The Letter
The city was a living tempest.
Rain battered against rooftops and spilled in torrents across the streets, neon lights bleeding into fractured colors through the downpour. Cars hissed past, their headlights blinding in the storm, and thunder cracked overhead as though the heavens themselves were tearing apart.
Elara gripped her coat tighter, every step echoing her desperation. The letter pressed against her ribs like a brand. Even through the storm, she could feel its weight—the words that had sent her running, the words that promised her life would never be hers again.
"We know where you are. You cannot run forever."
She stumbled into the glow of a streetlamp, chest heaving, strands of soaked chestnut hair sticking to her cheeks. Her almond-shaped eyes flicked over her shoulder, wide and frantic. For a moment, all she saw was the emptiness of the storm.
But then—
A shadow.
It flickered at the far edge of the alley, tall, deliberate, moving in perfect sync with her.
Elara froze, blood chilling in her veins. Her lips parted, a fogged breath escaping into the rain.
No. She was imagining it. The storm was playing tricks.
But when she took another step, so did the shadow.
Her stomach clenched. Panic burned in her throat. She broke into a run.
The city blurred around her—flooded streets, flickering neon signs, broken glass glistening under the lamplight. Her heels slapped the pavement, her breath ragged. The storm drowned every sound but her own heartbeat hammering in her ears.
Until—
A hand shot out of the darkness.
She gasped, a scream ripping from her throat, but before she could react, she was pulled sharply to the side, her back colliding against a solid wall of heat and strength.
Her first instinct was to fight. Her nails curled, ready to claw, her knee jerked upward to strike—
But then her senses collided with him.
The broad chest pressed against her spine, rising and falling in steady rhythm. The scent of rain-soaked leather and smoke enveloped her. A hand—large, veined, strong—covered her mouth, silencing her scream.
"Quiet," Kael's voice growled against her ear, low and commanding, vibrating down her spine.
Elara's body went rigid. Her lashes fluttered as she tilted her head slightly, just enough to catch the steel-gray blaze of his eyes, inches from hers.
He was soaked, water dripping from his raven hair onto his sharp jawline, down the column of his throat, disappearing beneath the cling of his black shirt. The fabric molded to his torso, outlining every muscle, every defined ridge of his body. His grip was firm but careful, holding her as though she was both fragile and dangerous.
She should've felt fury. Terror. But her pulse betrayed her, quickening, beating wildly against his palm.
Kael's jaw tensed. His voice was a hushed growl. "They're watching you."
Elara's brows knitted, confusion flashing through her wide eyes.
He slowly lowered his hand from her lips, though his body remained pressed against hers, shielding her completely from view. His gray eyes flicked toward the alley—sharp, predatory, scanning the shadows like a wolf catching scent of blood.
And then she saw it.
A figure, cloaked in black, standing just beyond the streetlamp's glow. Motionless. Watching.
Her stomach dropped. "No…" she whispered.
Kael's head tilted, lips curling into a dangerous half-smile that never reached his eyes. "Now you believe me."
The shadow shifted, stepping forward. Lightning ripped the sky open, illuminating a glint of metal in the stranger's hand.
A knife.
Elara's breath hitched. She clutched Kael's sleeve instinctively, her fingers trembling against the soaked fabric stretched tight over his arm. The muscles beneath her touch flexed—solid, unyielding, carved with power.
Kael's gaze flicked to her, brief but devastatingly intense. "Stay behind me."
Before she could argue, he moved.
The shadow lunged.
Kael surged forward like the storm itself, his movements fluid, lethal. Rain exploded around him as he collided with the attacker, the crack of impact echoing through the alley. Elara stumbled back, her wide eyes fixed on the blur of violence unfolding before her.
Kael's hand clamped around the man's wrist, twisting until the knife clattered to the ground. The attacker grunted, but Kael's other fist slammed into his ribs with brutal precision, sending him crashing against the brick wall.
Lightning flashed again—Elara caught it then, the terrifying beauty of him in motion. His soaked shirt clung to his frame, muscles tightening with every strike, veins bulging along his arms as raw strength radiated from him. His expression was merciless, jaw clenched, eyes blazing like steel set aflame.
The fight lasted seconds. The storm dragged it into eternity.
Finally, Kael slammed the attacker to the ground, his knee pressing into the man's chest, one hand gripping his throat with terrifying restraint. The man gasped for breath, clawing at Kael's wrist, but Kael leaned close, his voice a deadly whisper drowned by the rain.
"Tell them she's not theirs to take."
The man coughed, eyes bulging, then went limp under Kael's grip. Kael released him, letting the attacker crumple unconscious into the flood of rainwater.
Elara's back pressed to the wall, chest heaving, her hand trembling against her lips. She couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't tear her gaze away from him.
Kael rose to his full height, towering, his chest rising and falling heavily. Rain cascaded down the ridges of his muscles, his soaked clothes clinging like a second skin. His storm-gray eyes locked onto hers again—fierce, wild, protective.
He stepped toward her, each movement slow, deliberate, dangerous.
Elara's breath hitched. Her heart pounded so violently she thought it might burst.
"You see now," he said, voice deep and ragged, thunder rolling in his tone. "You can't run from this. And you can't run from me."
Her lips parted, but no sound came out.
Because in that moment, with his body radiating heat against the cold storm, his power still thrumming in the air, and those impossible eyes searing into her soul—
Elara realized the most terrifying truth of all.
She didn't want to run.
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