Chapter five: Her name
1257 Words
Myla’s POV
Slamming the door as hard as I could, I sank onto my bed. My heart was racing, my breath uneven and shaky.
Only one thought ran through my mind.
What the hell just happened?
I grabbed a small pocket mirror from my bag. I needed to see it.
“f**k,” I cursed under my breath when my eyes landed on the spot.
Did he… mark me?
I pinched the skin. It wasn’t painful.
Touching it again—softer this time—sent jolts of electricity buzzing through my body. A moan slipped past my lips before I slapped a hand over my mouth, mortified.
Embarrassed. Worried. But mostly embarrassed.
What did this mean?
He hadn’t even said anything tangible to me.
I had no idea what this mark meant.
What would it do to me? Did he poison my blood?
I hadn’t waited to ask. The second it happened, I bolted.
And I couldn’t tell anyone—not Hailey, she wouldn’t understand. Not Aunt Alice, she’d freak out.
I tried to push it out of my mind, but it lingered like a stain I couldn’t scrub clean.
Maybe a drink would help.
I wasn’t a huge fan of alcohol, but sometimes a girl needed to clear her head.
I showered quickly, changed into fresh clothes, and less than an hour later I was at the neighborhood bar.
It was high-class, way above my budget—but I had my tricks. Coupons. Their website always had giveaways, and I knew how to win.
“What’ll it be?” the bartender asked flatly. He never liked me, probably because I never paid full price. Every time I walked in, they lost money.
“Just a few shots of tequila. Nothing fancy,” I smiled, sliding him the coupon.
The coupon only covered that—otherwise, I’d be sipping a martini. Or maybe a s*x on the Beach. Or—
“Here.” He shoved the drink at me, snapping me out of my thoughts.
******
Kyle’s POV
I stared blankly into space, still trying to process my luck. I’d searched for her for so long, and now that I’d found her… she didn’t want me.
For the first time in my life, the thought of rejection scared me more than any battlefield.
“His Erasthai doesn’t like him?” Lily—my cousin Vincenzo’s Erasthai—howled with laughter.
“Turned him down flat,” Dante, my best friend, snorted, making the others chuckle.
“Okay, can you guys stop?” I frowned.
“Sorry, dude, but we’re just wondering—your charms didn’t work on her?” Vincenzo smirked, and I punched his arm.
“A girl who doesn’t find you charming? I love her already,” Ciara—Matteo’s Erasthai—chipped in.
“Why are you even in this conversation? Don’t you have something to brood over?” I shot back, and she scowled. She was always the brooding one.
“You know, man,” Matteo laughed, “if anyone had told me you’d be stressed over a girl, I’d have punched them in the gut.”
“She’s… a lot of work, man.” I exhaled.
“I’m genuinely surprised. Judging by your history, I never thought any woman could resist you.” His tone was serious this time.
“She told me she doesn’t care about me. She’s my Erasthai, for f**k’s sake—she should be obsessed with me!” I rubbed my forehead.
“Are you sure she’s your Erasthai?” he asked, doubtful.
I barked a laugh. “She is. From the first time I saw her, I knew. I could feel it.”
“Or maybe you just think that because she’s pretty?” Lily raised a brow. “Pretty girls are your kryptonite.”
“What? No. This was different. Yeah, she’s pretty—really f*****g beautiful. Those blue eyes. Those lips. That body…but that’s not why I know she’s the one. I felt the pull. Her scent, too.” The words rushed out of me.
Silence. No one looked convinced.
“I need some air,” I muttered, stepping outside.
The night air hit me like a slap. I took a deep breath, started down the street—then Stiffened.
She was there. Staggering just a few meters away, surrounded by men.
My blood boiled.
One of them had his hand on her waist.
I was on him in seconds, punching his face so hard he crumpled. The other two lunged, but mortals were no match for me.
I grabbed both by the shirts, ready to snap their necks, when Dante appeared.
“I’ll handle them. Get her out of here,” he offered.
I hesitated. Goddess, I wanted to kill them but when I looked at her, helpless and trembling, I knew she needed me more.
I shoved the bastards away and went to her. She collapsed against me, hugging me as tears spilled down her cheeks.
I froze. I’d never held a crying woman before—not like this. Sure, I’d caused plenty of tears, but this was different. I’d never cared about the women I made cry in the past but holding her so close to me, hearing her sobs, did things to my insides that I couldn’t explain.
I lifted her gently, carrying her to my Maybach. My driver handed me a towel for my bloody knuckles. I sat with her in the back, holding her soft frame against me.
She was so still. So warm. So mine.
“Do you always look this handsome?” she hiccuped suddenly, covering her mouth with a giggle.
I blinked, then chuckled. “I like to think I do.”
She shifted suddenly, straddling my lap. My body betrayed me instantly, but I couldn’t take advantage of her like this. Gently, I eased her back into the seat.
She giggled again, eyes sparkling.
“What was that?” she whispered, tilting her head.
“What was what?”
“Something poked me when I sat on your legs.” Another hiccup. “Sorry.”
I swallowed hard. f**k.
“Has to be my belt.”
“Why was your belt hot?”
I rubbed my forehead and snorted. “There’s something on your face,” I deflected, desperate to change the topic.
“What’s that” she asked and I pretended to wipe something off
She frowned, leaning in close—dangerously close. Our lips hovered inches apart. My gaze flicked to her mouth as she licked it slowly.
Perfect. Rose-colored. Bow-shaped. Begging to be kissed.
I wanted to taste the alcohol, wet on her tongue.
I’d never wanted anyone this bad. And I couldn’t have her. Not like this.
“Your eyes are so blue,” she whispered, smiling. Her breath was warm, sweet with faint traces of alcohol. Meaning she hadn’t been drinking much, she was a lightweight.
“Yours are blue too. Icy blue.”
Her smile widened. She was so easy to talk to when drunk. With a soft yawn, she curled into me, wrapping her arms around my waist.
“Please adjust your hot belt,” she mumbled, making me snort.
“I’m sorry sweetheart, just shift your head a little to my knees “ I would have felt embarrassed if she was in her right senses. Why was I getting hard at the littlest of things?
“My name is Myla,” she corrected softly before drifting off.
And I smiled.
At last, she’d told me her name.
- Writer
