Sins Of Her Venom
Chapter 77: Hunted By Her Eyes

Chapter 77: Hunted By Her Eyes

-Glyndon Walton: ( Song of the Chapter: Hunted by Isabel LaRosa)

My pulse roared in my ears, drowning out the sound of the rain.

The figure stood at the entrance of the alley, completely still. Silent.

I was so dumb, why did I run in the opposite direction of the Chuch? I should have run back inside, the stalker would not have followed inside.

The darkness clung to them, the rain soaking their hooded form, but I could still feel their eyes on me. Unmoving. Calculating.

A predator waiting for its prey to make the wrong move.

I swallowed hard. My fingers curled into tight fists, nails biting into my palms.

"Who the fuck are you?" My voice was steady, but my body betrayed me, my chest rising and falling too quickly, my breath too uneven.

The figure didn’t respond.

I took a slow step back, my foot splashing in a puddle. I wasn’t cornered yet, but I didn’t have many options. The alley was narrow, walled off by damp brick on either side. No doors. No fire escapes low enough to reach.

I needed to think.

Another step back.

The figure moved.

Not forward. Not toward me.

But they lifted a hand—just slightly.

And pointed at me.

My stomach dropped.

Then—

They took a step forward.

I bolted.

I spun on my heel, sprinting toward the other side of the alley, searching for a way out. My boots slipped against the wet pavement, but I forced myself to keep going.

The rain blurred my vision, soaking my clothes, and freezing my skin.

I could hear them behind me.

Their footsteps were steady, not hurried, as if they knew—knew—I had nowhere to go.

I turned sharply, slipping into a side street. Another alley. It was risky, but it was the only option. I pushed forward, legs burning, breath ragged.

Then I saw it.

A road.

Dim streetlights flickered ahead, the first sign of life I’d seen in minutes.

I turned to the back to see if they are still after me, but I could not see anyone so I continued running.

I forced myself to run faster, the ache in my muscles screaming at me to slow down, but I couldn’t—I wouldn’t—

Then, suddenly—

A car.

Its headlights pierced through the darkness, blinding for a second before its tires screeched against the wet road, skidding to a sharp stop just a few feet away from me.

The driver’s door slammed open.

"Glyndon?!"

My breath hitched.

It was her.

Kathrine.

What is she doing here?

I didn’t hesitate—I jumped into the car, slamming the door shut just as Kathrine stepped on the gas. The tires screeched against the wet pavement before we sped down the road, rain hammering against the windshield.

My breath was ragged, my fingers trembling as I pulled the seatbelt across my body.

My heart was still racing, the image of that figure burned into my mind. The way they had just stood there, watching. The way they moved toward me—so slow, so confident.

Kathrine didn’t say anything at first, just kept her eyes on the road, gripping the wheel tightly. Her knuckles were pale from the force of it.

I turned to her, still trying to catch my breath. "Why aren’t you on your bike?" My voice came out hoarse.

Kathrine glanced at me, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "Do you think I’m stupid enough to ride my bike in the rain?"

For some reason, the way she said it made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. There was something off about her tone—something dark, something amused.

I swallowed, shaking off the feeling. "I—I had a stalker," I admitted, rubbing my arms as if that would somehow get rid of the cold that had settled into my bones. "Someone was following me after I left the church. They had pictures of us together."

Kathrine’s hands tightened on the wheel. The speed of the car slowed—just slightly—before she pulled over on the side of the empty road.

And locked the doors.

Click.

My stomach twisted.

Slowly, Kathrine turned in her seat to face me.

The amusement in her expression was gone.

She tilted her head slightly, watching me—studying me—with an intensity that made me feel like prey.

"Tell me, Glyndon," she murmured, her voice lower now, rougher. "What did this stalker look like?"

I hesitated. "I—I don’t know. It was too dark, and they had a hood on. But they were just standing there, watching me, like they were waiting for something. And then when I ran, they followed me."

Kathrine hummed as if considering something.

Then she leaned closer.

So close that I could feel her breath against my skin.

"So... were you scared?" she asked softly.

A chill ran down my spine.

My throat felt tight. "Of course I was scared."

She smiled.

Not a kind smile. Not a reassuring one.

Something about it made my body go rigid.

"Good," she whispered.

The air in the car changed—shifted into something heavy, something suffocating.

A sick feeling curled in my stomach as something clicked in my mind.

No.

No, no, no.

It couldn’t be.

My breath came out shaky. "Kathrine..." My voice was barely above a whisper. "It was you, wasn’t it?"

Kathrine didn’t answer.

She just sat there, watching me, her fingers slowly tapping against the steering wheel.

I felt like I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

She leaned in even closer, so close that our noses nearly brushed.

Then, in that same dark, amused voice, she murmured—

"You’ll always be watched, Glyndon."

My entire body froze.

Kathrine’s smirk deepened, her eyes glinting with something unreadable.

And suddenly, everything—the way she had just happened to be driving by, the way she reacted when I mentioned the stalker, the way she locked the doors—

It all made sense.

Kathrine was my stalker.

My blood ran cold.

I stared at Kathrine, my heart hammering so loudly in my chest that I swore she could hear it. She didn’t move, didn’t blink—just sat there, watching me with that same unreadable expression. Like she was enjoying this.

My fingers trembled as I reached for the door handle. Locked.

Of course.

Kathrine exhaled a quiet laugh, tilting her head. "Going somewhere?"

I forced my voice to stay steady. "Open the door."

She didn’t.

Instead, she dragged a finger along the steering wheel, slow, deliberate, like she had all the time in the world. Like she was savoring my reaction.

"You looked so cute back there," she mused, voice low, soft. Dangerous. "Running through the rain, all scared. I almost didn’t want to let you get away."

I gritted my teeth. "You were chasing me."

"Maybe I was watching you," she corrected. "Following. Making sure you got somewhere safe."

I swallowed hard. "That’s not what it felt like."

Kathrine smirked, her gaze flickering over my face. "No?"

My stomach twisted.

I should have been furious. I should have screamed at her, called her crazy, and told her to stay the hell away from me.

But I didn’t.

Because underneath all the fear, all the confusion...

Something in me liked this.

And I hated that.

I hated how my breath hitched when she leaned in, how my skin tingled when her fingers brushed against my wrist.

"Why?" I whispered.

Kathrine’s eyes darkened.

"You already know why."

I shook my head, my back pressing against the passenger door. "No, I don’t."

She hummed like she wasn’t convinced.

Then, without warning, she reached up—slow, deliberate—and tucked a strand of my wet hair behind my ear.

My entire body was locked up.

The way she did it, the way her fingertips barely skimmed my skin, was too gentle, too intimate for someone who had just admitted to stalking me.

She leaned in even closer, lips ghosting over my ear.

"You’re mine to play with," she whispered.

A shudder ran down my spine.

I hated how my pulse skipped, how heat coiled low in my stomach.

No, no, no. This isn’t happening.

I forced myself to glare at her. "I don’t belong to you. You said that to me, remember?"

Kathrine grinned. " I don’t belong to you. You don’t either, you wish you were though."

Something snapped in me.

I reached up and shoved at her chest, pushing her back into her seat. "You don’t get to do this, Kathrine! You don’t get to act like you have the right to stalk me. This is a crime!"

She just laughed, like I was amusing her.

I clenched my fists. "What is wrong with you?"

Kathrine sighed, running a hand through her damp hair. "A lot of things."

I stared at her, my breathing uneven. "Is this a joke to you?"

Her expression shifted.

Something darker settled in her gaze, something that sent another shiver down my spine.

She leaned in again—slow, predatory—her voice a whisper.

"I don’t joke."

I inhaled sharply.

Before I could respond before I could even process what she’d just said, she reached over, unlocked the doors, and sat back in her seat.

"You can go now," she murmured, turning her gaze toward the windshield as if she was suddenly bored of me.

Like she hadn’t just made my heart nearly beat out of my chest.

Like she hadn’t just shattered every bit of self-control I had.

I hesitated.

I should leave.

I should get out of this car and run as far away from her as possible.

But I didn’t.

Instead, I sat there, staring at her, feeling something I didn’t want to feel.

Possession.

Obsession.

Desire.

And the terrifying realization that no matter what I did, no matter how much I wanted to deny it—

Kathrine already had me.