she muttered.
"This is a stress dream.
I will wake up.
I will drink chai.
Everything will be fine."
Her desk came into view.
The book sat there.
Closed.
Waiting.
"…you started this," she pointed accusingly at it.
The air felt colder now.
Thicker.
Like before—
But stronger.
Pulling.
"Don't touch it," she warned herself.
Naturally—
She touched it.
The second her fingers brushed the cover—
The world broke.
Not shattered.
Not exploded.
Just—
Folded.
Like reality had been a piece of paper all along.
The office vanished.
The noise.
The light.
Everything—
Gone.
And then—
Darkness.
Deep.
Endless.
"Okay," Ayla's voice echoed slightly, "this is new."
She blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Her feet weren't on the ground anymore.
Correction—
There was no ground.
"…great," she sighed.
"I'm floating. Love that for me."
Then—
Gravity remembered her.
"WAIT—"
She dropped.
Fast.
Very fast.
"THIS IS NOT IN THE BOOK—!"
Wind rushed past her ears as darkness twisted into something else—
Shapes.
Colors.
Silver light.
A sky.
A very dramatic, moonlit sky.
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me—"
She hit the ground.
Hard.
"Ow—!"
Ayla groaned, pushing herself up onto her elbows.
"…okay," she breathed, "I'm alive. That's a win."
Her body ached.
Her head spun.
But she was—
Outside.
Not office outside.
Not city outside.
No.
This was…
Different.
Cold air brushed against her skin.
Real air.
She slowly lifted her head.
And froze.
"…oh."
The sky above her wasn't normal.
It was darker.
Deeper.
The moon hung massive and bright, casting silver light over everything like something out of a painting.
Tall structures rose in the distance—
Black.
Elegant.
Terrifying.
And familiar.
Too familiar.
Her stomach dropped.
"No way."
She turned slowly.
Taking it all in.
The architecture.
The silence.
The feeling.
"…Velmora?"
Her voice came out barely above a whisper.
"No, no, no—"
She stood up quickly, stumbling slightly.
"This is not funny. This is NOT funny."
Her hands flew to her head.
"I was joking. I didn't mean it. I don't want to be in the book!"
A pause.
Then quieter—
"…okay maybe a little, but not like this."
A distant sound echoed through the night.
Footsteps.
Not hers.
Ayla froze.
"…yeah, that's my cue to leave."
Except—
Where exactly was she supposed to go?
She turned—
And immediately regretted it.
Because standing a few feet away—
Half-hidden in shadow—
Was a figure.
Tall.
Still.
Watching her.
Her brain stopped working.
Completely.
"…"
"…okay," she said slowly, "that's fine. We stay calm. We don't panic."
Her survival instincts, however, had other plans.
"WHO ARE YOU—?!" she blurted.
Smooth..
Very smooth.
The figure stepped forward.
Moonlight caught his face.
And everything inside her—
Collapsed.
"…oh."
No.
No no no.
That was not fair.
That was illegal.
That was—
Him.
Exactly as she imagined.
No—
Worse.
Better.
Real.
Sharp features.
Dark eyes.
That same calm, dangerous expression like he already knew everything and didn't care enough to explain it.
Zyren Valcair.
The villain.
The monster.
The man she had been emotionally simping for like an idiot.
Now standing in front of her.
In real life.
Ayla blinked.
Once.
Twice.
"…I need to apologize to every fictional character I've ever insulted," she whispered.
Silence stretched between them.
Heavy.
Charged.
His gaze didn't leave her.
Not for a second.
It moved slowly—
Taking her in.
Confused.
Out of place.
Completely human.
Her heart was beating so loud she was sure he could hear it.
"Okay," she said, pointing at him slightly, "before you do anything violent—"
She paused.
Because he had started walking toward her.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Predatory.
"…that's not reassuring."
She took a step back.
He took one forward.
Her voice dropped to a nervous whisper.
"Listen… I know how this goes.
You're going to say something cold and threatening and I'm supposed to be scared—"
He stopped right in front of her.
Close.
Too close.
Her breath caught.
"…hi," she finished weakly.
For a moment—
He said nothing.
Just looked at her.
Like she was something strange.
Something new.
Something he didn't quite understand—
But wanted to.
Then—
very quietly—
he spoke.
"You talk more than I expected."
Ayla blinked.
"…rude."
A pause.
Then, despite everything—
she added—
"Also, I expected you to be taller."
Silence.
Dangerous silence.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
And for the first time—
There was something there.
Not anger.
Not cruelty.
Something sharper.
More interested.
"You expected me?" he repeated.
Her brain screamed: STOP TALKING.
Her mouth said—
"Well, yeah. I've read the book."
Pause.
"…a lot."
Another pause.
"…like, an unhealthy amount, actually."
Why was she like this?
Why.
Zyren stared at her.
Longer this time.
As if trying to peel her apart layer by layer.
Then—
something shifted.
Just slightly.
The corner of his mouth—
Moved.
Not quite a smile.
But close enough to ruin her entire existence.
"Good," he said softly.
Her heart skipped.
"Because I've been watching you."
Ayla froze.
"…I'm sorry, WHAT?"