Page 53 of Thane's Demon
I tucked myself deeper into the alcove, crouching behind one of the oversized reference shelves. The footsteps grew louder, measured and steady, but then they stopped. I held my breath, feeling the seconds tick by as if I was expecting them to be my last. Laughter followed before fading away, telling me that it must have been other students.
Seconds merged into minutes, and soon I stopped counting, having no idea how long I was hiding here before suddenly a pair of boots appeared at the end of the narrow space. Thick, dark leather. Scuffed at the toe. Moving slowly, as if the man knew exactly what he was hunting.
My pulse thundered, and my hands shook. I forced myself to look around for something, anything I could use. My gaze caught on the spine of the largest book I could find, some massive encyclopedia on ancient weaponry. Let’s just say that the irony wasn’t lost on me. Not when it looked heavy enough to knock someone back if I swung with everything I had. I grabbed it with trembling hands, the weight of it grounding me even as terror tried to take over.
The boots stopped right before they rounded the shelf.
I surged forward.
I stepped from my hiding place with all the strength I could muster, lifting the book over my shoulder, ready to protect myself even if my arms shook from the effort. Without another thought, other than to protect myself, I swung the book downward in pure instinct and fear.
But before the blow could land, a strong hand caught it midair, fingers curling around the spine with effortless power. The momentum stopped so suddenly that the force jolted up myarm. My breath hitched as my eyes followed the line of that hand to the man behind it.
And there he was.
Thane.
His chest was rising and falling sharply. His eyes were bright, fierce, and burning with something I had no name for. Relief crashed through me with such force that it stole every thought from my mind. I dropped the book instantly and threw my arms around him, burying myself in the solid warmth of his body. I felt his hand come up around me, one arm tight against my back, the other cradling the back of my head with a tenderness that almost broke me.
“You’re safe, Alora,”he murmured into my hair, his voice rough with something between fury and relief. “I have you.”
I pulled back just enough to look up at him, my breath unsteady, my heart still racing. His eyes softened when they met mine, and something in my chest gave way completely.
I didn’t think.
I didn’t hesitate.
I didn’t question the danger or the consequences.
I just rose onto my toes, reached up, and…
Kissed him.
22
MORE THAN A MOMENT
The moment my lips touched his, the world stopped. It stopped in that strange suspended way where sound melted, and vision blurred, and everything inside me felt weightless for a single heartbeat. His mouth was warm against mine, his breath catching as if I had surprised not just him but something deeper. For the briefest second, I swore he leaned in, swore I felt the tiniest pull toward me. As if something inside him responded on instinct, something that matched the wild, trembling instinct inside me.
But just as the kiss began, it ended.
Thane pulled away with a sharp, almost violent inhale, his hands falling from my waist as if he had burned himself on my skin. His eyes snapped shut, his jaw clenched, and he took a single step back that felt like a cut straight through my chest. The air between us shifted, heavy and tense, charged with something I didn’t understand. He wouldn’t look at me. Wouldn’t even speak. He just stood there, breathing like he was fighting some unseen battle inside himself.
The rejection hit so fast it knocked the warmth from my face and replaced it with something cold and sinking. Shame roseup my throat like acid, scalding and humiliating. I stared at the floor because looking at him hurt. Looking at him made the foolishness of what I had done feel unbearable.
“I’m sorry,”I whispered, my voice strangled. “I shouldn’t have done that. I don’t know what came over me. It was stupid, and I was scared, and I acted without thinking. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“Alora,”he said, but his voice came out tight, strained, like he could barely force the word through his teeth.
I kept rambling anyway, trying to fill the space between us with anything that could take back what I had done.
“Please just forget it happened, I know you didn’t want that, I know I shouldn’t have, I am so sor…”
“Stop talking.”
The words were low and abrupt, not shouted, not cruel, but sharp enough that my breath caught. I flinched before I could stop myself. Of course, he noticed, and for the first time since stepping into the alcove, I saw how much pain sat behind his eyes. Not anger. Not rejection. Something else. Something tortured.
He took one step toward me.
