Flirting With the Dark, page 1
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
FLIRTING WITH THE DARK
First edition. January 17, 2026.
Copyright © 2026 Nichole Brown.
Written by Nichole Brown.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
For a heartbeat, there was nothing.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
**“The fissure isn’t a place,” Elias said softly.
1. “He wants your power.”
2. “He wants the bond.”
3. “Because he thinks... you are the one thing that can break me.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
The First Wave
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Inside the Fissure’s Threshold
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
The moment her light detonated, the threshold split.
The Vision of the Convergence
Rowan Falls
CHAPTER FORTY
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Rowan Awakens
Elias’s Transformation
Kael Realizes the Consequence
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
The Forest Has Changed
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Leaving the Convergence Forest
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
The Sanctuary Wakes
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
The Hunters Arrive
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
The Vision of Possible Futures
Back in the Ruins
CHAPTER FIFTY
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
Leaving the Ruins
The Realms Make a Move
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
The First Attack
The Real Assault Begins
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
Rowan’s First Real Strike
The Sentinel Wave Shifts
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
A Forbidden Power
But the Realms Aren’t Done
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
Elias Falls
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
CHAPTER SIXTY
CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR
CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE
CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX
CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE
CHAPTER SEVENTY
CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE
CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO
CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE
CHAPTER SEVENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER SEVENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER SEVENTY-SIX
CHAPTER SEVENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER SEVENTY-EIGHT
The Descent
CHAPTER SEVENTY-NINE
CHAPTER EIGHTY
CHAPTER ONE
The storm hit like a warning, but the man waiting in the alley felt like the real danger.
Rain slammed against Rowan Hale’s truck as she pulled into the back lot of the Ashwood Diner. Wind rocked the vehicle hard enough to make her question every decision that had brought her to this tiny, pine-choked town.
She could have stayed in the city.
She could have stayed anywhere.
But instead, she’d chosen a place where the locals barely made eye contact and the woods whispered at night.
Great job, Rowan. Excellent life choices.
She shoved her door open and stepped into the downpour. Cold water hit her like a slap, drenching her hair, her jacket, her resolve. She kept her head down, boots splashing through puddles as she jogged toward the diner’s back door—
—and froze.
A man leaned against the brick wall beneath the flickering security light.
Dark hood, broader shoulders than any stranger needed, and a posture too relaxed for someone standing in a storm like this.
He didn’t look up at first.
He just stood there, rain sliding down his jacket, like the weather hadn’t decided to murder everyone in town with wind.
When he lifted his head, his eyes locked on her with a sudden, sharp awareness that he stole the breath right out of her lungs.
Well, hello danger.
He pushed his hood back slowly, revealing rain-soaked hair and a smile that didn’t belong on a man lurking behind a diner in the middle of a thunderstorm.
“So,” he said, voice low and amused, “you’re new.”
Bold.
Confident.
Like he’d been expecting her.
Rowan raised a brow. “Is this the part where you tell me the town’s not safe for outsiders?”
A hint of a smirk ghosted across his lips. Not a friendly one. Not a cruel one. Something in between — like he enjoyed the way she talked back.
“I was going to ask why you’re out here alone,” he said, pushing off the wall with a slow, deliberate grace that spoke of someone who didn’t hurry for anything. “But the attitude’s a nice touch.”
Her pulse kicked. Great. Mysterious, gorgeous man with a personality. Exactly what she didn’t need.
“Maybe I like storms,” Rowan said lightly.
He took one step closer. Rain be damned, he moved like he owned the darkness around him.
“Storms are harmless,” he murmured. “Other things aren’t.”
“Like you?”
“Sweetheart,” he said, grin widening just enough to be dangerous, “if I were the thing you needed to worry about, you wouldn’t be standing here flirting with me.”
Flirting?
She opened her mouth to argue — then closed it, because he wasn’t wrong. Something about him pulled at her. Hard. Reckless. Like touching a match even though you can feel the heat.
“And you are...?” she asked.
“Elias.”
He said it was like a secret he was choosing to share.
Then, softer, more intimate than he had any right to be:
“And you’re Rowan.”
Her stomach dropped. She hadn’t told him her name.
Before she could demand how he knew it, the diner door slammed open behind her, spilling harsh fluorescent light into the storm.
She flinched, turning — only for a second.
When she looked back...
Elias was gone.
Not walking away.
Not ducking into the shadows.
Gone like the darkness had swallowed him whole.
But the heat of his attention clung to her skin, even as she stepped inside, dripping water across the diner floor.
She didn’t know who he was.
She didn’t know why he knew her name.
But Rowan Hale knew one thing for certain:
This town wasn’t safe
And neither was he.
And somehow, that made her want to know him even more.
The warmth inside the diner hit her like a wall. The scent of coffee, fried food, and lemon cleaner tangled in the air, almost strong enough to drown out the storm raging outside.
Almost.
Rowan ran a hand through her rain-soaked hair, trying to shake off the encounter — the way Elias had smiled, like he knew exactly how fast her heart was beating; the way he’d disappeared like he was made of smoke.
She shivered, but not from the cold.
“Rough night?”
Mara, the diner’s night-shift waitress, leaned against the counter. Fifty-something, sharp-eyed, cardigan heavy with the smell of cigarettes — she knew everything that happened in Ashwood Hollow. Everyone said so.
“More like weird,” Rowan admitted, sliding into a booth against the window. Rain hammered the glass beside her, streaking the world into a blur.
Mara snorted. “Welcome to the Hollow.”
Rowan set her elbows on the table and forced her breathing to slow.
“It’s just... someone was outside. A guy.”
Mara’s head snapped up
“Tall? Dark hair? Looks like trouble wearing a face?”
Rowan blinked. “...Yes.”
Mara’s lips pressed into a thin, grim line. “You didn’t talk to him, did you?”
Which was an answer in itself.
Mara muttered something under her breath — something that sounded suspiciously like idiot men — then grabbed a pot of coffee and marched over.
“Listen to me, honey,” she said, pouring Rowan a cup. “If a stranger like that starts paying attention to you around here, it’s not flattery. It’s a warning.”
Rowan raised a brow. “A warning against what?”
Mara looked at her for a long moment.
Then she glanced toward the window, toward the woods.
“Against staying.”
A cold prickle crawled beneath Rowan’s skin.
“Is he dangerous?”
Mara’s laugh held no humor. “Everything in this town is dangerous.”
Great. Just great.
Rowan wrapped her hands around the warm mug.
“He knew my name,” she admitted quietly.
Mara froze.
Actually froze.
Then her voice dropped to a whisper. “He spoke your name?”
Rowan swallowed. “Yes.”
The waitress stepped back like she’d been burned, shaking her head.
“That’s not normal. Not for him. And not for here.”
Before Rowan could respond, the lights flickered overhead. The storm cracked against the roof hard enough to rattle the window. The diner went quiet — every patron looking around with unease.
Mara muttered, “Not again,” and hurried off to check on the breaker.
Rowan stared at the window. Rain blurred everything outside except the flickering security light.
Something moved beyond it.
A shadow.
Tall.
Still.
Watching.
She held her breath.
Another flicker of lightning — and the shape vanished.
Her heart slammed against her ribs.
Okay. Enough. She needed to know what was going on. She slid out of the booth, grabbing her dripping jacket—
Someone stepped beside the table.
Rowan gasped.
Elias.
He stood there like he’d been carved straight out of the storm, water dripping from his hair, jacket darkened by rain, eyes locked on her with an intensity that made her legs threaten mutiny.
He wasn’t smiling now
He wasn’t flirting.
He looked... conflicted. Like he was fighting an urge he didn’t trust.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he said quietly.
Rowan’s pulse kicked hard. “Why not?”
Elias glanced around the diner, jaw tight, as though every person inside was a problem.
Then his gaze slid back to her — dark, unapologetic, a little possessive.
“Because I’m not the only thing in this town watching you.”
Her breath caught.
“And what are you?” she whispered.
His lips parted — not with a smile this time, but with something dangerous, something drawn tight with restraint.
“Someone who shouldn’t be this close to you... but is anyway.”
Lightning cracked again, shaking the windows.
Elias leaned in just slightly, enough for her to feel the heat rolling off him despite the cold rain still dripping from his clothes
“You’re not safe,” he murmured.
“But I can’t seem to walk away.”
Rowan swallowed hard. “Why me?”
His answer was barely a breath.
“Because the dark doesn’t flirt with everyone.”
Rowan’s breath tangled in her throat.
Elias stood too close. Not touching — but close enough that she felt the pull of him like gravity. Close enough that she noticed the subtle rise and fall of his chest, the tense line of his jaw, the storm still dripping from his hair.
Close enough that she couldn’t pretend he didn’t affect her.
“Elias,” she whispered, not sure if she meant it as a warning or an invitation.
His eyes flicked to her mouth — just for a second — before he looked away, stepping back like he’d forcibly pulled himself out of her orbit.
Not far.
Just out of reach.
“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he said, voice lower now, controlled. “But you need to be careful.”
“Of you?” she asked, because part of her wanted him to say yes.
A reckless, impossible part.
He gave a small, humorless laugh. “If you need to ask that... probably.”
Before she could respond, an enormous crash shook the diner.
Dishes rattled. Someone gasped.
Mara shouted from the kitchen, “Not again—!”
Rowan jumped to her feet. “What was that?”
The lights flickered violently. A few customers stood up, peering toward the windows. The storm poured down in relentless sheets, but for a moment — just a breath — Rowan thought she saw something moving between the trees.
Something low.
Quick.
Wrong.
Elias reacted before she even processed the thought.
His hand shot out, catching Rowan by the wrist, pulling her closer to him and away from the window.
“Don’t look,” he murmured
“But—”
His grip tightened — not painful, but firm. Protective.
A warning disguised as an instinct.
“Whatever you think you saw,” he said quietly, “you don’t want to see it twice.”
Rowan’s pulse pounded. “Tell me what’s going on.”
Elias exhaled slowly. The kind of breath a man gives when he’s fighting against himself.
“I can’t. Not here.”
“Then where?” she demanded, stepping closer. “You show up out of nowhere, tell me I’m not safe, vanish, reappear inside a locked diner, and expect me too just—”
“Rowan.”
Her name on his tongue cut her off instantly.
Not demanding.
Not gentle.
Just real.
Too real
“You don’t trust me,” he said. “You shouldn’t. But you need to listen to me tonight.”
“Why?” she pressed. “Why me? Why this place? Why do you—”
Her next word died on her lips because Elias suddenly froze.
Every muscle in his body went rigid.
His head turned slightly toward the front door.
His eyes sharpened with something darker than fear — something like detection.
Then he whispered, “It found you.”
Lightning exploded outside, flooding the diner with a flash of white.
A monstrous crack of thunder followed — shaking the walls hard enough to make several customers scream.
Mara burst out from the kitchen, panic in her eyes. “Everyone away from the windows!”
Elias grabbed Rowan’s jacket, thrusting it into her hands.
“You need to leave,” he said, voice urgent now. “Right now.”
“In this storm?” Rowan snapped. “Are you insane?”
“Probably,” he muttered. “But go anyway.”
Her heart plunged and kicked at once. “I’m not just walking out into—whatever that is—without a reason.”
Elias stepped closer. Too close. His voice dropped.
“Rowan... I’m the reason.”
Her lips parted.
“We shouldn’t have spoken tonight,” he continued. “We shouldn’t have crossed paths. And whatever’s out there now knows you’re connected to me.”
Connected.
The word struck her harder than the thunder.
“What does that even mean?” she whispered.
He hesitated — just long enough for her to see that the truth terrified him more than the storm.
But he didn’t answer it.
Instead, he gently pressed something into her palm.
A small, cold metal charm
A symbol she didn’t recognize — three crescent shapes interlocking.
“Keep this with you,” Elias said. “Don’t take it off. Don’t lose it. And don’t open your door for anyone until morning. Anyone.”
Her throat tightened. “Elias—”
Lightning exploded outside, flooding the diner with a flash of white.
A monstrous crack of thunder followed — shaking the walls hard enough to make several customers scream.
Mara burst out from the kitchen, panic in her eyes. “Everyone away from the windows!”
Elias grabbed Rowan’s jacket, thrusting it into her hands.
“You need to leave,” he said, voice urgent now. “Right now.”
“In this storm?” Rowan snapped. “Are you insane?”
“Probably,” he muttered. “But go anyway.”
Her heart plunged and kicked at once. “I’m not just walking out into—whatever that is—without a reason.”
Elias stepped closer. Too close. His voice dropped.
