Page 57 of Thane's Demon
She swallowed hard and looked up at me, confusion twisting in her eyes.
“Where? I can’t just disappear. My father will…”
“Your father will survive without you,” I said, and the bitterness in the words tasted like poison. “You're coming with me.”
Her breath caught. Her fingers curled tighter around mine. And this time, she didn’t look afraid. She looked relieved. I led her away from the campus, away from the danger, away from theeyes of the man who served Xue. My demon purred deep inside me, twisted with satisfaction and hunger.
‘Protect her.
Take her.
Keep her.’
I knew exactly where I had to take her. My apartment, where no one could find her. Because no one knew where I lived. So, right now, it was the only place I knew she would be safe. Where I would no longer have to lie to myself about wanting her.
We moved through shaded streets where the city shifted from the polished brightness of the university district into older, quieter lanes. She stayed close enough that her shoulder brushed mine every so often, sending jolts of heat racing across my skin. I felt her glance at me a few times, questions building behind her eyes, but I wasn’t ready to answer them.
Not yet. Not while Ren Qiang was now hunting her, a man who never failed a job, who disposed of witnesses with the same ease as most men breathed. A man whose loyalty to Xue was carved from blood rather than trust.
Only when we turned a corner and the campus was fully out of sight behind us did she finally speak, her voice soft and uncertain.
“Thane… are you sure this is safe?”
I looked down at her, at the way worry had carved a faint line between her brows, at the tremble she tried to hide in her breath. I reached up and brushed my thumb along the back of her hand, a touch meant to calm her even as my own hunger burned quietly beneath the surface.
“It is safer with me than anywhere else you could go,” I told her, the words quiet but absolute. “I will not let anything touch you. Not him.Not anyone.”
Her eyes softened, and something inside me ached with the force of the connection in that small look.
We kept walking.
The city felt different with her beside me, as if her presence smoothed the sharpest edges of a place that had never offered softness to anyone. People still turned when we passed, their gazes sliding away from mine, their steps shifting unconsciously to give us space due to my size.
I felt Alora notice it, saw the brief flicker of confusion cross her face before her grip on my hand tightened just a fraction. She didn’t ask why they reacted that way, didn’t question the fear I bred so effortlessly in others. Instead, she simply moved closer, as if her instinct was not to run from the darkness she sensed in me but to anchor herself to it.
‘Good girl.’
My demon whispered, its voice a low rumble that curled through my spine with possessive warmth. We kept walking, leaving behind the louder streets and drifting into the quieter parts of the city. Buildings rose taller here, blocking the fading sun.
Her steps grew slower, hesitation slipping between us each time the path narrowed or the shadows deepened, but she never let go of my hand, never pulled away. I could feel her questions simmering beneath her silence, but trust outweighed the fear on her face, and I felt something in my chest twist sharply at the sight.
By the time we neared the narrow alleyway that would eventually lead toward my side of the city, the world around us had grown almost unnaturally quiet. Even the hum of distant traffic felt muted, as though the city itself was holding its breath.
“Thane,” she murmured, the sound carrying fragile threads of uncertainty. “Is it much farther?”
“Not far,” I said, feeling the words settle heavy on my tongue. “Trust me.”
Her gaze lingered on mine for a long moment, searching for something I couldn’t name, before she nodded and stepped closer again. For a moment, the world felt impossibly small, the space around us tightening in a way I welcomed.
Until something changed.
A shift so subtle most people would never sense it. A break in the rhythm of the street behind us. A footfall half a second too late. A breath drawn to match ours rather than its own pattern.
The kind of mistake only someone trained to follow would make, meaning only one thing…
We were not alone.
24
