Eva didn't sleep. It wasn't fear that kept her awake—it was her mind. Lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling, she replayed everything over and over again: the storm, the pressure in the air, the way it had felt almost alive, and most of all… him. Luke Steele.
She turned to her side, pulling the blanket slightly closer. You're overthinking again, she told herself, but this time the thought didn't settle her. Overthinking didn't explain what she saw—a moving car stopping mid-motion, wind shifting like it was being controlled, a man standing in the middle of destruction like it couldn't touch him. That wasn't imagination. That was real.
A faint sound pulled her attention.
Tap.
Her eyes shifted toward the window.
Tap.
She sat up slowly. The rain had softened now, reduced to a light drizzle. The night was unusually quiet, the kind of silence that felt unnatural after chaos.
Tap.
Eva stood, her movements careful and controlled. Panic wasn't in her nature. If anything, she became sharper when something felt wrong. Step by step, she moved toward the window and pulled the curtain aside.
Nothing. Just the wet street reflecting dim light.
She frowned and turned away.
"Couldn't sleep?"
The voice was low, calm—and too close.
Eva spun around instantly, her body already reacting before her mind caught up.
Luke Steele stood inside her room.
For a split second, everything froze. The door was closed. The windows were locked. There had been no sound of entry. Yet he stood there like he had always been part of the room.
Her eyes narrowed. "How did you get in?"
Luke didn't answer immediately. His gaze moved over her, not casually, but with quiet calculation. "You saw me," he said instead.
"That doesn't answer my question."
A faint smirk touched his lips. "You're not scared."
"Should I be?"
He stepped closer, and the air shifted again. Eva felt it instantly—that same strange pressure, like the room itself was reacting to him.
"That depends," Luke said. "On how well you understand what's happening."
"Then explain it."
He studied her for a moment, his eyes sharp, almost unreadable. "You felt it, didn't you? The storm wasn't just weather."
Eva held his gaze. "Yes."
"And you felt something else."
That pull again. Her chest tightened slightly.
"What are you?" she asked.
"Someone who's been watching you for a while."
That made her pause—not out of fear, but interest mixed with caution. "Watching me? Why?"
"Because you're not normal either, Eva."
Her name on his lips felt too familiar. "You don't even know me."
"I know enough."
"And what exactly do you think you know?"
He stepped closer, close enough now that she could see the precision in every movement, the control in his expression. "That you felt the storm before it started. That you weren't just reacting—you were connected to it."
Her heart skipped once, but her face didn't show it. "You're making assumptions."
"No," he said calmly. "I'm confirming them."
Silence stretched between them, heavier now. Eva's mind worked quickly, analyzing every word. He wasn't guessing. He knew something.
"What do you want?" she asked.
"To see how far this goes."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one you need right now."
Eva stared at him, unimpressed. "I don't do vague."
A flicker of approval passed through his eyes. "Good. You'll need that."
Before she could respond, a sudden gust of wind slammed against the house. The window rattled violently. Both of them turned instinctively.
The air changed again—stronger, darker.
Luke's expression hardened. "It's starting again."
"What is?" Eva asked, though she already knew.
Outside, the wind rose rapidly, howling through the night. Rain returned, heavier, more aggressive than before. Eva moved closer to the window, her eyes scanning the darkness.
"This isn't normal weather," she said.
"No," Luke replied. "It's not."
She turned back to him. "Then what is it?"
He held her gaze, and for the first time there was no deflection in his eyes. "No one's supposed to know this yet."
"I'm not 'no one.'"
A brief pause. Then, quietly, "It's reacting. To you."
The words settled heavily between them.
"That doesn't make sense," Eva said.
"It will."
Another thunderclap shook the house.
"Eva!" Paris's voice called faintly from the other room.
Instinct took over immediately. Eva moved toward the door. "My sister."
Luke didn't stop her, but his voice followed, calm and certain. "This is bigger than you think, Eva."
She paused with her hand on the handle, then looked back at him. "I don't care how big it is. My family comes first."
And with that, she opened the door and stepped out, leaving him standing in the room.
Luke watched her go, a faint, knowing expression crossing his face. "Exactly," he murmured.
Outside, the storm roared louder.
And this time, it wasn't just beginning.
It was awakening.