Page 51 of Thane's Demon
The prickling at the back of my neck worsened.
I swallowed hard and forced myself to move again, joining a group of students headed toward the library, slipping into their orbit like an extra planet hoping no one noticed. I kept my steps measured, resisting the urge to look back every two seconds, but I couldn’t stop myself entirely. When I finally risked another glance, I saw him pushing off the lamppost and beginning to move. Slowly, and in the same direction I was going.
I quickened my pace, weaving deeper into campus, letting the buildings block the sight lines between us. My pulse hammered in my throat, the echo of that night in the alleyway rising up like smoke. For days now, I had felt watched, but that watcher had always been him.
Thane.
And that knowledge had given me comfort, even when I told myself it shouldn’t. But this man was different. Nothing was comforting about his presence. Nothing protective or familiar. Only the sharp, unsettling sense that he had a purpose for being here, and that purpose was tied to me.
My mind raced through explanations, wondering if he worked for my father. I wouldn’t have put it past him, not after what he said last night. I was desperate for something rational, something that didn’t involve danger or threats creeping into my life. Maybe he was a private security guard for the campus. Maybe he was lost. Maybe he was… No.
He was definitely following me.
The library loomed ahead, the tall glass doors reflecting the midday light. I darted inside, my breath catching as the warm quiet swallowed me, the familiar scent of old books greeting me like a friend I didn’t deserve. I stepped between the first row of tall shelves, my fingers grazing the spines of books as I moved, trying to steady my breathing.
You’re overreacting, I told myself. Stop panicking. Stop imagining things.
But then a faint shape darkened the glass outside, the silhouette of a man pausing just beyond the door before shifting to the side.
He hadn’t gone away.
He was waiting.
A shiver raced down my spine, and then, without meaning to, without even fully realizing I was doing it, I whispered under my breath,
“Thane…”
His name slipped out of me like a plea, like muscle memory, as if I knew instinctively where safety lived even when my mind told me I shouldn’t.
But he wasn’t here.
He wasn’t watching today.
He had messaged me that he couldn’t meet.
And for the first time since the night he saved me, I felt what it was like to face fear alone.
I closed my eyes for a moment, fighting the sudden urge to cry from the pressure squeezing around my heart. I needed to be rational. I needed to be strong. I needed to stop falling apart over a man who barely said more than a handful of words to me at a time.
But I couldn’t silence the terrifying truth rising through me like a tide.
I wanted him here.
I wanted him so badly that it scared me.
I went deeper into the library, seeking the safety of crowded spaces, hoping that daylight, walls, and other people would be enough. Because right now I couldn’t depend on Thane, not when he had his own life, not when he chose not to come today, not when my father’s words still echoed in my mind, reminding me of everything I had to lose.
And yet… as I walked further in, heart still racing, one thought looped through me with painful clarity.
I missed him.
I missed him more than I should.
And the worst part was…
I didn’t feel safe without him anymore. So, without talking myself out of it, I fished out my phone and in shaky hands, I decided to do what I promised to do. That if I ever I needed him, I would call…
Call for my hero to save me once more.
