Chapter 4 The Encounter

"Bryson," I whispered.

He smiled, slow and soft. Like he already knew what I was feeling. Like he felt it too.

"Evelyn," he said, and the way he said my name-it wasn't fair. It curled into me, smooth and certain, as if it belonged to him now.

I straightened slowly, though part of me didn't want to. His hands lingered a second longer before letting go, and I instantly missed the contact.

"You okay?" he asked, tilting his head slightly, concern in every inch of his voice.

I nodded. "Just... I wasn't expecting to see you."

"I told you it wasn't a promise," he said. "It was fate."

God. Fate.

I should've laughed at that. Mocked the melodrama, brushed it off like I always did with the guys who flirted too hard. But with him?

It didn't feel like a line.

It felt like prophecy.

"You always this smooth with strangers in cafés?" I asked, trying to slow my heartbeat.

He shook his head. "Only with you."

I didn't know what to say to that.

So I did what I always did when words failed-I smiled and looked down.

He noticed.

Bryson stepped beside me at the counter and offered the barista a nod. "Add her drink to mine, please."

"You don't have to do that," I said quickly, but he just looked at me with a soft defiance.

"I want to."

The barista raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly, but didn't comment as she rang us up. I stepped aside, my cheeks was burning.

When we found a table in the far corner of the café, he let me sit first. The space between us was narrow but charged.

I took a sip of my drink and tried to breathe like a normal person.

He just watched me.

Like I was a sunrise he hadn't expected.

"You dream about me?" he asked, voice low.

I nearly choked. "What?"

His smile was wicked. "You looked like you did. When I walked in."

I stared into my tea. "That's... bold of you to assume."

"But not incorrect."

I didn't confirm it neither did I deny it.

We let the silence settle for a moment, the hum of the café wrapping around us like a blanket. Then he asked

"Why were you really at the amusement park that night?"

I looked up slowly. "I was escaping."

"From what?"

"From everything," I whispered. "Work. Loneliness. Myself, maybe."

He nodded like he understood. "I wasn't expecting you either. I was... searching."

"For what?"

"Answers."

There was something guarded in his tone. A layer of steel beneath the softness. I remembered the way his eyes had glinted when he mentioned the Forbidden. The way he'd looked at me like he was waiting for me to see something.

"You talk in riddles," I said softly.

He looked up, meeting my gaze. "Only because the truth is harder to explain."

I wanted to ask him what that truth was.

But instead, I said, "I've been thinking about that night a lot."

"So have I."

"I'm not sure if it's just the fairy lights or the mystery of it all, but... I haven't been able to stop."

Bryson reached forward, brushing his fingers gently across the rim of my cup, just barely touching my hand.

"It's not just the lights, Evelyn."

My breath caught.

His voice was full of weight. Like what he wasn't saying mattered more than what he was.

"I don't understand any of this," I admitted. "You feel... familiar. And yet I don't know anything about you."

"Ask me," he said.

I blinked. "What?"

"You said you wanted to know more. So ask."

I hesitated, then glanced around and leaned closer.

"Where are you from?" I asked.

He smiled. "Far."

"Not an answer." I added

"It's the truth." he replied

I narrowed my eyes. "You're impossible."

He leaned in, his mouth inches from mine. "And yet you're still here."

Touché.

I inhaled shakily. "What's the one thing you fear?"

He paused, and for the first time, something flickered in him. Like a shadow passed over his face.

"Losing control," he said.

The air shifted. That wasn't the kind of answer people gave in flirty conversations. It was too honest. Too real.

"Why?"

"Because the part of me that's dangerous doesn't care who it hurts."

I became stilled.

"You don't seem dangerous to me though," I whispered.

"I'm very good at pretending."

I didn't know whether I wanted to run or lean closer.

He must've seen the conflict in my eyes because he reached over, slowly, and took my hand.

His thumb brushed my knuckles.

It was warm, steady and undeniably human.

And yet...

Every instinct inside me whispered not human.

Then I thought of the books, the stories. And te warnings.

"Their love can destroy you."

I should've pulled away from him but I didn't.

Instead, I held on tighter.

Outside, the clouds gathered. A storm was coming. I could feel it in the shift of the wind, in the electricity humming just beneath the surface of his skin.

But in that café, with Bryson Wilder's hand in mine and the world narrowed to golden eyes and trembling heartbeats-I didn't care about legends or danger.

I just wanted him. Whatever he was, whoever he was.

I was already falling deeply in love with him.

And maybe, just maybe...

...he was falling in love with me too.

~

I was still holding Bryson's hand when the café door swung open and the temperature shifted. Not from the weather-but from something deeper. Something primal.

I glanced toward the entrance, and the breath caught in my throat.

He walked in like the wind followed him. Tall-taller than Bryson-with hair dark as night and storm-colored eyes that scanned the room like he could see through lies and skin. He had a confidence that didn't need permission, and his tailored coat only made his already broad frame seem larger. Danger wrapped in elegance.

His eyes landed on our table and locked on me.

"Bryson," he said, a small smirk curving his lips. "You didn't say you had company."

Bryson's jaw tensed slightly, though his voice was calm. "You're early."

"I was curious." He approached and turned those wintry eyes on me. "I'm Axel."

I blinked. "Evelyn."

He extended a hand, and I took it, surprised by how warm it was-how steady. There was something about his touch that felt... almost familiar. But not in the same way Bryson did.

Where Bryson felt like gravity, Axel was like fire-bright, intense, and a little dangerous.

"I'm a friend of his," Axel said, sliding into the chair beside Bryson, his arm brushing mine. "Just got into town."

Bryson didn't speak. But the muscle ticking in his jaw said enough.

"I didn't mean to interrupt," Axel continued smoothly, eyes still on me. "I just thought it was time I met the girl who made my friend look... human."

I stiffened slightly.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Bryson let out a sigh, but Axel only chuckled.

"Relax. I meant he's usually more... aloof."

I raised a brow. "You don't seem like someone who does small talk."

"Only with people who interest me."

And there it was.

A challenge, a compliment and a spark.

I didn't know whether to pull away or lean in.

Then the bell above the café door chimed again.

"Evelyn!"