Ten
Zagan
I’m used to it by now. The stares, the slack jaws, the way people look at me like I’m something that crawled up from hell. Doesn’t bother me like it used to. Younger me would’ve taken one look at their faces and smashed them into the nearest wall just for looking my way. Now it’s just irritation.
That’s why I avoid public places unless I have to.
“You look absurd holding that,” Iblis taunts Eero.
“Fuck off,” Eero growls, adjusting the massive white teddy bear in his arms. “Agatha bought it, and I’m not throwing it out.”
Iblis smirks, nodding at Nico, who’s clutching five huge balloons. “Agatha got you too, huh?”
Nico just grits his teeth. I don’t get why the fuck they have come along. Hell, I don’t even know why I’m here. I know she’s alright. I know she’s woken up. So why the hell am I standing here, wasting my time?
Eero doesn’t bother to knock as he barges into her hospital room. Not that any of us have ever been known for our manners.
“How are you doing, sweetheart?”
I grit my teeth at the endearment, hating how my enforcer seems to have grown a soft spot for her.
“She’s doing good,” A small woman beside Ara answers for her.
I step in, keeping to the shadows like I always do. But somehow, she senses me. Just like she did every time I sat at the back of her lectures, watching her stumble through her words, her gaze occasionally snapping toward me with those irritated, curious glances.
Now, she doesn’t glance. She looks straight at Eero, then at the teddy bear he holds. And, she smiles.
It stops me cold.
That smile. Soft. Eyes crinkling. Innocent in a way that doesn’t belong in this godforsaken world. Certainly not here. Not with us. We don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve it. Even to look at. Something so soft cannot exist in our vicinity.
But there she is, beaming at us like we’re worthy. Like we wouldn’t snuff out that light with a flick of our wrist.
Then I see it—the faint red mark across her cheek—and something inside me snaps. My fists clench hard enough to hurt. I’d dig Leo out of his grave just to kill him again if it meant putting him through more agony.
The image of her dangling helplessly from his grip flashes in my mind. The way her small hands clutched me, trembling with fear, her voice cracking as she recounted what happened.
That damn voice.
That sound—it crawled under my skin. It wasn’t just fury it woke in me. It burrowed deep in my chest, warming something I thought never existed.
If I’d held on to my control a little longer, I would’ve dragged Leo to the slaughterhouse and made him bleed inch by inch.
But I didn’t.
I lost it. Completely.
And I’d lose it again without hesitation. The thought of any bastard breathing a second longer after laying a hand on her? Unforgivable.
She’s laughing silently, looking at Nico, hugging the damn teddy bear as if everything’s fine. As if she hasn’t been nearly killed.
A small presence beside me has me looking down at her sister. She’s smiling, cautious but still a smile.
“I’m Iyra, Ara’s sister.”
She doesn’t offer her hand. Good, because I don’t like touching people. She’s standing a bit too close, and the discomfort claws at me—though maybe it’s because of the crowd in the room.
“I can’t thank you enough for saving my sister, Mr. Devlin.”
I nod, eyes drifting back to Ara, who’s now accepting a fruit basket from Iblis. Nico stands there, looking awkward with the balloons. She reaches for them, but Nico just shakes his head. Since when did these fucker become…polite?
“You tie them to the bed, you blockhead,” Eero says, grabbing the balloons and securing them himself.
Nico smacks him on the back of the head and then retreats to the other side of the room. Ara’s laughter rings out, despite it being very soft, almost imperceptible, and tightens something in my chest.
“Are you interested in my sister, Mr. Devlin?” Iyra asks.
I respect the bluntness. I turn to look at her, noticing how different she is from Ara. Where Ara’s all softness, Iyra’s sharp edges. Small, but striking, but it’s Ara who pulls me in, her eyes that enticing shade of honey instead of just brown. Her mane, so thick and wild, hits me with an urge to wrap my hands in it and hold on tight as I push into her tight cunt.
“What if I am?” I murmur, looking back at Ara.
I know I can’t let someone like her into my life. She’s a distraction. But I’m curious to see what her sister will say, to find out why this would be so bad.
“Then I’d suggest you stay away.”
Of course.
“The demons in her past aren’t for the faint of heart.” She leaves me there with that and goes back to her sister.
Iblis and Nico are gone. Eero pushes up from the stool he is sitting on.
“Get well soon, sweetheart,” he says, giving her a soft smile I don’t like.
He nods at me before heading out. Ara types something on her phone and shows it to her sister. Iyra frowns, glances at me, and reluctantly leaves the room. Smart girl. She should be wary, leaving her sister in here alone with a man like me.
Ara nods at the chair Iyra just vacated, but I stay where I am.
Something inside me coils whenever she’s near. The voices in my head go quiet, even when she’s silent. Her mere presence is a balm I can’t explain, a peace I’ve never felt. And that peace—it’s dangerous. Addictive.
She types on her phone and holds it out for me to see.
Thank you for saving me, Mr. Devlin. For bringing me here and making sure Ivy was safe too.
I give her a nod, struggling against the urge to reach out and touch her. Just a simple touch to feel that softness under my fingers again. This is new. The fucking urge to touch a human is so foreign that I have no damned clue how to stomp on it.
May I see your hand for a second, please?
Please. It’s strange how alluring the word sounds from her. Makes me wonder how she’d sound begging me, desperate, pleading for release. The thought of making her wait, drawing out her pleasure until she thanks me for it, takes root and refuses to leave.
I frown, shaking off the ridiculous thoughts. But they come back the moment her soft fingers, roll up the sleeve of my shirt. She examines the faint, crescent-shaped marks she left, and her eyes fill with tears. Her hands are so gentle, her fingers brushing over my skin like she doesn’t want to hurt me.
It’s…unexpected. Not that she is capable of it, but no one ever gave a damn about hurting me
She dabs on some ointment she brings from her table, sniffing as a fat tear lands on my hand. Her pain, over a scratch I barely noticed, mesmerises me.
No one has ever cried for me—not even my own mother. Plenty have cried because of me, but not for me. And seeing her drop tears for me—it’s like a live wire sparking through my veins. I wonder how she’d react if she saw the scars that litter my body.
I want her tears. I want to be the reason behind them—tears of pleasure, of satisfaction, not pain or fear. The fear I saw in her eyes when I saved her—twisted something dark inside me, something that despises anyone putting fear in those beautiful eyes. Her laugh, that smile, her voice—I want those too.
And damn me, but I’m not ready to let that go. Even if I have to walk away from it, she’s clawed her way in.
She looks up at me, her eyes still wet, and I can’t resist anymore. I lean in, taking a deep breath of her scent—a warm mix of vanilla, hibiscus, and something uniquely hers. It floods my senses, shaking something primal loose inside me.
I want to consume her. Taste every inch and mark her.
I move closer, close enough that I could kiss her, but I stop short. Instead, I shift to her cheek, where those tears cling, and lick one away. Her essence tastes intoxicating, leaving me wondering how she’d taste in other places. It’s maddening, how this woman can unravel me.
She gasps at my touch, her lips parting, eyes darkening with a mix of surprise and desire. My hands clench at my sides, fighting for control. Just one look from her and I’m undone, struggling to remember why I can’t fall into this. But damn if it isn’t tempting to lose myself in her.
“That look,” I rasp, my voice low, “invites trouble, little siren.”
She shivers, her gaze dropping, and I have to fight the urge to pull her close, to watch her break apart for me. But I can’t. She doesn’t belong in my world.
I grit my teeth, taking a step back. She tries to hide the disappointment, but I catch it before she masks it away.
“Stay away from the monsters, Ara. Especially the ones who’ve had a taste.”