The hospital security office was eerily quiet at night, humming with low fluorescent light. Elisa sat stiffly in the hard plastic chair, fingers interlocked so tightly her knuckles ached. Her shirt was damp from the rain and her hair had fallen loose from its usual tight bun—disheveled, like her thoughts.
Across from her, a police officer typed at a frustratingly slow pace, asking the same questions she felt she had answered twice already.
"And you're certain you didn't recognize the men who attacked you?"
Elisa swallowed and nodded. "I told you—they were wearing masks. All black. One tall, one shorter."
The officer scribbled something down. "Any tattoos? Scars? Are you sure they didn't say anything that sounded familiar?"
A shiver ran through her, remembering the tall one's voice. It had been low—deliberately changed. But his parting words still clung to her skin like ice:
"Stop digging where you don't belong."
Her throat tightened. "No, nothing I could guess from."
The officer didn't look convinced, but he sighed, closing his notepad. "Okay. We'll comb through the camera footage."
She doubted they would find anything. They were professionals. They had followed her inside the hospital. They had escaped without a trace.
Her world wasn't just cracking now—it was being pried open violently.
The door swung wide, and the air in the room shifted sharply.
Damon walked in.
His presence erased everything else. A dark coat clung to his broad shoulders, rainwater streaming from his hair, eyes blazing like he had just stepped out of a war.
He saw her—truly saw her—and time seemed to fracture around them.
He crossed the distance in three long strides. "Are you hurt?"
His voice—quiet, dangerous. Like thunder with restraint.
Elisa shook her head, breath catching. "Just shaken."
He knelt in front of her, scanning for injuries anyway. His fingertips brushed her wrists, demandingly gentle.
"They laid a hand on you," he muttered. "I will find them."
His promise poured through her like molten steel. Since the moment they met, she'd sensed the darkness coiled inside him… but now she glimpsed what that darkness did when unleashed.
The officer cleared his throat. "Sir, who exactly are you?"
Damon didn't even spare him a glance. His voice was ice-sharp. "The man responsible for ensuring she never ends up in a hospital again."
Elisa's pulse jumped. Heat flushed her chest despite the cold room.
"Damon—"
"Don't argue," he cut in softly. "You're coming with me."
Her eyes widened. "I… what?"
"This hospital clearly can't protect you," he said, voice low but fierce. "Someone targeted you tonight. They will try again."
The logic pierced her immediate panic. She knew he was right.
But…
"You're a stranger," she forced out. "And—and I can't just go off with—"
His gaze softened, though his jaw remained locked in fury.
"A stranger wouldn't have taken two bullets for you," he reminded.
Her breath faltered. "That was different."
"No," he murmured. "It wasn't."
His hand lifted, not touching her, just hovering near her cheek—waiting for permission.
And the startling truth?
She wanted to lean into him.
"Miss Hart?" the officer interrupted stiffly. "We can assign a security escort—"
Damon turned his head with a slow, lethal precision. "Do you truly believe any of your officers are capable of protecting her from a paid hit squad?"
The room suffocated.
Hit squad.
Elisa's heart stuttered. "That's not confirmed."
"It is." Damon looked at her again. "They weren't amateurs. Everything—how they moved, how they disappeared—it was all drilled. Military or ex-military."
He shouldn't know that. A civilian couldn't just see that.
Her fingers dug into her knees. "Damon… who are you really?"
He blinked once.
"I already told you," he said quietly. "I'm the man who saves lives no one notices are in danger."
That didn't answer anything—and yet it answered everything.
The officer raised his hands in resignation. "If she chooses to leave, we can't legally stop her."
Elisa's mind spun. Everything in her life had been predictable until now. Safe. Boring. Controlled.
But safety hadn't saved her tonight.
Her eyes lifted to Damon's. "Where would you take me?"
"A secure location," he said. "One they cannot breach."
He paused, softer: "I will not leave your side."
Her heart did a small, traitorous leap.
She stood. "Okay."
Damon's expression flickered—like surprise threatened to crack through his control.
But he quickly masked it.
He placed a steadying hand at her back. Just that touch sent warmth surging inside her.
They stepped into the hallway, his body angled protectively around hers. He spoke without looking at her:
"From now on… you're not alone."
________________________________________
Seconds later — Outside
The rain had lightened, but the air was sharp and cold. Damon's black car sat under a street lamp—sleek, armored-looking even without confirmation of what it could really do.
"Get in," he instructed softly.
She slid into the passenger seat, breath hitching when he leaned over her to fasten the seatbelt. His chest brushed her arm—solid, warm—and she shut her eyes for a dangerous second.
He smelled like rain and something darker. Something expensive and forbidden.
Her nerves tangled.
He pulled back slowly. "You're trembling."
"I'm not," she lied.
His mouth curved slightly—almost knowing. "You don't have to hide anything from me."
She stared out the window. "I'm still processing what happened."
"You're allowed to fear what hunts you," he said. "But never fear me."
That made her chest tighten unbearably.
"No one has ever tried to kill me before," she whispered.
He gripped the steering wheel, knuckles whitening. "They won't get another chance."
________________________________________
Driving into the night
The city lights smeared across the glass, but Elisa kept looking at Damon. The way his eyes scanned every mirror. Every alley. Every rooftop. Hyper-aware. Hyper-capable.
This was a man who was always waiting for a fight.
Finally, she asked what had been haunting her. "How did you get there so fast? You were supposed to be resting."
He didn't look at her. "I wasn't resting. I was watching you."
Her heart stopped.
"You were… watching me?"
"I felt something was wrong." His jaw ticked. "I should have been faster."
She shook her head fiercely. "You saved my life. Don't—don't blame yourself for not being a superhero."
He slowed the car at a red light and turned to her fully—eyes raw with something she couldn't decipher.
"If anything happens to you… I would burn this world down."
Fire shot through her veins.
The light turned green, but he didn't move until a car behind them honked. Only then did he pull forward.
"Damon…" Her voice faltered with a emotion she barely understood.
"Don't," he said quietly. "I meant it."
________________________________________
Arrival — The Safehouse
They reached a building that didn't match his wealth. Not a mansion. Not a penthouse. It was an older structure hidden behind high walls and iron gate—anonymous and unassuming.
Which somehow made it feel more dangerous.
The gate unlocked automatically as they approached. Damon parked and circled around to open her door.
He offered his hand.
After a beat, she placed hers in his.
Warmth. Electricity.
Connection.
He led her inside, past reinforced doors, coded locks, and a long hallway lit by dim sconces. The main living area was surprisingly minimal—practical and guarded.
"This is where you'll stay," he said.
She blinked. "And you?"
He fired back instantly: "With you."
Her stomach dipped. "In this same house?"
He stepped closer—slow and deliberate. Until she had to tilt her chin up just to meet his gaze.
"In this same room," he corrected.
Her breath stuttered. He raised a hand, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear—his touch feather-light, reverent.
She felt it everywhere.
"I need to be close in case they come again," he said. "Every second matters."
Her pulse thudded. "Damon…"
This time, they were too close to think.
His fingertips trailed down her jaw—a silent confession. His eyes dropped to her lips for a fraction of a second before lifting back to her eyes.
"If you're uncomfortable," he murmured, "say the word. I will never cross a line you don't set."
God… how was that more seductive than him being forceful?
"I'm not uncomfortable," she whispered.
His breath hitched—almost imperceptibly. "Good."
________________________________________
The Storm Inside
Later, when she changed into the spare clothes he provided—soft cotton shirt and drawstring pants—she stood in the bathroom gripping the counter.
Her own reflection looked different.
Haunted. Alive. Terrified. Thrillingly aware of him.
She dried her hair and emerged to find Damon sitting on the edge of the bed, removing the last of his hospital bandages.
Fresh bruises marred his torso—dark, violent marks against perfect skin.
She gasped. "You shouldn't be moving like that!"
He looked up, half a smirk. "This? I've had worse."
"That's not the point!" She knelt beside him instinctively, checking the dressing. "Does this hurt?"
"Yes," he said simply.
She froze, meeting his eyes. "Then why aren't you resting?"
His gaze held hers—deep and unguarded.
"Because the only thing that matters to me right now… is you."
Something inside her broke open.
Slowly… carefully… she leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to one of the bruises.
His whole body went still.
"Elisa…" The warning in his voice was thin. Breaking.
She looked up. "You protect me constantly. Let me do something for you."
His control visibly frayed. A muscle in his jaw jumped.
"If you keep touching me like that," he murmured darkly, "I won't be able to stop."
Her heart raced. "Maybe I don't want you to."
The air cracked.
But instead of pulling her into him like she half-expected… he stood abruptly, turning away, fists clenched.
"You don't know what you're saying," he growled—like he was holding back a monster.
She rose slowly. "Then tell me."
Tell me who you are.
Tell me why you're doing this.
Tell me why it feels like we've met before destiny wrote our names.
He exhaled sharply. "I was trained to guard people… important people. People with powerful enemies."
"Like the men chasing me?"
His silence confirmed everything.
He turned back, eyes darker than midnight. "Elisa." Her name was a warning. "There are things about your past you do not remember. Things someone would kill to keep buried."
Her pulse crashed in her ears. "What kind of things?"
He stepped closer—close enough she felt every tremor of his restraint.
"That night you were attacked?" His voice dropped. "They weren't trying to abduct you."
Her skin went cold.
"They were trying to silence you."
"S-silence me? Why? I don't know anything!"
Damon framed her face with both hands—powerful and gentle at once.
"You don't know yet," he said. "But soon… you will."
Her heart thundered. "And when I do?"
His gaze locked on hers.
"I will already be there to protect you."
________________________________________
Cliffhanger Ending
Before she could speak again, a metallic bang echoed from the rooftop—
Then—
Lights out.
Complete darkness.
Elisa gasped, grabbing his arm. Damon pulled her behind him instantly—
His voice low, lethal:
"They found us."