Chapter 2
Rain-slicked streets glimmered under the streetlights as Liana stumbled behind Damian, her heart hammering. Her mind raced faster than her feet. Forty-eight hours. Forty-eight hours to survive. Every step felt like a countdown toward something deadly.
"Where are we going?" she demanded, her voice trembling-half from fear, half from anger.
Damian didn't answer immediately. His eyes scanned every shadow, every alleyway, every potential threat. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, commanding, and filled with unshakable authority.
"Somewhere safe... for now. But you need to keep moving."
She glared at him. "Safe? You barged into my home, scared me half to death, and now you're telling me you're taking me somewhere safe? I don't even know you!"
He smirked-a dangerous curve of his lips that made her stomach twist in ways she hated. "You think I asked to be polite? Survival doesn't wait for introductions, Liana."
Her pulse spiked as his hand brushed against hers-not gently, not caring about consent, but possessively, gripping just enough to guide her through the rain-soaked streets. The sensation ignited a fire she loathed, a heat that made her question herself.
They turned into a narrow alley. Shadows moved too quickly. Something metallic scraped against the wall-footsteps. Someone was following.
"Stay close," Damian commanded, his body pressing against hers for a brief moment, a protective barrier she couldn't escape.
"Close? I don't need" Her words cut off as a figure lunged from the shadows.
Damian's reflexes were instantaneous. One hand slammed the attacker into the brick wall. The figure crumpled, groaning, while Damian's other hand brushed Liana's back to steady her.
"You see?" His voice was harsh, low, and dominant. "I told you. They're everywhere."
Liana's chest heaved, her hands shaking. "You… you just hit him! Who are you?"
"Someone you're going to have to trust if you want to survive." His gaze held hers, sharp and magnetic. "And if you think I'm gentle… you're wrong. I do what's necessary."
Her knees weakened at the intensity of his words. She hated the way her body reacted, how every brush of his skin sent shivers through her. She hated it, but she couldn't stop it.
"Why me?" she whispered, her voice small against the storm. "Why is anyone even after me?"
Damian didn't answer immediately. Instead, he scanned the street, watching every shadow, every flicker of movement. Finally, he said, "Because of what you are. You can't hide it forever, and they know it. Only I can keep you alive while they come for you."
"Not human," she repeated under her breath, the memory of his words from the apartment chilling her. "What do you mean?"
His jaw tightened, eyes darkening. "You'll understand soon enough. Right now, survival comes first. Trust me."
"Trust you?" she spat, stepping back. "I don't even know you!"
He closed the distance in two strides, his hand curling around her elbow with unrelenting strength. "You will. Because you don't have a choice. Not if you want to live past the next forty-eight hours."
Her pulse raced, and somewhere deep inside, fear and heat mingled, confusing her senses. He was infuriating, possessive, and dominant in a way she hated but couldn't ignore.
Suddenly, more shadows appeared at the mouth of the alley-three figures moving fast, closing in.
"Run," Damian ordered, his voice sharp. His grip tightened, dragging her behind him as they ducked through a narrow exit.
Liana stumbled, trying to keep up, her wet hair plastered to her face. "I can't keep up! Let me go!"
"You won't survive alone," he snapped, spinning her to press her against his chest for a brief, protective moment before they dashed into another street.
Her breath hitched, heat and panic battling in her chest. Every step brought her closer to him, and she hated how the curve of his shoulder against hers made her pulse spike.
The hunters gained on them. Liana could hear them shouting, feel their intent, their energy. Her instincts screamed. Something inside her stirred-a strange, wild power she had tried to ignore all her life.
Without thinking, her hands flared with energy, almost like electricity. A shadow lurched too close, and it jerked backward as if an invisible force had thrown it. Damian glanced at her, his eyes narrowing-sharp and calculating.
"You have power," he said quietly, his voice low and dangerous. "I've been waiting for it to show. But control it. Don't let them see it fully. Not yet."
Her heart pounded. "What… what did I just..."
"No questions now. Survive first." His hand brushed her hair from her wet face, and though he had no right, the touch made her knees weaken. She hated that, too.
They rounded another corner, and a black SUV appeared at the end of the street. Damian yanked her behind him as bullets ricocheted off the wall.
"Get in!" he shouted.
She dove into the car, her heart hammering. Damian followed, pulling the door shut and then starting the engine. His eyes were dark, unreadable, but his hand rested on hers briefly-a possessive claim that made her shiver even as adrenaline surged.
"Forty-eight hours," he said, his voice steady.