Ayla Khan had made many questionable decisions in her life.
Eating ice cream at 2 AM knowing she was lactose intolerant?
Yes.
Procrastinating a fourteen-hour job until the last possible minute?
Also yes.
Falling in love with a fictional villain who would absolutely kill her in three seconds?
…unfortunately, yes.
But standing in front of said villain—
In his world.
In his personal space.
After he just casually admitted he'd been watching her?
This.
This was her worst decision.
"…I'm going to need you to explain that," she said, holding up a hand like she was in charge here.
(She was not.)
Zyren didn't move.
Didn't blink.
Didn't even look slightly concerned that she wasn't currently fainting or running for her life.
Instead, he tilted his head slightly, studying her like she was a puzzle he hadn't decided whether to solve or destroy.
"You speak as if you have the authority to demand answers."
Ayla blinked.
"…okay, first of all—rude."
There was a pause.
A long one.
The kind that usually came before someone got murdered.
She cleared her throat.
"Second of all, I deserve answers. I was minding my business, living my very stressful, underpaid life, and suddenly—boom—fantasy kidnapping."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"Kidnapping?"
"Yes," she said immediately. "I did not consent to interdimensional travel."
Silence.
Then—
very faintly—
his lips twitched.
Ayla froze.
"…did you just almost smile?"
"Careful," he said softly. "You're very close to sounding amusing."
She placed a hand over her chest dramatically.
"Oh, I'm hilarious. People just don't appreciate my talent."
Another pause.
Then—
He stepped closer.
Ayla's brain: panic.
Her body: freeze.
Her mouth: "You smell expensive."
…
She closed her eyes.
"Why did I say that?"
When she opened them again—
He was closer.
Much closer.
Close enough that she could see the slight shift in his expression.
Interest.
Clear. Undeniable.
"You're not reacting correctly," he murmured.
Ayla frowned.
"I'm sorry, is there a guidebook I missed? 'How to behave when kidnapped by a hot vampire king'?"
His gaze sharpened.
"You don't fear me."
She considered that.
Honestly.
Carefully.
Then shrugged.
"I mean… I should."
Pause.
"…but I read the book."
That made him still.
Completely.
The air around them seemed to tighten.
"Explain."
Ah.
There it was.
The dangerous tone.
The one that said people usually didn't survive this conversation.
Ayla swallowed.
"Okay… so… small detail," she began, gesturing vaguely, "in my world, you're fictional."
Silence.
Not normal silence.
Heavy silence.
The kind that made your instincts scream you messed up.
Zyren's eyes darkened slightly.
"Fictional," he repeated.
"Yeah."
She nodded.
"You're in a book. Very popular, by the way. Great character development. Terrible emotional availability."
She winced.
"…that sounded better in my head."
He stared at her.
Longer this time.
As if deciding whether she was insane—
Or telling the truth.
"And you," he said slowly, "claim to have… read my life?"
"Multiple times," she admitted.
"…don't judge me."
His gaze didn't soften.
If anything—
It sharpened further.
"Then you know what I am."
Ayla nodded.
"Dangerous. Murdery. Emotionally constipated."
Another pause.
"…also kind of iconic."
There it was again.
That almost-smile.
Barely there.
But enough to make her heart do something extremely embarrassing.
"This is unbelievable," she muttered, looking up at the sky. "I get transported into a fantasy world and instead of dying immediately, I'm flirting with the villain."
"Flirting?" he echoed.
Her head snapped back to him.
"No. That's not what I said."
"You implied it."
"I absolutely did not imply—"
"You called me 'hot.'"
"I panicked!"
Silence.
Then—
quietly—
"You're honest."
Ayla blinked.
"…that's not usually a compliment."
"It is here."
That—
did something.
Something small.
But real.
For a second, the tension shifted.
Less predator.
More… curiosity.
Then—
voices echoed in the distance.
Sharp.
Urgent.
Zyren's expression changed instantly.
The warmth—if it could be called that—vanished.
Replaced by something colder.
More dangerous.
"They're coming," he said.
Ayla's stomach dropped.
"Who's 'they'?"
"People who will not hesitate to kill you."
"…great. Love that."
Before she could react—
His hand caught her wrist.
Cold.
Firm.
Electric.
Her breath hitched.
"Wait—"
The world moved.
Fast.
Too fast.
One second she was standing—
The next—
She was pressed against a wall inside a dark corridor, Zyren standing directly in front of her.
Close.
Too close.
Her brain stopped functioning.
Again.
"You're going to stay quiet," he murmured.
"I'm always quiet," she whispered back.
He raised an eyebrow.
"…that was a lie."
"Okay, rude."
Footsteps approached.
Voices grew louder.
Ayla's heart pounded.
She could feel it—
The danger.
Real now.
Not fictional.
Not safe.
Her fingers tightened slightly in his sleeve without thinking.
And for a split second—
His gaze dropped to it.
Something unreadable flashing in his eyes.
Then—
gone.
The guards passed.
Their voices fading.
Silence returned.
Ayla exhaled slowly.
"…I think I just experienced character development."
Zyren didn't move.
Didn't step back.
His gaze remained on her.
Focused.
Intent.
"You shouldn't be here," he said quietly.
Her chest tightened.
"I know."
"Humans don't survive in Velmora."
"Yeah, I figured that out when you said 'they'll kill you.' Very helpful, by the way."
A pause.
Then—
softer—
"Send me back."
The words felt heavier than she expected.
Because a part of her—
A very stupid part—
Didn't want to go.
Zyren studied her.
Carefully.
As if weighing something.
"You want to leave?"
"Yes," she said immediately.
Pause.
"…probably."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"You're uncertain."
"I just got here," she snapped. "Give me a minute to process my life falling apart."
Silence.
Then—
very quietly—
"You said you would tame me."
Her breath caught.
"…you remember that?"
"I remember everything."
Oh.
That was not good for her mental health.
Ayla forced a laugh.
"Okay, first of all—that was theoretical."
"Was it?"
He stepped closer.
Again.
And this time—
She didn't step back.
"I don't think you understand what you've done," he said softly.
Her heart raced.
"Enlighten me."
His gaze locked onto hers.
Unmoving.
Unyielding.
"You looked at a monster," he murmured, "and decided he could belong to you."
Her breath hitched.
"And now," he continued, voice dropping just slightly—
"You're in his world."
Silence.
Heavy.
Charged.
Her chest rose and fell unevenly.
"…okay," she whispered.
"…when you say it like that, it sounds bad."
For a moment—
Neither of them moved.
Then—
despite everything—
Ayla tilted her head slightly.
Studying him.
"You know," she said slowly, "this is not how I imagined our first meeting."
His expression didn't change.
"How did you imagine it?"
She smiled faintly.
"A little less… life-threatening."
Pause.
"…a little more romantic."
Silence.
Then—
so quiet she almost didn't hear it—
"Disappointing."
Her heart skipped.
"…excuse me?"
But he had already stepped back.
Distance returning.
Control returning.
"Come," he said.
Ayla blinked.
"Where?"
A shadow of something dangerous crossed his face.
"To the place where you either survive this world…"
He turned.
Walking ahead without checking if she'd follow.
"…or become part of it."
Ayla stood there for a second.
Processing.
Then—
"…yeah, no pressure."
And ran after him.
Because apparently—
Her survival instincts were broken.
And her love life?
Even worse.