That didn’t surprise me.
I felt it as much as I heard it, the subtle shift of intent before the movement itself. She turned sharply, retreating the way she had come, and the air around her tightened as my men stepped into her path. Two of them at first, blocking her escape rather than advancing.
She hesitated just long enough to weigh up her limited options as
words were exchanged, asking her if she was going somewhere. Something I thought was pretty fucking obvious, and I couldn’t understand why, but it grated on me to hear theway they mocked her urge to run. Something she decided to do regardless of the obstacles in front of her. Not exactly an escape attempt made with grace, but most definitely with urgency.
She bolted, a sudden burst of motion that sent chairs scraping across the floor as bodies shifted in surprise. A curse rang out, followed by the unmistakable flare of adrenaline, sharp enough that I could taste it on the air.
The girl then fought when she was caught, twisting instinctively, striking where she could rather than where she should. Panic leading her erratic actions. One of Torin’s men managed to get hold of her then, his grip bruising, careless in its strength, and I instantly wanted to rip the fucker's hand off!
But in the shadow of my rage, I also felt her reaction like a wire snapping taut. She did not freeze. She did not plead. She struck back without hesitation, landing the blow hard enough to make him release her with a roar of pain. Action enough to earn herself but a breath of space, one that was fleeting at best.
It was only then that the situation tipped fully against her, as more of my men emerged, closing in with the patience of predators who knew the outcome was already decided.
The next mistake came too soon for me to stop it.
The man she had struck recovered quicker than expected, rage flashing hot and unrestrained as he stepped back into her path. I sensed the lift of his arm before he completed the motion, the violent intent behind it was unmistakable.
I saw fucking red!
I did not move from my throne.
I did not need to.
Despite how much I wanted to. How much I wanted to feel his death at my hands. Wanted to feel his beating heart crushed in my palm for daring to try to hurt her. But I knew, had I done so, then her first sight of me would have been something straight out of her nightmares. It would have left an everlastingimpression that I might never have had the power to eradicate. She would have seen me as the monster I was, and not as the monster I intended to hide from her.
So instead, I administered my punishment without moving from my throne. This decisionoffered me two things. One, the swiftness of my violence and ensuring he never landed that blow, and the second, doing so under the guise of mercy, for I let the fucker live… for now.
Which meant that power answered my thoughts as it always did, swift and absolute. Bone and flesh folded inward with a sickening inevitability, crushed and drawn back as though reality itself had decided his hand no longer deserved its shape. The scream that followed tore through the club, violent and raw, silencing music and movement alike.
Everything stopped.
Fear surged outward in an uncontrollable wave. I felt her freeze as it washed over her, felt the horror take hold as she opened her eyes and took in the sight of him on his knees, clutching what remained of his mangled hand.
“No one…” I said calmly, before looking to Torin,
“…touches her.”My voice became a tone of law, and one my head of security knew to takevery fucking seriously.
The man was writhing in pain, his punishment far from complete, as I felt his hand begin to reform under the magic woven into my domain. Pain was a lesson best taught thoroughly, and he would know never to even look at this girl the wrong way again, let alone touch her. That was…if I let him live beyond this night.
As for the girl, she was now being led away from the man, guided rather than restrained now, as Torin silently made his orders. Not that he would have needed to, as it was clear to everyone in this room what could happen should someone be foolish enough to try to touch her.
As she passed the one who had tried to harm her, I caught the quiet words she breathed under her breath, barely more than a reflex.
“Dear Goddess.”
Now that was interesting, as the phrase struck deeper than it should have.
Not ‘Jesus Christ’. Not ‘oh God’.
But Dear Goddess.
It was a small thing. Inconsequential, perhaps. And yet it lodged itself in my thoughts, another thread added to the growing tapestry of questions surrounding her. Mortals did not often choose their oaths so carefully, especially not in moments of shock.
One of the men escorting her laughed softly at her words, muttering something about holiness having no place here. He certainly wasn’t wrong there, and my poor little wide-eyed doe was starting to understand that for herself.
And soon, she would understand so much more.
