The Stalker Next Door: 32. The Proof They Demand

The cabin was wreckage.

Splintered wood, broken glass, blood smeared like war paint across the floorboards. Rain hissed through the gaping doorway, soaking everything in its reach.

And in the center of it all, the Watchers.

The first knelt, gasping, face swollen and bloodied, rage burning in his eyes. The second stood over him, chest heaving, knuckles raw, his smirk curling like the blade of a knife.

But their gazes weren’t locked on each other anymore.

They were fixed on her. Demanding an explanation, an answer, a solution to the dilemma which was them - her watchers. 

Mara stood between them, barefoot on shards of glass, her pulse rattling in her throat. The silence pressed in, heavier than the storm, watching them. 

The first spat blood. His voice cracked when he rasped, “Tell him, Mara. Tell him you’re mine.”

The second’s grin widened, sharp and merciless. “Or tell him you’ve already left him for me.” He leaned, eyes glin