Dakza's Shadow – The first time she tries to hide behind him.
-
Dakza's Shadow
The neon sign above the "Void" flickered, casting rhythmic pulses of bruised purple and harsh white across the damp alleyway. Raeila had managed to twist out of Miller's grip, the sound of her cheap coat tearing echoing like a gunshot in the narrow space. She didn't run toward the main road where the police sirens wailed in the distance; she ran toward the darkness where Kai had vanished.
She was a ghost chasing a shadow.
Her lungs burned, the cold air scraping against her throat as she rounded the corner. She found him at the end of the cul-de-sac, standing before a heavy iron door with no handle and no window. He was waiting, his back to her, perfectly still.
"Kai!" she gasped, her voice raw.
He didn't turn. He didn't even stiffen. "You're making a lot of noise, Raeila."
His voice was a low, melodic rasp—the sound of velvet dragged over gravel. It was the first time he had spoken her name in weeks, and the sound of it made her knees tremble more than the men chasing her ever could.
Behind her, the heavy thud-thud-thud of work boots hit the pavement. Miller and his two shadows had rounded the corner. They stopped short when they saw Kai, their aggression curdling into a hesitant, twitchy fear. But there were three of them, and they were fueled by the humiliation of being brushed aside moments ago.
"Look, Dakza," Miller panted, wiping rain from his forehead. "We don't want no trouble with you. Just give us the girl. She's been teasing us all night. She's local property."
Raeila didn't think. She moved. She lunged forward and pressed herself against Kai's back, her small hands clutching the cold leather of his trench coat. She buried her face between his shoulder blades, her body shaking so violently she thought her bones might shatter. She was hiding in the eye of the storm, using the most dangerous man in the city as a human shield.
She could feel the heat radiating from him—a terrifying, volcanic warmth that contrasted with the icy rain. She expected him to shove her off, to throw her to the wolves, or to turn around and strike her for the insolence of touching him.
Instead, Kai did something worse. He remained completely passive.
"I don't own her," Kai said calmly, his voice vibrating through his back and into Raeila's forehead. "Do what you want."
"Kai, please," Raeila whispered into his coat, her fingers tightening until her nails threatened to puncture the leather. "They're going to kill me. They're going to..."
"Then you should have stayed home," he interrupted.
Miller took a tentative step forward, emboldened by Kai's indifference. A predatory grin stretched across his face. "You heard the man, Rae-Rae. He doesn't want you. Come to someone who does."
Miller reached out, his hand closing around Raeila's wrist to yank her away from Kai.
In that split second, the air in the alleyway seemed to vanish. Kai didn't turn around to protect her, but he shifted his weight. As Miller's hand passed Kai's arm to get to Raeila, Kai's hand shot out like a viper. He didn't grab Miller; he caught Miller's thumb and snapped it backward with a sickening pop.
Miller let out a guttural scream, dropping to his knees.
Kai finally turned, his movement so fast it was a blur. He didn't look at the screaming man on the ground. He looked down at Raeila, who was still huddled against the iron door, staring at him with wide, tear-filled eyes.
For the first time, he really looked at her. His eyes weren't filled with heroics or rage. They were filled with an icy, clinical disgust.
"You're getting blood on my coat," he remarked, glancing at the small cut on her lip that had smeared a tiny red streak onto his collar.
"Thank you," she breathed, her voice trembling. "Thank you, Kai."
"Don't thank me," he stepped into her personal space, looming over her until she was forced to lean back against the cold iron door. He placed a hand on the metal on either side of her head, pinning her in place. "I didn't do that for you. I did it because he touched me. People don't touch me, Raeila. That includes you."
He leaned down, his face inches from hers. She could see the flecks of gold in his dark irises—the beautiful, terrifying detail of her destruction.
"You think hiding in my shadow makes you safe?" he whispered, his breath ghosting over her lips. "It doesn't. It just means the person who eventually breaks you will be much, much worse than them."
He straightened up, the iron door behind her buzzing as an electronic lock engaged. He didn't offer her a hand. He didn't ask if she could walk. He simply stepped through the door as it swung open, leaving her alone in the alley with a wounded, humiliated Miller and a darkness that felt heavier than before.
Raeila slumped against the wall, sliding down until she hit the wet ground. She was terrified, she was bruised, and she was being hunted—but as she touched the spot on her lip where his coat had grazed her, she felt a sick, twisted thrill.
He had noticed the blood. He had looked at her.
She wasn't just noise anymore. She was a stain. And she would make sure she was a stain he could never wash off.