Chapter 15 Erased #3
“Step away from her.”
Kian emerged from the shadows at the alley’s entrance.
Something about him was different. Not his appearance, that was the same: dark coat, shoulders rigid, eyes blazing with controlled rage.
But the energy around him felt darker, like the shadows themselves bent toward him, drawn by invisible strings.
The man holding me hesitated.
“I said,” Kian’s voice dropped into something colder. “Let. Her. Go.”
The grip on my wrist vanished. The men shifted, uncertain now, recognizing something I couldn’t see.
“This doesn’t concern you,” one of them said, voice wavering.
Kian moved forward with deliberate calm, rolling up his sleeves. “It concerned me the moment you touched her.”
The man’s face lit up with fear.
“Close your eyes, Melanie,” Kian said without looking at me.
I didn’t.
They moved first, drawing weapons. But Kian moved faster.
He flowed between them like water, every movement precise and lethal.
For a second, I forgot to be terrified. I was too busy watching him move.
One man lunged with a knife. Kian caught his wrist, twisted, and the blade clattered to the ground before the man even registered pain.
A strike to the throat, and he crumpled.
Two more rushed him. Kian dropped low, sweeping a leg in an arc so fast the air seemed to ripple. Both went down hard, skulls cracking against pavement.
The last man pulled a gun, aiming it at my head as if he was going to hold me hostage.
Kian’s hand shot out, and I could have sworn the shadows moved, solidifying into something almost tangible between the barrel and me.
The shot went wide, hitting the brick. Then Kian was on him, one hand at his throat, slamming him against the wall.
“Tell your master,” Kian hissed, “that she is under my protection. Touch her again, and there will be consequences. Understood?”
The man nodded frantically, eyes wide with genuine terror.
Kian released him. All four scrambled away, dragging their injured, leaving smears of blood on the pavement.
When they were gone, the alley fell silent except for my ragged breathing.
Kian turned to me, running a hand through his hair. His expression softened, but his eyes still carried that dangerous edge.
“I told you to close your eyes,” he murmured, shaking his head.
“Yeah, I didn’t do that,” I managed, my voice thin, chest constricting as I struggled to breathe. I fumbled in my bag for my inhaler with shaking hands. “Who are you, Bruce Lee?”
The corner of his mouth twitched, but he didn’t smile. “Are you hurt?”
I shook my head, unable to speak, taking a puff from my inhaler. My wrist throbbed where the man had grabbed me, but that wasn’t what had stolen my voice.
It was watching Kian move like violence was a language he’d been speaking for centuries, and four armed men were nothing more than an inconvenience.
“H-How did you find me?” I murmured.
“I’ve been keeping an eye on you,” he said simply.
My head snapped up. “You’ve been following me?”
“After the last attack, I wasn’t taking chances.” His voice was firm, unapologetic. “I knew you’d been digging into Ekklesia. So I was watching you.”
“That’s—” I stopped, because what was it? Creepy? Protective? Both? “You’re stalking me.”
“I’m keeping you alive.” He stepped closer, and I saw the fear beneath the anger. “Do you have any idea what they would have done if I hadn’t been here?”
I didn’t want to imagine being dragged into a van, taken somewhere no one would find me. I wanted to be angry. I wanted to yell at him for the invasion of privacy, for the secrets, and for everything he still wasn’t telling me.
But he’d just saved my life. Again.
And standing there in that alley, my wrist bruised and my lungs still struggling to find rhythm, I couldn’t summon the energy for righteous anger.
“Thank you,” I murmured.
Something in his expression cracked. “You don’t need to thank me.”
I looked at him. “You keep saving me. I’m still mad at you for hiding things, but right now, I’m just… I’m really glad you’re here.”
He offered his hand. “Come on. Let’s get you home.”
I stared at his hand.
I should have demanded answers, maybe should have run.
After all, I knew precious little about this man, and he was keeping secrets from me.
A sensation in my chest, like a rope going taut, nearly stole my breath, and I found myself slipping my hand into his anyway.
His fingers closed around mine, and the contact sent a current through me, steadying and electrifying all at once.
We walked out of the alley together, and he didn’t let go. His thumb brushed across my knuckles in slow, soothing circles, pulling me back from the edge of panic. I dared to glance back the way we had come. The shadows where Kian had emerged seemed darker than they should be.
Whoever Kian Ward was, he was more than he pretended to be. Whatever he was hiding, it was connected to everything else. But for now, with my hand in his and adrenaline screaming through my veins, I let the pull of him override everything else.