The Stalker Next Door: 21. Breakung Point

The morning sun filtered through the cabin’s curtains, painting the room gold.

Mara lay rigid in the bed, his arm heavy around her waist, his breath warm against her neck. Her body still throbbed with the echoes of last night, a betrayal she couldn’t scrub away no matter how tightly she clenched her fists in the sheets.

He had touched her like she mattered. He had made her tremble, made her cry out, made her come.

And that was worse than the first watcher’s cruelty. So much worse.

Because she hadn’t wanted it. Not truly. And yet her body had responded like it did.

That was his trap. Not chains, not bruises, not screams. But gentleness. Convincing her that she might actually want to stay.

Mara closed her eyes. Her decision crystallized with the clarity of ice. She would rather die in the woods than let herself be tamed.

Today, she would run.

She moved with care, inch by inch, sliding his arm off her waist. His breathing stayed deep, steady. Sh