Page 44 of No One’s Daughter

No other reason.

Davien appeared in the centre of the room in a rush of movement, his eyes blown wide, something dark and furious burning through them. I’d expected him to drag me out and into the streets.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he turned on the remaining patrons. It happened in seconds. Necks snapped with brutal precision, bodies hitting the floor almost in unison, the sound of it dull and final. He moved too fast to properly track, little more than a blur cutting through the dim light, efficient and merciless in a way that felt… personal.

Protective.

The realisation hit me then.

He wasn’t stopping me, he was finishing what I’d started.

Making sure nothing—and no one—came near me.

If I wasn’t so sure I was wrong, I would have thought he cared about me.

When it was done, he stood there, chest rising, once, twice, as his gaze swept over the scene until finally, it landed on me.

For that brief moment the air felt charged. He wasn’t looking at me like I was something that bothered him, like he hated me, but like I was something he treasured deeply. Like I was his and his alone.

“What the fuck happened? Did one of them touch you?” He practically growled. I’d never heard such a sound from him. It was primal, possessive. His eyes scanned every inch of me and I'd never felt so naked under his gaze.

“No,” I giggled, somewhat high from all the blood. Though his question quickly sobered me, and the spell instantly broke. I remembered their vile stares and words. They hadn’t touched me, that much was true, but only because I took away their ability to. Still, I didn’t want Davien to view me as vulnerable or worse as someone to pity so there was no reason to tell him what had happened while he was on the phone.

“Then why?” he asked, his attention already back to the mess we’d made.

“I wanted to,” I said with a small shrug. Not entirely a lie, I had wanted to end them before they could touch me. And I’d be lying if I claimed I hadn’t enjoyed it.

“For fucks sake, can’t you ever just do as you’re told.”

“Where’s the fun in that? Besides, you put the idea of drinking in my head.”

“Seriously?” he spat, the word sharp with something that bordered on disbelief. His gaze dragged over me, searching, and for a moment I couldn’t tell if what I saw there was understanding—or disgust. Then he turned away, knocking a row of spirit bottles from the shelves with a careless sweep of his arm, glass shattering against the floor.

I shrugged again, slower this time. “I was thirsty.”

“You're reckless,” he said, already moving back towards me, his grip firm as he caught my elbow and pulled me along. “It'll get you killed.”

He didn’t slow.

At the back of the bar, he crouched briefly, wrenching open a cabinet beneath the counter and yanking free the gas connector with a sharp twist. The faint hiss that followed was almost lost beneath the ringing still in my ears.

He grabbed a cloth from the side, shoved it into the open line, then reached for a lighter from his pocket.

It caught fast.

Flames licked up the bar, hungry and immediate, feeding on all the spilled alcohol and dry wood.

Davien straightened, his hand still locked around my arm as he pulled us back, his gaze fixed on the growing blaze, watching to make sure it took hold. The firelight reflected in his eyes, sharp and alive, the silver flecks there more noticeable than ever.

“Come on,” he said, turning away and dragging me with him.

“Stop manhandling me,” I hissed, wrenching slightly against his grip. “I’m not a fucking child.”

“Then stop acting like one.”

“Tell me then,” I shot back, forced to keep pace as he dragged me along, my feet hitting the ground a little harder than necessary. “What would you do if you were me and you were just trying to figure your life out, and out of every corner appears some creep or creature trying to either kill or kidnap you?”