Page 10 of Griffin

His eyes were wide with fear, his back against the wall, cornered. The figure in black stood a few feet away from him, blocking his escape.

“What do you want?” Michael’s voice trembled, barely keeping it together.

The man tilted his head slightly, his face hidden by some sort of mask that distorted his voice.

“I just want to talk to you,” he said, though the tone was anything but friendly.

Something in me snapped. I stepped forward, letting my presence be known.

“Hey, what’s going on here?” I demanded.

The masked figure froze, clearly startled by my sudden appearance. For a moment, no one moved.

Then, the guy in black muttered something under his breath and reached into his pocket.

There was a loud bang—a flash of light—and a plume of smoke erupted between us. A cheap smoke bomb.

Coughing through the acrid cloud, I pushed forward, but the guy was already gone, disappearing into the shadows like a ghost.

I cursed under my breath, fighting through the smoke until I reached Michael. He was trembling, pale as a sheet, eyes wide in shock.

“You okay?” I asked, my voice softer now, trying not to spook him any further.

Michael nodded, but it was a shaky, uncertain movement.

“I… I don’t know what just happened…”

I gently took his arm, leading him out of the alley and toward a nearby bench.

He practically collapsed onto it, his breaths coming fast and uneven.

I sat beside him, watching him closely, ready to jump in if he needed more help.

“He’s been following me… a stalker,” Michael muttered, his words tumbling out, barely coherent. “I don’t know… why…”

I frowned. The fear rolling off him was almost palpable, and my wolf growled protectively in the back of my mind.

“I’ll call you a cab,” I said, pulling out my phone.

Michael was quiet as we sat there waiting. His hands were trembling, his eyes staring off into space.

When the cab finally pulled up, I pointed it out and stood to open the door for him.

“Here’s your ride,” I said, but as I turned to leave, Michael’s hand shot out, grabbing mine.

His grip was tight, and a strange sensation shot up my arm at the touch. A spark—something electric.

He looked up at me, his eyes full of vulnerability.

“Can you… come with me?” His voice was small, fragile, and something inside me shifted.

Protective instincts flared stronger than ever.

I didn’t question it. After what he’d just been through, how could he trust anyone? But here he was, asking me to stay.

“Yeah, I’ll come with you,” I said softly, sliding into the cab beside him.

Michael mumbled the address of his hotel to the driver, and we fell into silence as the car pulled away from the park.

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