Chapter 20 What Safety Costs
WHAT SAFETY COSTS
My gaze lifted slowly, almost reluctantly, as I looked at him properly for the first time. Although whatever I had been expecting, it hadn’t been the man sitting before me now. Because he wasn’t polished, and he certainly wasn’t refined.
However, what he was… was a beast of a man!
Nothing like the controlled, almost untouchable presence I had come to associate with men like Wye.
Or should I say Oblivion, as calling him by his shortened first name seemed far too intimate now.
As though I had lost my chance and my privilege to call him that, now that I knew for certain I wasn’t his Siren.
As for this Enforcer, he looked like something carved from violence and left standing. His build alone made that clear, broad shoulders, thick muscle layered over muscle. The kind of strength that didn’t come from careful training, but more from survival.
Dark ink crawled up both of his arms in intricate patterns, disappearing beneath the edge of his clothing, as if wrapping him in something that felt less like decoration and more like a mark of ownership.
His hair was dark brown, long enough to fall in loose, unruly waves, though one side of his head had been shaved back completely, exposing the sharp line of his skull… and the scars.
Three of them.
They cut across the side of his face and down into the exposed skin, jagged and uneven, like something had torn into him rather than sliced cleanly. Not neat, but brutal. The kind of marks that didn’t come from a blade, but from claws.
From something that had tried to take him apart and failed.
My stomach tightened at the sight of them, because they didn’t weaken him. If anything,… they made him worse.
His jaw was lined with a trimmed beard that tapered just enough to sharpen the angles of his face, drawing attention to the severity of it. And when my gaze finally reached his eyes… Holy Goddess and her panties!
That was where it hit the most.
Right there, in a pair of startling, light olive-green eyes.
There was nothing soft or warm about them, only something predatory in a way that made it feel as though he wasn’t just looking at me, but through me. As though he had already decided what I was worth, or should I say... whether I was worth keeping.
“Don’t stare,” Bo muttered under his breath beside me.
The quiet warning was firm enough to snap my brain back into place.
Unfortunately, it seemed too late because his gaze had already found mine, and he had caught me staring at his scars.
Which meant now I felt trapped by his stare, as he wasn’t looking at me with curiosity, or even interest, but with something far more dangerous. An unmistakable annoyance.
“If this is your idea of entertainment, Kiki, then I suggest you start reconsidering your life choices,” he said, his deep voice cutting through the space with a low, rough edge that carried far too easily over the noise around us.
Kiki, of course, looked entirely unbothered by this.
“Well, that depends,” he said smoothly, tilting his head as if weighing the moment like fine entertainment,
“Am I here to assist… or simply to appreciate whatever chaos you’re about to unleash?
” A few nearby heads turned at that, clearly curious about what was about to unfold before rethinking that choice.
Looking away again, as though no one here was quite foolish enough to linger on whatever mood their Lord currently found himself in.
As for Walder, he didn’t smile.
Didn’t even move.
But something in the set of his shoulders shifted slightly, the air around him tightening in a way that didn’t need to be explained to be understood.
“You’re testing my patience,” he said flatly, and I couldn’t help but shiver. My hands wrung the fabric of my hoodie as nervousness crept in and decided to stay for what felt like the foreseeable future.
“And we both know how that usually ends,” he added as a clear warning, one Kiki grinned at.
“We’re not here for this,” Bo cut in, his voice lower now, though there was a tension in it that hadn’t been there before. A tone that suggested even he knew this was not the time to be a smart ass.
“We’re here for sanctuary.”
That was enough to shift something. Not dramatically, and not in any way that would draw immediate attention, but enough for me to feel it all the same.
Because Walder’s focus moved from Kiki to Bo, before finally settling on me.
The weight of that gaze landed heavily, forcing my spine to straighten as though my body had reacted before my mind had time to catch up.
Some instinct deep within me already recognizing exactly what kind of man I was standing in front of.
“Sanctuary,” he repeated, the word rolling from him in a tone that wasn’t quite disbelief, but certainly wasn’t acceptance either. It felt more like he was testing it, turning it over, deciding whether it was even worth his time.
His gaze swept over me again, not lingering, just assessing, and somehow that made it worse. But then that sharp gaze turned back to Bo, his eyes narrowing dangerously.
“You brought a mortal into my domain,” he continued, his voice still low and controlled. As though there were something furious beneath it now and something far less patient.
“And you think breaking my rules is how you negotiate with me.” It wasn’t phrased as a question, but the warning behind it was unmistakable. However, Bo didn’t flinch, although I could feel the tension in him, regardless.
“Yes, especially when I have something you want… desperately,” Bo said, the weight of that last word enough to gain a different kind of attention from him.
Walder stilled slightly at that, his head tilting just enough to suggest something behind those olive-green eyes had shifted.
A flicker of interest replaced the irritation that had been there moments before, cutting through it cleanly.
“That so,” he replied, his voice quieter now, though somehow that only made it more dangerous. Especially when he said,
“I suggest you get to the part where I care.” This time, Bo didn’t hesitate.
His hand moved to his side, rolling his wrist around and summoning the relic to his hand like he had done in the bathroom.
The moment the mirror caught the light, the air around us seemed to change.
Even from where I stood, I felt it, that same strange pull and unnatural weight that seemed to hum beneath its surface as though it didn’t belong in this world any more than I did.
Walder went completely still.
The shift was immediate and impossible to miss. As if something had locked into place behind his expression, the irritation was gone in an instant, replaced by something far more focused, far more intent.
Kiki straightened slightly beside us, the playful ease in him faltering just enough to show that even he hadn’t expected this.
“Well, that’s certainly one way to get his attention,” Kiki murmured, softer now, his tone threading with something that almost sounded like surprise.
Walder rose then and stepped forward with purpose. His gaze did not leave the mirror as he moved, his focus absolute, as though the rest of the room had ceased to exist entirely. For a moment, he said nothing, and somehow that silence felt heavier than anything else.
Then, finally,
“The Mirror of Veritas,” he said quietly, not as a question or a guess, but with awed recognition. His eyes lifted sharply to Bo, the shift in focus cutting through the space between them.
“And should I ask how something like that came to be in your possession?” he asked, his voice dropping further, each word measured, as if he was holding himself back.
Bo’s jaw tightened slightly, but he didn’t back down, not even as Walder came to a stop right in front of him.
His intimidating height and size giving me more than enough cause to take a few steps back, something Kiki smirked at.
“I have my uses,” Bo replied, not quite answering the question, but not avoiding it either. Another pause followed, the kind that stretched just long enough to make it clear that everything hung on what came next.
Walder exhaled slowly, his gaze dropping once more to the mirror before returning to us, something calculated settling into his expression.
“Luckily for you, for the both of you, that what you hold there is something I have been searching for, for a very long time,” he said at last, his tone shifting to one far more accommodating.
My breath caught slightly at that, the weight of his words settling in just enough to make me realize how close we had come to this going very differently.
“You want sanctuary,” he continued, his gaze flicking briefly to me before returning to Bo,
“You have it.” The decision was immediate and completely without ceremony. Even I felt the shift in the air around us, the tension easing just enough to breathe again, as though something told me that didn’t mean we were safe, not really.
“Both of you,” he added, almost as an afterthought, though his eyes lingered on me just a fraction longer this time,
“And the human will remain under my protection while she is here,” he stated, and I got the distinct impression the words were meant more for those around us than for us.
The words should have felt like relief. And they did, if only for a second.
As my mind instantly went to Oblivion, questioning what would happen should he ever find out where I was hiding.
Walder’s gaze shifted again, not back to Bo this time, but to me, and there was something different in it now. As though I had now become a detail worth noting rather than dismissing.
“You look exhausted,” he said, his tone matter of fact, though not unkind. His attention flicked briefly over me in a way that made me suddenly aware of just how drained I felt. And then, just as quickly, that attention moved on.
“Kiki,” he added, without looking away from us,