WANTED by the GODDESS

The night Elion Drevan's life changed forever began like any other - quiet, empty, and laced with the dull ache of a dreamless sleep.

Rain tapped softly against the cracked windowpane of his one-room apartment, the ceiling fan above groaning in its rhythmic cycle. Elion lay sprawled on his old mattress, wrapped in the tangled sheets of a bed that felt more like a prison than a place of rest. His fingers twitched in his sleep. His breathing quickened. Somewhere deep in his mind, a voice was calling.

"Elion..."

The whisper was soft, almost like the wind, but it echoed with impossible clarity. It wasn't a name he heard often - not from anyone who mattered. Yet in the dream, it was spoken with reverence, as if the syllables themselves held power.

He opened his eyes within the dream and found himself standing barefoot in a vast, moonlit field. The grass shimmered like silver, swaying to an unseen rhythm. Above, the stars pulsed and danced - closer than they should be, brighter than he'd ever seen.

And there she was.

At the center of it all stood a woman - tall, radiant, cloaked in midnight and fire. Her hair moved like waves in a breeze that didn't exist. Her eyes, glowing pools of gold, locked onto his with a hunger that made him feel both exposed and deeply seen.

She didn't speak again. She didn't need to.

Elion couldn't breathe. He couldn't move. His body belonged to her now, and deep down, it felt terrifyingly... right.

The goddess lifted her hand, and with a single gesture, the stars bent toward her. The sky cracked open, and warmth - no, power - flooded into Elion's chest like molten light. He gasped as symbols he didn't understand etched themselves across his skin, glowing briefly before vanishing.

And just like that, he woke up.

Elion sat up in bed, drenched in sweat, heart pounding like he'd run a marathon. The clock on his wall blinked 4:07 a.m. in broken red digits. Rain was still falling outside, but everything else felt wrong - as if the dream had followed him into the waking world.

He swung his legs off the bed, reaching for the half-empty bottle of water beside his lamp. His hands trembled. That dream had felt too real.

He rubbed at his chest where he had felt the warmth - and froze.

There, faint but unmistakable, was a glowing mark. It shimmered briefly before fading away like steam.

"What the hell...?"

Elion stumbled to the bathroom, flipped on the light, and stared at his reflection. Nothing. No glow, no scar, no mark. Just the same tired, hollow-eyed young man who had been scraping through life one odd job at a time. He splashed water on his face and laughed nervously.

"Get it together, Elion," he muttered. "Just a dream. A weird, sexy dream."

And yet...

When he returned to his room, his phone lit up with a notification. His bank app was open - even though he hadn't touched it.

Balance: $9,842,500.00

His heart skipped.

He blinked. Rubbed his eyes. Refreshed the app.

Still there.

He didn't even have $100 in his account last night. That amount could've been a glitch. Maybe fraud. Maybe-

A second notification appeared.

Funds received: $9,842,500.00 – Transfer from Unknown Benefactor.

Elion stared at the screen, his mind racing.

Unknown benefactor?

He wasn't rich. He wasn't connected. He had no wealthy relatives, no business partners, no sponsors. The only woman remotely interested in him was his neighbor's elderly aunt who thought he looked like a young prophet.

Was this... a gift?

No. It couldn't be. It made no sense.

And yet, the warmth in his chest returned. That same feeling from the dream. That same whisper.

"Elion..."

He dropped the phone, backing away as though it had burned him.

His heart thundered. A chill snaked down his spine.

Someone was in his apartment.

No... not someone.

Something.

He turned slowly, eyes scanning the room. Nothing. No shadows where they shouldn't be. No creaking doors.

But when he looked in the mirror again, for the briefest moment - a heartbeat, no more - her face appeared behind his. The glowing eyes. The fire-like hair. The same unreadable gaze.

And then she was gone.

Elion stumbled backward, gasping. He wanted to scream, but no sound came. He grabbed his coat, his keys, and bolted from the apartment into the rain.

He didn't stop running until he reached the bus stop two blocks away, breath ragged, clothes soaked. The streets were silent at that hour, just the occasional flicker of neon and the low hum of distant generators.

Was he going crazy?

Or had he been chosen?

The next day, Elion tried to act normal. He went to work - though his dusty furniture job suddenly didn't feel so necessary anymore. He stared at the numbers in his account, trying not to believe them. He asked the bank. They had no info about the sender.

Strangers smiled at him more. The coffee girl gave him a free drink. His boss told him he looked "blessed today."

And all the while, the mark on his chest kept reappearing when no one else was looking.

By nightfall, Elion sat in the darkness of his room, his windows shut tight, curtains drawn.

He felt her again. Watching. Waiting.

And when he finally gave in to sleep, the stars returned.

And she was waiting for him.