30. Talon

30

TALON

I stalk Lena across the college campus, keeping to the shadows as I observe her every move. The thrill of watching her pleasure herself with the image of my hard cock still lingers, stoking the flames of my twisted desire. My heart pounds with anticipation, knowing that soon, I will eliminate the obstacle standing in the way of our union.

As Lena enters the library, I quietly slip in behind her, blending seamlessly into the throngs of students. My eyes never leave her, memorizing her graceful movements and how the light plays across her features. She's utterly captivating, a delicate flower I long to possess and corrupt.

I follow her to the second floor, watching her settle into a quiet nook. Carefully, I position myself nearby, pretending to peruse the shelves with my hood hiding my face while keeping her firmly in sight. The knowledge that I hold such power over her, that I can manipulate and control her life, sends a jolt of exhilaration through me.

Lena appears focused on her studies, unaware of the predator lurking mere feet away. I allow myself a small, satisfied smile, reveling in my sense of control. Soon, I will move, eliminating the last obstacle standing in our way.

The thought of removing that pathetic excuse of a man from the equation fills me with a dark, primal excitement. He dares to touch what is mine, to taint the perfection of Lena Graves. I clench my fists, my knuckles turning white with the intensity of my grip. He will pay for his transgressions, for daring to lay a hand on what is rightfully mine.

As Lena packs up her belongings and heads for the exit, I trail behind her, keeping a safe distance. My eyes follow her every step, my mind already formulating the next phase of my plan.

I slink through the shadows of the campus quad, my gaze fixed solely on Lena's graceful form as she emerges from the library. The mere sight of her sets my blood aflame with an all-consuming desire that borders on madness.

However, the sudden appearance of that sniveling worm, David, shatters my possessive reverie. He strides toward Lena with an overconfident swagger, clutching a bouquet of cheap flowers that reek of desperation. My lip curls with disgust as he wraps his arms around her, planting a sloppy kiss on her cheek.

I bristle with barely contained fury, watching as Lena flinches ever so slightly at his touch. The motion is subtle, but it speaks volumes—that coward has dared to lay his hands on her in a way that has caused her distress. My fists clench at the mere thought, fighting the overwhelming urge to tear him limb from limb.

Lena forces a tight smile, her posture stiff and radiating discomfort as David loops his arm through hers, steering her across the quad. I follow at a discreet distance, my footsteps silent as a wraith, every fiber of my being attuned to the tension emanating from her rigid frame.

She doesn't want this. My Lena, trapped in the clutches of this pathetic excuse for a man, her light slowly being extinguished by his poisonous presence. Rage courses through my veins, scalding and all-consuming, as I vow to free her from his clutches, no matter the cost.

If that sniveling bastard has dared to harm a single hair on her head, he will suffer a fate worse than death itself. I will tear him apart, piece by agonizing piece, until he begs for the release of death. And when he finally draws his last, wheezing breath, I will cradle Lena in my arms and show her the depths of my devotion, love, and obsession.

I trail behind Lena and David, my eyes locked on their retreating forms. The urge to close the distance between us and rip him away from her is almost overwhelming, but I maintain my composure. Patience, I remind myself. The time will come.

They enter a small restaurant, the warm glow of the lights beckoning them inside. I pause, considering my next move. I can't simply barge in and create a scene—that would only alarm Lena and draw unwanted attention. No, I need to be more calculated and strategic.

Slipping into the shadows, I find a secluded table near the back, where I can observe them undetected. I am drawn to Lena as she hesitantly follows David to a cozy booth in the corner. She looks so small, so fragile, and my heart aches with the need to protect her.

David orders a bottle of wine, his arrogant grin making my blood boil. I watch as he pours Lena a generous glass, his hand lingering on hers for a moment too long. Lena flinches at the unwanted contact, and I must fight the urge to storm over and tear him away from her.

Forcing myself to remain calm, I observe as the evening progresses. David does most of the talking, his boisterous laughter grating on my nerves. On the other hand, Lena sits quietly, her eyes downcast as she sips her wine. I can see the tension in her shoulders, the way she shrinks into herself, desperately wishing to be anywhere but here.

The waiter arrives with their meals, and David immediately digs in, seemingly oblivious to Lena's discomfort. She picks at her food, her appetite clearly diminished by the oppressive atmosphere. I clench my jaw, my fingers itching to reach out and comfort her, to shield her from this nightmare.

As David leans in, his hand reaching across the table to grasp Lena's, I feel a surge of possessive rage. That should be my hand touching her, my fingers intertwined with hers.

Lena flinches away, her eyes wide with fear and revulsion.

Don't worry, princess. I'll free you soon enough.

I grip the table's edge, knuckles turning white as I watch David's hand snake across the table to grasp Lena's. She flinches away from his touch, her eyes sparking with a fear that sets my blood boiling. How dare he touch her like that! How dare he instill that look of terror in her beautiful eyes!

Forcing myself to remain still, to not storm over and rip his throat out right here and now, is one of the greatest challenges I've ever faced. But I know that if I act rashly if I reveal myself before the time is right, it could jeopardize everything. So, with a trembling breath, I tear my gaze away from the sickening sight before me and rise from my seat.

I can't stay here any longer, not without risking exposure. The need to act, to strike, to eliminate this pathetic excuse for a man is clawing at my insides like a rabid animal. If I remain, I may do something reckless that could compromise my carefully laid plans.

No, it's better to retreat, for now, to regroup and strategize. I slip out of the restaurant, my footsteps silent, and melt into the shadows of the night. The crisp evening air does little to cool the fire within me, but it provides clarity, allowing me to focus my thoughts.

As I move through the darkened streets, my mind races, formulating and discarding plans, weighing the risks and rewards of each potential course of action. I need to be smart about this and leave no stone unturned. David must be eliminated, that much is certain, but it needs to be done in a way that doesn't arouse suspicion, that doesn't lead back to me or Lena.

Perhaps a mugging gone wrong? No, too risky, too many variables that could unravel the whole operation. Maybe a tragic accident, a slip and fall that results in a fatal injury? But how to orchestrate such a thing without drawing unwanted attention?

The possibilities swirl through my mind like a tempest, each more twisted and intricate than the last. But through it all, one thought remains constant: Lena. She is the driving force behind every decision, every carefully calculated move.

As I retreat to the shadows, to the secluded sanctuary of my apartment where I can plan and strategize without interruption, I feel a renewed sense of determination coursing through my veins. David's days are numbered, and I will stop at nothing to ensure his permanent removal from Lena's life.

A twisted smile curves my lips as I envision our future, a dark and beautiful tapestry woven from the threads of my devotion. Yes, Lena Graves will be mine, and anyone foolish enough to stand in our way will suffer the consequences.

The game is afoot, and I am the master puppeteer, pulling the strings from the shadows. David's demise is inevitable, a mere formality in the grand scheme. All that remains is to decide how best to orchestrate his downfall.