I stood, the scrape of my chair loud in the room.
“She’s not safe.”
Wizard looked up at me, reading the decision already written all over my face.
“No, she’s not,” he agreed.
I walked out without another word.
Whatever she was mixed up in—and however deep it went—I was going to make sure she didn’t have to face any of it alone.
Not now. Not ever.
Elena Dane was under my protection.
Whether she knew it yet or not.
5
ELENA
At first, I half convinced myself the change in Reeve’s behavior after my shifts at Hellbound Studio was just a coincidence. But he’d waited near the door for me all week, then fallen into step beside me as I headed home like it was the most natural thing in the world. He even positioned himself just slightly between me and anyone else when the sidewalk narrowed, or a group passed too close.
He never told me why he suddenly decided to walk me home every night.
The lack of explanation was almost more disconcerting than the attention itself. I was hyperaware of his presence, but I tried to tell myself it was nothing. Maybe this was just how things worked here. Looking out for each other, making sure everyone got home safely.
Reeve managed the place. It made sense that he’d be protective and take that responsibility seriously.
I might have been reading too much into it because I wanted to.
The realization startled me because I’d never thought of myself as someone who craved attention. But from that first day,my reaction to Reeve had been anything but normal for me. And impossible to ignore.
As the evening wore on, I counted down the minutes. Clients filtered out one by one, the front door chiming softly each time it opened. Chairs were wiped down. Machines powered off. And I wondered if Reeve would wait for me again tonight. The thought made my pulse quicken.
Ink finished locking up and glanced my way. “I’m heading out. You good?”
“Yeah,” I replied, a little too quickly.
His gaze flicked briefly between Reeve and me. The corner of his mouth tipped up. Shrugging on his jacket as he headed toward the back exit, he added, “Don’t stay too late.”
Reeve shifted beside me. “You want to help me check stock before we head out?”
“Sure,” I answered, acutely aware that we were the only ones left at the studio.
He nodded and led the way toward the supply room. Shelves lined the walls, neatly organized, the space just wide enough for two people to work without getting in each other’s way. Or so I told myself.
His hand hovered near mine as he reached for a bottle of ink. Our fingers brushed, and a jolt of awareness ran down my arm.
I caught my breath, and silence stretched between us. I could hear his breathing now, slow and steady, and I became acutely aware of my own. Every small movement felt amplified.
I glanced up, only to find him already watching me. His gaze held mine longer than necessary, then flicked away again.
I wanted him to close the distance. Instead, he shifted back just enough to break the spell, though the air between us stayed charged. I remained where I was, my heart racing.
The anticipation lingered long after the moment passed. And I hoped it was only a matter of time before one of us crossed whatever line we were circling.
We finished the inventory in silence, our shoulders nearly brushing as we checked off the last items on the list. The tension hadn’t faded. It had only grown stronger.
