9
KYLO
E vie wasn’t where she was supposed to be tonight, safe in her princess palace. I tracked her by her scent all the way to her boyfriend’s estate.
I had half a mind to claim her in front of all of them. I wanted to force my blood down her delicate little throat so I would know where she was at all times.
And if that was my desire before I’d seen her hurry from the mansion, clearly shaken and disturbed, her blood drenched in fear, I was downright fucking wrathful now.
I watched as she threw up into a shrub, her small body trembling with terror. I had to squash the urge to hold her hair, to rub soothing circles on her back. Scenario after scenario ran through my mind, envisioning all the ways someone could have harmed her.
It had likely been her shitty, undeserving child of a boyfriend, who was, unsurprisingly, nowhere to be found.
If mistreating her wasn’t horrible enough, there was no damn excuse for allowing her to walk home alone at this hour. He was failing even the most basic tests of chivalry and competency, and in my world, those acts were punishable by death.
Cloaked in shadow and fuming, I had to force myself to stop imagining a scenario where I wasn’t here to protect her.
My eyes widened. The shrub in front of Evie started to shrivel and decay at a rapid pace.
While I was shocked by the sight, Evie appeared horrified, quickly turning and running. It was as though her magick had a mind of its own, and she was petrified by it.
Who was this strange little creature full of mysteries and secrets?
She was clearly not a green witch. That much was apparent.
She also belonged to no coven, with no one around to help with her powers, whatever they may be. Where had she come from? Why was she surrounded by humans?
I followed her carefully. Her blood was so fearful that it had my cock hardened and alert, my fangs throbbing in my gums.
It didn’t help matters that I was hunting her like a wolf chasing a vulnerably unaware rabbit.
The moon was bright and half-full in the sky, giving her hair a silvery and luminous sheen. She was a mythological temptress dressed in blush satin and tulle, offering merely a tease of her sinful curves.
She was so fucking pretty. How any man saw her looking like this and let her out of his sight was a baffling, nonsensical notion.
Yet, I was grateful for it. Because I didn’t want my perfect angel anywhere near another man.
Evie stopped running when she reached the steep path up to her estate. Her breathing was heavy, fear still a steady pulse in her fluttering mortal heart.
For a moment, she just stood there, staring up at the looming two-story home. She hesitated. Then, she swayed.
A whispered curse escaped my lips.
I had two seconds to decide whether to catch Evie before she collapsed to the cobblestone and cracked open her skull.
My shadow glamour evaporated. In a rush of vampire speed, I scooped her into my arms as she fell.
Her eyes fluttered rapidly beneath her eyelids. Her soft pink lips tugged down, and her face went slack.
She was so warm in my arms. Her addictive, sweet scent overwhelmed my senses. I had to force myself to stop staring at her delicate features, almost in disbelief that someone this perfect existed.
This fallen angel was severing every last thread of my restraint.
She had no idea the monster she’d ensnared. This precious girl had not a clue the lengths her hunter would go to get exactly what he wanted.
I was a man of obsessions and fixations. I exerted control with ease. I did not hesitate, and I felt no remorse for the atrocities I committed for the greater good.
I brushed a stray strand of silvery blond from her cheek, my fingertips trailing along her smooth skin.
Snapping out of my stunned stupor, I held Evie tight to my chest as I carried her to the cottage.
When I set her down in the grass just before the porch, with extreme care and gentleness, she didn’t stir. It was nearly concerning.
I fished for the key under a small flower pot by the door, where I’d seen her retrieve it before. After pushing the door open, I scooped her back into my arms and carried her to her bedroom. Her breathing was slow and measured. When I laid her down and pulled the covers up around her, she let out the cutest, breathiest moan that did ungodly things to my body.
I was rigid as I stared down at her, my jaw clenched tight. I wanted to touch her. My disobedient shadows escaped my skin, crawling all over her body above the covers in tendrils of smoke.
It took immeasurable effort to pull them back.
I stood there, watching her, for far too long. My bullshit justification was that I needed to make sure she was medically safe, but I could hear the steady, normal cadence of her heart and the gentle pump of blood. I knew she was fine.
I closed my eyes and shook my head, slowly backing away from her.
“Mama,” she whined, the sound of her voice jolting me as if it were a strike of lightning.
I halted by the door, holding my breath.
“Hurts,” she whimpered. “ Mama .”
My heart cracked at the desperation in her voice. The raw pain. The steady course of fear in her blood that didn’t stop even in her sleep.
“Just a… baby. Child. So small. Hurts,” she mumbled, her speech fragmented and hard to discern.
My voyeurism was suddenly far too intrusive. This felt wrong. I shouldn’t have been bearing witness to this state of raw vulnerability, the deep pain of a wounded subconscious.
Yet something about her childlike vulnerability triggered the deepest, darkest need to protect her. To take all her pain away and make sure no one ever harmed her again. To destroy all those who had ever hurt her, to make them suffer brutally, mercilessly.
It was perverse, this compulsion to mark and claim her, to spoil and care for her, to shield her from all darkness and violence.
When I was the most violent and dark being there was.
“Please,” she begged.
A low growl built in my chest. Whoever had denied her pleas and harmed her had performed an act of depravity against humanity itself.
I forced myself to leave before I lost control and did something I couldn’t take back.
One day, I would hold her while she slept. My shadows would coil around her small body and drive away all nightmares. I would be the only monster allowed to haunt her dreams.
The next time I touched her, she’d be conscious and aware of every second of it.