Chapter 32 Chapter 32
⛧⛧⛧⛧⛧ Levi ⛧⛧⛧⛧⛧
I lingered, sitting in the shadowed corner at the bar, my demonic senses attuned to the chaos that had just unfolded. The bass thrummed through the floor, vibrating against my boots, but my sharp eyes tracked Apollo and Adrianna as they slipped out the side door. Apollo's arm was wrapped possessively around her waist, pulling her close, her body still trembling from the confrontation. My lips didn't move, but a quiet intensity narrowed my gaze. I could feel the raw edge of Apollo's fury lingering in the air like brimstone, a promise of violence that made my own instincts stir. Adrianna's soft curves pressed against the demon's side, her vulnerability a stark contrast to Apollo's coiled power. They vanished into the alley, and I turned, my focus shifting to Elena behind the bar, wiping down glasses with quick, attentive motions.
I moved closer, approached silently, my presence parting the small crowd that accumulated to watch the drama unfold without effort. Elena glanced up, her curious eyes meeting mine—human, yet sharp, intrigued by the otherworldly aura I exuded. My mind reached out, my voice projecting directly into her thoughts, smooth and resonant, bypassing the noise of the club entirely.
“Who was that screaming fool? The one they dragged out?”
Elena paused, her cloth stilling on the bar top. She tilted her head, a flicker of surprise crossing her face, but she answered aloud, her voice steady amid the pulsing music.
“That was Paul. He's the manager here—well he won’t be for much longer, I guess. Always had this unhealthy crush on Adrianna. Kept hovering, but last week, we were shopping and ran into him, she turned him down when he asked her out, and now he starts preaching about saving her soul from 'demonic influences.' Tonight he lost it, took his obsession to a whole new level, yelling about her and Apollo. Like you just saw, Hayden had to have security toss him out.”
I nodded once, my expression unchanging, but inside, satisfaction coiled tight. Paul's desperation reeked of weakness, the kind that begged for retribution. I projected again, my telepathic tone calm, laced with unyielding certainty.
“Well Adrianna and Apollo won't have to worry about him causing any more scenes. Neither will you.”
Elena's brows furrowed, setting the glass down with a soft clink. She leaned forward, her curiosity deepening, the club's humid air clinging to her skin.
“Why do you say that? Did Apollo tell you what he was gonna do?”
My eyes held hers, dark and knowing, the weight of ancient lore pressing in my mind. I didn't flinch, didn't blink.
“Demons will protect their soulmates fiercely. From what that idiot was yelling—about Adrianna taking a demon to her bed—this is already Paul’s second chance with him. He crossed a line tonight. He won't survive the night.”
She glanced around, as if expecting someone to overhear, then back at me, her pulse quickening visibly at her throat.
“Soulmates? You mean like... fated ones? I thought they were exaggerating things, like how people in love usually do. Hopefully this time he won’t leave a severed hand in her kitchen like he did last time.”
My thoughts flowed steadily, intimate in their directness, brushing her mind like a secret whisper.
“Yes, like fated ones. It's in our nature. We may have flings, raw fucks to sate the hunger, but we only love once. Demons guard their honor, but killing? That's reserved for threats to a soulmate. Paul's obsession has marked him for death the moment he screamed those insults.” I answered, “And I doubt he will leave another hand, but might leave a tongue.”
Elena bit her lip, her attentiveness sharpening, drawn into the forbidden pull of my words. The club swirled around us—bodies grinding on the dance floor, moans lost in the beat—but here, in this pocket of quiet, her interest burned hotter.
“Have you ever... protected yours like that? Gone that far?”
A shadow of solitude flickered in my chest, my lack of a bond a hollow ache amid eternal nights. I projected softly, the telepathy carrying a rare undercurrent of regret.
“No. I haven't. Because I've never had a soulmate to protect. Flings keep the body warm, my cock stays buried deep in willing flesh, but the soul? It stays untouched.”
She absorbed that, her eyes tracing the hard lines of my jaw, the way my shirt clung to his broad chest from the club's heat.
“How do you even know when you have met your fated one? Is there a sign?”
My gaze intensified, holding her captive without a word spoken aloud.
“It's simple. A test. You can only communicate telepathically with your soulmate. No one else hears it. The bond snaps into place—minds linking, desires shared in silence, unbreakable.”
Elena's eyes widened slowly, realization dawning as she replayed their exchange. Her mouth parted, glancing at my lips, still sealed, unmoving throughout. No breath, no vibration of voice—just her thoughts echoing with mine. A flush crept up her neck, mixing intrigue with a spark of something deeper, more primal. The air between us thickened, charged with unspoken possibilities, her body shifting subtly on the stool as if testing the invisible pull.
I watched her process it, my own hunger stirring faintly at her reaction—the way her breasts rose with quicker breaths, the subtle scent of her arousal mingling with the club's haze. But I held back, the conversation's weight lingering, promising more shadows to unravel. Paul's fate was sealed, Apollo's wrath a done deed, yet the night's desires pulsed on, waiting to ignite.