Only I don’t think I can as much as it bothers me to admit that.
Instead, I step toward the door.
I want to tell myself it’s because she works for me. Works for Dyrk. Because she’s my responsibility while she remains under my roof. Because I allowed a predator to get too close to her in my establishment, and that’s a failure I don’t intend to repeat.
All of that is true.
The only problem is that it’s not the whole truth.
The club below is nearly empty now, the final patrons filtering out as staff begin the slow ritual of closing. I walk downthe stairs without ceremony, unnoticed as I always am when I want to be.
A familiar voice stops me.
“My King.”
I turn to find one of the waitresses standing near the bar. She’s beautiful in the way many of them are. Sharp eyes. Painted lips. Confidence practiced to perfection. She smiles like she already knows the answer to the question she’s about to ask.
“You’re heading out early,” she says, stepping closer. Her hand brushes my sleeve, intentional and unashamed. “I could help you unwind.”
Her gaze drops, lingers, promises things she knows I usually accept without hesitation.
If this were any other night, I would have.
Tonight, all I see is Cassia standing in my office, her brow furrowed as she looked at me like I was something more than a crown and a title.
“No,” I say.
The word surprises her.
“No?”
“I’ve got somewhere to be.”
Disappointment flashes across her face, quickly masked by practiced indifference. “Of course.”
She steps aside, wounded pride simmering beneath the surface of her fully made-up face.
I don’t look back. It’s not like I’m betrothed to anyone here. I made sure to let them all know not to get too close to me. Not to get attached. I don’t want to be responsible for anyone’s heart. Relationships are nothing more than a burden I don’t want any part of.
Outside, the night air is cool and damp, the city humming softly around me. I close my eyes and listen, reaching out with senses honed over centuries, searching for her. My prey.
There.
I move.
The world blurs, buildings stretching and snapping back into place as I cross blocks in seconds. I slow as I near her, slipping back into shadow before she can notice the shift in the air.
Cassia walks alone down the sidewalk, her coat pulled tight around her, her steps steady but cautious. She keeps her head up, eyes forward, alert without being paranoid.
She meant it when she said she could take care of herself.
That doesn’t mean she should have to.
I follow at a distance, as silently as I can be. She pauses at a crosswalk, and I stop with her, hidden behind a parked car. She glances over her shoulder once, frowning slightly.
She feels me.
The thought sends a spark of excitement through my veins. I want to laugh, but then she’d hear me. I bite at the corner of my lip to keep my reaction in check.
