Prologue
Seattle, Washington
November 23rd, 2011
She couldn't see his face, but his voice-smooth as velvet-wrapped around her, teasing and tormenting. For the last three months, that same voice had haunted her dreams. Lately, though, she wasn't sure where the dream ended, and reality began.
Now she was running, her bare feet slapping against the cold hardwood floor of her apartment hallway. The silky sound of his laugh surrounded her, echoing in her ears, growing louder with every step she took. She sprinted toward the bathroom-the only room in her tiny flat with a lock-but the hallway stretched unnaturally long. No matter how fast she ran, the door stayed maddeningly out of reach, slipping farther away like a mirage.
Then, as dreams often do, it changed.
She was back in her bed. She couldn't move. Panic bloomed in her chest as the shadowy figure of a man loomed above her. His weight pressed down, pinning her in place, and the harder she struggled, the heavier it grew-like an invisible vice crushing the air from her lungs.
"Don't struggle," the voice whispered, low and intimate, so close she felt the warmth of his breath against her skin. She jerked her head to the side, desperate to escape the sensation, but it was everywhere. Her heart thundered in her chest, each beat loud enough to drown out rational thought.
"You're special to me," he murmured, his words soft but carrying a dark edge.
She tried to scream, but her voice was trapped beneath the suffocating pressure. His fingers clamped around her wrists, pinning them beside her head. The grip was bruising, iron hard. She bucked, kicked, twisted-anything to break free-but his strength was unyielding, inhuman.
"You won't wake until I say," he said, a cruel laugh threading through his words. "In this world, you're powerless against me."
Tears welled in her eyes, blurring the shadow of his face. Her chest burned with the need to cry out, to breathe. Her limbs ached from the futile struggle. She wanted to fight, but exhaustion seeped into her bones, sapping her will. How could she feel so tired in a dream?
"Good girl," the voice purred as her body finally stilled. "Wake up."
