Page 1 of Ruin

Chapter One

Arik

Ifirst noticed the scent as noon approached. It brushed past me like a feather across skin—there for a moment, then gone—only to return minutes later, softer. Time and time again, as the hours wore on, it grew more maddening.

It dangled itself like meat before a starving beast.

Teasing. Mocking. Intentional.

Years spent writhing in pain from a hunger that no amount of feeding could satisfy. And here I was, finally chasing her proximity as the hunger clawed inside my chest.

The scent did not linger for long before disappearing into the nonexistent wind, making me wonder if I ever sensed her to begin with. I questioned if I was losing my mind, my reality, my control. As the sun settled just beyond the vine-covered hills, it got stronger, staying for longer and longer each time until it no longer ran from me.

A scent like no other. Not an artificial scent like perfume. No, this was the scent of a woman, something that could not be bottled or replicated.

Her scent. Her heat. Her skin, alive and shifting beneath the sun.

A whole life, folded into musk and motion. The nape of her neck. The crook of her arm. Her thighs sliding against one another, with hints of thick cotton warming between them. I pictured her skin, subtly moist, glistening in the sunshine, reflecting the golden rays like a mirror. A singular bead of sweat rolling down her back, caressing her curves like a winding road through forbidden terrain, too curved to see what awaits just beyond.

The lightest smell of musk, her musk, and underlying hints of lavender and soap. It beckoned to me, consuming my every thought. I was powerless as it stole my focus, making me chase it through the winery’s halls, around the garden, down rows of vines—my body silently circling, moving instantaneously in the shadows.

But it started to move with precision, mocking my feeble attempts to corner it. As soon as I thought I was closing in upon it, it would fade. I almost heard it whisper to me, laughter spun from air and water, hidden beneath the stale drip of the stone fountain’s endless breath.

She’s almost here.

And when she comes to me…she will not leave.

Chapter Two

Claire

Wind whipped strings of wet hair against my face as the salty sea air stung my eyes. The sea raged with anger, as the beastly waves violently crashed into the black sand shore just mere feet from me. Dark sky surrounded me above, as bright flashes of lightning peeked out through the dense clouds. I was stuck in an alcove, surrounded by tall slate cliffs, blackened by the wet air. Before me, a haze of fog filled every direction. It was thick, like smoke, and quickly absorbed all the oxygen. There was nowhere to go and no escape as the waves pushed closer toward me, pinning me back against the jagged cliff.

Each breath drew the water closer as I searched my surroundings for an escape. My body, cold and stiff, thrashed against the slate with each wave. I looked for any place to put my hands, hoping to pull myself up from the rising dark waters. No matter how hard I tried to hoist myself up, my frozen hands slipped from the smooth surface, causing my body to crash back down into the water that nipped at my waist.

My bare feet struggled to find any kind of ledge to gain even an inch of elevation as I fought against the violent waves that crashed around me. The more I fought, the more it fought back. I wondered if the Grim Reaper was in the distance, holding his scythe and hiding among the fog, watching the waves do his bidding.

Another soul to collect.

I gasped, taking the dense air deep into my lungs until I choked, with delicate bubbles of air escaping into the black waters surrounding my face.

I jolted upright in bed, my chest heaving as the remnants of the nightmare clung to me. The room filled with the harsh echoes of my rapid, shallow breath as the incessant beeping of my phone’s alarm drilled into my skull. Darkness pressed in from all sides, broken only by a thin sliver of yellow light sneaking in from under the hotel room door.

My heart pounded in my ears as my eyes struggled to adjust, the room gradually taking shape around me. Slowly, my vision sharpened, and I forced my breathing to steady. My trembling hands fumbled through the tangled sheets, searching desperately until they found my phone. The cold blue light of the screen sliced through the darkness and displayed 18:00—a stark, unforgiving reminder that I had less than fifty minutes to get out of this room and make it to dinner with Antonio. I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and took two deep breaths as I braced my hands on the edge of the mattress under me.

What the hell did that dream mean? I can’t remember the last time I had a dream so vivid, so disorienting. Sure, I’d had nightmares after Alex and I broke up last month, and I certainly had nightmares about my parents over the last few years, but nothing quite like this. So ominous, like my mind was trying to give me pieces to a puzzle I didn’t know I was putting together.

I flicked on the bedside lamp, its dull glow casting long, eerie shadows across the room as I raced to the bathroom. The mirror above the sink reflected a face I barely recognized: pale, with dark circles etched beneath my eyes and hair clinging damply to the back of my neck. Sweat was beading along my hairline and trickling down my temples, a reminder of the nightmare that had shaken me. The details were already slipping away, but the feeling remained as the heavy weight pressed down on me, and my chest tightened.

“You can do this,” I whispered to myself in the mirror, the words sounding hollow in the empty room. I squared my shoulders and took a deep, steady breath, determined to push through the fog.

I turned my attention to the task at hand, starting with the basics. The ancient, yellowed blow dryer, anchored to the wall with a short, coiled cord, whirred to life in my hand. Its weak, lukewarm air barely dried my hair, but it was all I had. So, I worked methodically, section by section, until my hair was no longer plastered to my scalp.

“Shit,” I muttered. After nine hours of travel, I’d fallen asleep as soon as I had lain down in the bed, completely forgetting to call my mom. As I pressed her contact card on our text thread, I put my phone on speaker, resting it on the bathroom counter as I did my makeup.

My mom sang, “Hello!” Her voice greeted me like a warm hug.

I sang back with excitement, mustering every bit of energy I had left in my body. “I made it!”