Don’t Look Back
459 Words
Aria’s lungs forgot how to work.
The hallway outside the VIP level felt longer than it should, like the club had stretched itself just to keep her inside. The guard’s fingers a bit into her arm, dragging her backward while the music pounded on, uncaring.
“Let go,” she gasped.
“Wrong door,” he snapped, but his voice shook.
Because the man behind her, Voss, wasn’t walking anymore.
He was stalking.
Damon’s gaze didn’t leave Aria, not even when the vampire in the VIP room laughed softly, like this was entertainment. Damon’s jaw tightened, and something in his throat moved, an inhuman ripple of sound he swallowed down.
The guard hesitated. “Mr. Voss, I.”
“Hands,” Damon said quietly, “off her.”
It wasn’t a shout. It wasn’t a threat.
It was a law.
The guard released Aria like she’d turned to fire. She stumbled, catching herself against the wall. Damon was there before she could fall, one hand braced beside her head not touching her, but boxing the world away.
His scent hit her again. Wild. Clean. Predatory.
Aria forced herself to meet his eyes. “That man in there.”
“I know what he is,” Damon said.
The way he said it flat, controlled terrified her more than the vampire’s smile.
Aria swallowed hard. “Then why is he allowed to?”
“Because we’re not in a world where ‘allowed’ matters,” Damon cut in.
A beat.
Then his voice changed, not softer, but… carefully. Like he was choosing every word so he wouldn’t break something fragile.
“Listen to me, Aria. You saw something you were never meant to see.”
Her name on his tongue made her stomach drop. “How do you know me?”
Damon’s eyes flicked to the hospital band on her wrist, and for half a second, his expression looked like pain.
“You don’t have time,” he said. “You need to leave. Now.”
Aria’s hands curled into fists. “I came here because someone said my father didn’t die in an accident.”
Damon went very still.
The music thumped. The lights flashed. People laughed downstairs.
And in the middle of all that noise, Damon Voss looked at her like she’d just pressed a blade to his throat.
“Who told you that?” he asked.
Before she could answer, a voice drifted from the VIP room, smooth as spilled wine.
“Alpha,” the vampire purred. “If you won’t hand her over… I’ll simply take her.”
Damon’s pupils blew wide.
And Aria realized the worst part.
He wasn’t afraid of the vampire.
He was afraid of what he might become if the vampire tried.
- Writer
