The Silence Before the Storm

The Silence Before the Storm
Chapter 38:

Ivy’s POV

“You’re just going to leave?” The words slipped out before I could catch them.

Damian paused halfway to the door, for a second, his hand hovered near the knob, and then it dropped to his side. The storm outside was still raging, lightning streaking through the sky in bright, white flashes.

He turned back to me, warm flecks of brown dancing in his eyes, “If I stay, you won’t sleep.”

“You sound awfully sure of that,” I said, trying for sarcasm, but my voice came out softer than I meant.

He gave a tired smile, “I didn’t mean it in a bad way.”

“It’s fine. You're right anyway, I probably wouldn’t be able to sleep.” I said, hating that he was right. When did I become so dependent on him?

Something shifted in him, softened, but only slightly. “Then how about I stay,” He said, “Just until you fall asleep.” He added.

I hesitated, wanting to tell him not to bother, that I didn’t need a supernatural babysitter hovering over me. But my throat betrayed me with silence. I just nodded toward the couch.

“Fine. Stay. Sit there. And no pacing or growling or whatever wolf thing you do when you’re restless.”

He huffed out a laugh. “Yes, ma’am. Though I can't make any promises.”

He sank onto the couch. I tried to focus on shutting windows, drying the mugs, pretending the sound of water filling the sink drowned out his movements behind me, anything to keep my heart from reacting to the sight of him, wet hair falling over his forehead, shirt clinging to muscle, eyes tracking every movement I made like they couldn’t help themselves.

When I could no longer feel his eyes on me, I turned back and noticed he'd shrugged off his wet coat and was sitting at the far end of the couch, his head resting back and eyes closed.

For the first time, I noticed how exhausted he looked. His face seemed thinner in the light and he had small bags under his eyes.

“Damian?” I called quietly.

His eyes opened, amber flickering in the dim light. “Yeah?”

“Why me?”

He blinked. “What do you mean?”

I swallowed. “Of all the people in this city you could've been stuck with, why would someone like you be… fated to someone like me? A girl who can barely pay rent?”

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees as his gaze bored intensely into me. “Maybe because fate finally decided to do something right.”

Heat crept up my neck. I looked away quickly, muttering, “Smooth answer.”

“I think it's true though. I wouldn’t say it otherwise.”

I wasn’t sure what to do with that. My chest felt tight, my eyes suddenly too hot. “You shouldn’t say things like that.”

“Why?”

“Because it makes it harder to stay angry.”

He chuckled low in his throat. “Get some sleep, Ivy. You’re safe tonight.”

I wanted to tell him I didn’t believe in safety anymore. Instead, I lay down on the opposite end of the couch, pulling the throw over me, stubbornly facing the window instead of him. The rain outside had reduced to a drizzle. His breathing steadied behind me, deep and rhythmic. I told myself I wouldn’t drift off, but the warmth of the room, the exhaustion in my bones, and the faint scent of rain and cedar on him pulled me under.

Somewhere between one heartbeat and the next, my eyes grew heavy. The last thing I heard was Damian’s voice, low and rough, as he murmured, “I won’t let anything touch you.”

When I woke, sunlight was pushing weakly through the curtains. The air smelled faintly of coffee and rain, but the couch across from me was empty. Only a folded note sat on the coffee table.

‘Didn’t want to wake you. The guards will stay close. Lock the door. – D.’

I ran a hand through my tangled hair, muttering to the quiet room, “One night, my ass.”

After a quick shower, I threw on jeans and my worn jacket, slung my bag over my shoulder, and headed out. The air smelled of wet asphalt and freshly brewed coffee, ordinary, safe, maybe even boring. I clung to that illusion like armor.

At the subway station, I spotted a man standing by the newsstand, pretending to read. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and when our eyes met for a fraction of a second, I caught the unmistakable glint of gold in his irises.

I exhaled slowly. Probably someone from Damian’s ‘pack.’ Whoppee! I had my own personal stalker squad. Cue, eye roll.

Classes blurred together, history, then economics. My friends chatted around me about deadlines and their expensive dates and trips, the kind of small talk that used to make me wish I would melt into the ground. Now, I just smiled where I needed to, laughed when expected, and ignored the prickle on the back of my neck that said someone was still watching.

By four, I was behind the counter at the small coffee shop where I worked. The comforting hum of machines usually soothed me, but today the air felt thick. The same man from the subway, the one with the gold eyes, was lingering outside, pretending to scroll through his phone.

Mia, my coworker, nudged me. “Who’s the hottie doing surveillance out there? You get a new boyfriend and forget to share the tea?”

I snorted. “He’s… not my boyfriend. More like, an unwanted security detail.”

She grinned. “Kinky.”

I rolled my eyes, but my laugh was half-hearted.

The bell above the door jingled. I glanced up and greeted the next customer. 

It was a man. Tall. Pale skin. A dark coat that looked too thin for the weather. His eyes were an unnatural shade of silver, but it was still beautiful. And when he smiled, his face turned from gorgeous to angelic.

But still something about him seemed strange, though I couldn't quite put my finger on what. 

“I'll take a coffee,” he said softly. “Black.”

“Sure.” I turned to the machine, but the tiny hairs on my arms rose. His eyes on my skin felt creepy.

“Rough night?” he asked.

“Something like that,” I muttered, filling the cup.

“I bet huh,” What?