Dark Devotion

Prologue something was wrong with Damian Vale, she was sixteen years old. It happened during her brother’s birthday party. The house had been overflowing with music, laughter, and drunken shouting from Lucas’s friends downstairs. Elena remembered sneaking into the kitchen for cake because nobody noticed her when older people were around. That was when Damian walked in. Back then, he was twenty-four. Dangerous even then. Just better at hiding it. He leaned against the counter in his black hoodie, watching her quietly while she stole frosting with her finger. “You’re gonna make yourself sick The first time Elena Hart realized , kid.” Elena rolled her eyes. “Stop calling me kid.” A smirk touched his mouth. “You’ll always be a kid to me.” But then she laughed. And something changed. She saw it happen. A flicker in his expression. Gone in less than a second. Not amusement. Not affection. Something darker. His eyes lowered briefly to her lips before snapping away. The room became strangely quiet. Even at sixteen, Elena felt it. That shift. Like standing too close to the edge of something dangerous. Damian straightened immediately afterward, jaw tight. “Go upstairs, Elena.” Her brows furrowed. “What?” “I said go upstairs.” The sharpness in his voice startled her enough that she obeyed. That was the last normal conversation they ever had. Three days later, Damian disappeared. No goodbye. No explanation. Nothing. And for seven years, Elena wondered why. Until the night he came back. Seven Years Later Rain slammed against the Hart family mansion hard enough to shake the windows. Elena sat curled beneath a blanket on the couch, half-focused on the psychology notes spread across her lap. Outside, lightning split the Lagos sky. Inside, silence filled the house. Her parents were away at a charity event. Lucas was supposed to return tomorrow. Which meant she was alone. Or so she thought. Headlights suddenly swept across the front windows. Elena frowned. A black SUV rolled into the driveway. Her stomach tightened instantly. Lucas rarely drove at night during storms. The front door opened moments later. Deep male voices echoed through the hallway. Then footsteps. Heavy. Slow. Controlled. “Elena?” Lucas called. “In here!” Her brother appeared first, drenched from the rain and grinning. “You would not believe the drive—” He stopped talking when he noticed her expression. “What?” “You came home early.” “Yeah, because somebody needed a place to stay.” Elena looked past him. And froze. A tall figure stepped into the living room shadows. Black coat. Rain dripping from dark hair. Broad shoulders. Cold eyes. Her pulse stopped. No. No way. Damian Vale stared at her like he had never truly stopped. Every memory she buried came rushing back at once. The teasing smirks. The lazy hair ruffles. The way he used to carry her asleep to bed when she stayed downstairs too late waiting for Lucas. But the man standing in front of her now looked nothing like the boy she remembered. This Damian looked dangerous. Not playful. Predatory. His gaze moved slowly over her face. Then lower. Not crude. Not rushed. Controlled. Which somehow made it worse. Elena became painfully aware of the oversized shirt hanging off one shoulder and the bare skin of her legs beneath the blanket. Her throat tightened. “Damian?” His jaw flexed slightly at the sound of his name in her voice. “Elena.” The way he said it made heat crawl up her spine. Lucas tossed his keys onto the table, oblivious. “Guess who’s back from the dead?” Elena couldn’t speak. Seven years. Seven years without a single word. And now he was standing in her house looking at her like— Like he already owned her. Damian stepped closer. Lightning flashed across the room, briefly illuminating the scar cutting across his throat. Elena had never seen that scar before. In fact, she suddenly realized there were a lot of things about him she didn’t recognize anymore. The tattoos disappearing beneath his sleeves. The shadows beneath his eyes. The violence hidden beneath that terrifying calm. “You disappeared,” she finally whispered. Damian’s expression darkened. “Yes.” “That’s all you have to say?” Lucas groaned dramatically. “Oh God, here we go.” Elena ignored him. “You vanished for seven years without even calling.” Damian watched her silently for a long moment before speaking. “If I had stayed,” he said quietly, “things would’ve become dangerous.” A chill slid down her spine. “What does that mean?” “It means,” Lucas interrupted quickly, “Damian’s staying here for a while, and neither of you are allowed to start fighting in the first ten minutes.” Elena blinked. “Here?” Lucas nodded. “Guest room’s being renovated at his place.” Something unreadable flickered across Damian’s face. A lie. Elena somehow knew instantly it was a lie. Damian didn’t correct him though. Instead, his gaze locked onto hers again. Slowly. Intensely. Like he was trying to see beneath her skin. “Is that a problem, Elena?” Her name sounded sinful in his mouth. “No,” she answered too fast. A faint smile appeared. Not warm. Victorious. And suddenly, terrifyingly— Elena realized Damian Vale had returned for a reason. And somehow… That reason was he Damian moved before Elena could react. One second he was beside her. The next, he was already heading toward the front door. His movements were fast. Controlled. Dangerous. “Damian—” “Upstairs.” The command cracked through the room. Elena hated how quickly she obeyed. Halfway to the stairs, she stopped and looked back. Damian was staring through the glass panel beside the door. Completely still. Like a predator tracking something in the dark. The motion light outside flickered again. Then darkness swallowed the driveway. A cold feeling settled in Elena's stomach. “Is someone out there?” Damian didn't answer immediately. His eyes narrowed. Then he unlocked the front door. “Damian!” Ignoring her protest, he stepped outside into the rain. The door slammed shut behind him. Elena rushed toward the window. Sheets of rain blurred everything. For several seconds she couldn't see him. Then lightning flashed. And she caught a glimpse of Damian standing near the gate. Another figure stood several feet away. A man. Tall. Wearing a hood. The stranger appeared to say something. Damian didn't move. Didn't react. The two men simply stared at each other through the storm. The tension was so thick Elena could feel it even from inside the house. Then the stranger slowly backed away. A moment later, he disappeared into the darkness. Gone. Just like that. Her heart pounded. Who was he? Why had Damian looked ready to kill him? The front door opened again. Rainwater dripped from Damian's coat as he stepped back inside. His face was expressionless. Too expressionless. “What happened?” Elena demanded. “Nothing.” “That wasn't nothing.” His jaw tightened. “Go to bed.” “Stop saying that.” For the first time, genuine frustration flashed across his features. “You don't understand how dangerous this is.” The words sent ice through her veins. Dangerous. Not weird. Not complicated. Dangerous. “Dangerous for who?” Damian looked at her for a long moment. When he finally answered, his voice was almost a whisper. “For anyone who gets close to me.” The admission hung between them. Heavy. Honest. Terrifying. Then, before Elena could ask another question, Damian turned away and headed toward the hallway. But just before disappearing from sight, he paused. Without looking back, he said quietly: “Lock your door tonight, Elena.” A chill ran down her spine. “Why?” Damian's answer came several seconds later. “Because if my enemies know I'm here…” His voice lowered. “…they'll know you're here too.” And for the first time since Damian returned, Elena realized that whatever darkness had followed him home— It wasn't finished with him yet Elena remained frozen long after Damian disappeared down the hallway. The house suddenly felt different. Smaller. Darker. As though something invisible had slipped inside with the storm. She glanced toward the rain-covered windows. Nothing. Only darkness. Yet she couldn't shake the feeling that someone had been standing out there. Watching. Waiting. Slowly, she climbed the stairs. Every creak of the old wooden steps sounded louder than usual. At the top landing, she paused. Damian's guest room was across from hers. The door stood slightly open. A sliver of light spilled into the hallway. Before she could stop herself, she looked inside. The room was almost empty. One black duffel bag sat on the bed. A jacket hung over a chair. Nothing else. No personal belongings. No signs that he planned on staying. Her curiosity grew. Damian had supposedly come because of renovations. But everything about him suggested he was prepared to leave at a moment's notice. Like a man on the run. Elena frowned. Then she noticed something. A photograph sticking halfway out of the duffel bag. Her heart skipped. Without thinking, she stepped closer. The photo showed a younger version of herself. Maybe seventeen. Laughing outside her school gates. The image looked candid. Natural. Like she hadn't known someone was taking it. Confusion washed over her. Why would Damian have a photograph of her? Before she could reach for it— A deep voice spoke behind her. "Looking for something?" Elena nearly screamed. She spun around. Damian stood at the end of the hallway. Watching her. Those dark eyes immediately dropped to the photograph sticking out of the bag. A dangerous silence followed. Heat flooded Elena's face. "I wasn't snooping." The slight raise of his eyebrow clearly said otherwise. Then he walked toward her. Slowly. Every step made her pulse climb higher. When he reached the doorway, he picked up the photograph and slipped it back into the bag. His expression revealed nothing. But tension rolled off him. "Why do you have that?" she asked quietly. No answer. "Damian." His jaw tightened. Finally, he looked at her. "I told you to go to bed." "That's not an answer." Another long silence. Then: "Because I missed you." The confession hit harder than she expected. Her breath caught. For a moment neither of them moved. The hallway seemed to shrink around them. "You disappeared," she whispered. Something painful flashed across Damian's face. "So that you could have a normal life." "What if I didn't want that?" The question escaped before she could stop it. Immediately, regret flooded through her. But Damian had already heard it. The look in his eyes darkened. Not anger. Something far more dangerous. Hope. And for the first time all night, Damian seemed genuinely shaken. "You don't know what you're saying, Elena." "Then tell me." His gaze locked onto hers. A battle seemed to rage behind those cold eyes. One part of him wanted to speak. The other wanted to keep every secret buried. Eventually, the second side won. Damian stepped back. "Goodnight, Elena." Disappointment hit her unexpectedly. He opened his bedroom door. Then paused. Without turning around, he said quietly: "Lock your door." The same warning. Again. And this time, Elena knew he meant it. Because whatever had happened outside tonight— Damian Vale wasn't afraid for himself. He was afraid for her. And that realization was somehow more frightening than anything else. Elena locked her bedroom door. Then immediately felt ridiculous. She stared at the brass lock for several seconds before shaking her head. "What is wrong with me?" Damian had always had this effect. Even years ago. When he walked into a room, people paid attention. When he spoke, people listened. Now that effect had become stronger. Darker. And far more dangerous. She climbed into bed and switched off the lamp. Sleep never came. Instead, she lay awake replaying every conversation from the night. I remember everything about you. Because I missed you. Lock your door. The words echoed endlessly. Around two in the morning, she finally drifted off. Only to wake abruptly. A sound had pulled her from sleep. A soft thud. Outside. Elena sat upright. The digital clock read 2:47 AM. The room was dark except for pale moonlight spilling through the curtains. Another noise. This time closer. Her pulse quickened. Someone was outside. Slowly, she climbed out of bed and approached the window. She pulled the curtain aside. Nothing. Just darkness. Trees swaying in the wind. Rainwater glistening across the garden. Then movement. A shadow crossed the edge of the property. Gone almost instantly. Elena's stomach dropped. Someone had definitely been there. Before she could react, another figure appeared. This one she recognized immediately. Damian. He emerged from the darkness near the back gate. Black clothes. Black gloves. Moving silently through the night. He wasn't surprised. Wasn't confused. As if he had been expecting whoever was lurking outside. Elena watched in stunned silence. Damian crouched beside the fence. Examining something. Then his entire posture changed. Every muscle in his body went rigid. Predatory. Like a wolf catching a scent. Her breath caught. Damian suddenly looked up. Directly toward her window. Even from that distance, it felt like his gaze found hers instantly. A second later, her phone vibrated. The sound nearly made her jump. She looked down. One new message. Unknown Number. Her heart hammered as she opened it. Get away from the window. Elena froze. Then slowly looked outside again. Damian still stood there. Watching. Another message arrived immediately. Lock the curtains. A third followed. Now. A chill raced down her spine. How had he known she was watching? The garden was dark. Her bedroom lights were off. It should have been impossible. Yet somehow Damian had known exactly where she was. Exactly what she was doing. Elena stared at the messages. Then at the dark figure standing outside. And for the first time, a terrifying thought entered her mind. Maybe Damian hadn't started watching her tonight. Maybe he'd never stopped. And suddenly, the photograph in his bag made a lot more sense than she wanted it to. Elena stared at the messages for a long time. Her fingers trembled slightly around the phone. Get away from the window. Lock the curtains. Now. Every instinct told her the messages came from Damian. But that only raised more questions. How had he seen her? Why was he outside in the middle of the night? And who had been lurking near the property? Reluctantly, she closed the curtains. The moment she did, another message appeared. Good. Her pulse skipped. There was no signature. No explanation. Just one word. Yet somehow she knew. Damian. Only Damian. Elena sank onto the edge of her bed. A dozen questions raced through her mind. Without thinking, she typed a reply. Who was outside? Three dots appeared immediately. Then disappeared. Appeared again. Finally, a message arrived. Go to sleep, Elena. Her jaw dropped. That's not an answer. No response. She tried again. Are you watching my room right now? Nothing. Five minutes passed. Then another message appeared. You're supposed to be sleeping. Elena groaned in frustration. The man was impossible. Before she could type another response, a loud sound echoed from downstairs. A crash. Glass breaking. She jumped to her feet. Her bedroom door flew open before she could reach it. Damian stood there. Breathing hard. His eyes immediately swept across the room. Checking. Searching. Making sure she was unharmed. For one brief moment, relief flashed across his face. Then it vanished. "What happened?" Elena demanded. "Stay here." "No." His gaze darkened. "Elena." "No. You don't get to keep giving orders and expect me to obey." For a second, Damian actually looked impressed. Then another crash sounded from downstairs. This one louder. The temperature in the room seemed to drop instantly. Damian turned toward the hallway. Every trace of warmth disappeared from his expression. The predator returned. And for the first time, Elena understood why people might fear him. Not because he was cruel. Because he was dangerous. The kind of dangerous that smiled rarely and fought efficiently. The kind of dangerous that didn't need to raise his voice. Damian looked back at her. "If I tell you to run, you run." Fear curled through her chest. "Damian—" "If I tell you to hide, you hide." His voice remained calm. Too calm. "You're scaring me." Something softened in his eyes. Only for a second. Then he stepped closer. "That's exactly what I'm trying to avoid." Before Elena could answer, Damian pulled something from the back of his waistband. A handgun. Her breath stopped. Everything suddenly became real. The stranger outside. The warnings. The phone messages. The fear hidden beneath Damian's calm demeanour. This wasn't paranoia. Someone was after him. And somehow, that danger had followed him straight to her. Damian moved toward the door. Then paused. Without looking back, he said quietly, "I left seven years ago because I couldn't protect you if I stayed." Elena's heart clenched. Damian glanced over his shoulder. His dark eyes locked onto hers. "And now that I'm back..." A dangerous promise entered his voice. "...nobody touches you." Then he disappeared into the hallway, leaving Elena standing alone as footsteps echoed from somewhere below. Elena stood frozen in the center of her room. The silence after Damian left felt unbearable. Her heart hammered so hard it hurt. Downstairs, another noise echoed through the house. Then voices. Low. Male. Too far away to understand. Fear twisted inside her. Every sensible instinct told her to stay put. To lock the door. To let Damian handle whatever was happening. Instead, she opened the bedroom door. Just a little. The upstairs hallway was empty. Dim moonlight stretched across the floor. She stepped out quietly. The wooden floor creaked beneath her bare feet. Immediately, she froze. Listening. Nothing. Then— A thud. From downstairs. Elena slowly approached the staircase. The voices became clearer. One belonged to Damian. Cold. Controlled. Deadly calm. The other voice sounded unfamiliar. Male. Nervous. Scared. She descended three steps before stopping. From her position, she could see part of the foyer below. A man was kneeling on the floor. His hands raised. Damian stood over him. The sight shocked her. Not because Damian looked angry. Because he didn't. His face was completely expressionless. Which somehow felt much worse. The stranger swallowed hard. "You don't understand—" "I understand perfectly." Damian's voice was quiet. The man visibly flinched. "You were told to stay away." "I wasn't here for her." The words made Elena's stomach drop. Her. The stranger meant her. Damian's jaw tightened. The first sign of emotion she'd seen. "That was your final mistake." The man's eyes widened. Suddenly he noticed Elena standing on the staircase. Panic flooded his face. "No!" The shout echoed through the house. "Elena, run!" Everything happened at once. The stranger lunged. Damian moved faster. A blur of motion. A crash. The sound of furniture splintering. Then silence. When Elena blinked again, the stranger was pinned against the wall. Damian's forearm pressed against his throat. The difference in power between them was terrifying. The man struggled. Damian didn't move an inch. His dark eyes lifted. Meeting Elena's. And for the first time all night— He looked angry. Not at the stranger. At her. "You disobeyed me." The dangerous calm in his voice sent a shiver down her spine. Elena opened her mouth. No words came out. Damian released the man abruptly. The stranger collapsed onto the floor coughing. "Get out." The order cracked through the room. The man didn't argue. Didn't hesitate. He scrambled toward the broken front door and disappeared into the night. Moments later, only silence remained. Elena descended the rest of the staircase. "Who was that?" Damian looked away. No answer. "Damian." His shoulders tensed. "Someone from my past." "Why was he talking about me?" The question hung heavily between them. Rain tapped softly against the shattered glass. Finally, Damian spoke. "Because people know you matter to me." Elena's breath caught. The confession was simple. Direct. Terrifying. Damian stepped closer. Not enough to touch. Just enough to make her pulse race. "And that makes you a target." For a moment, neither of them moved. The broken doorway let cold wind spill into the house. But Elena barely noticed. Because all she could focus on was the look in Damian's eyes. The same look she'd seen all night. Protective. Possessive. Obsessive. And for the first time, she realized something that frightened her even more than the stranger. Damian wasn't trying to hide his feelings anymore. And she wasn't sure she wanted him . The front door was boarded up before sunrise. Lucas slept through everything. Somehow. Elena wasn't sure whether to laugh or scream about it. By six in the morning, she sat alone on the back patio wrapped in a blanket, staring at the gray sky. The events of the night replayed endlessly in her head. The stranger. The warnings. The photograph. Damian. Especially Damian. The patio door slid open behind her. She didn't need to turn around to know who it was. His presence had become impossible to ignore. Damian stepped outside carrying two mugs. He set one beside her. Coffee. Exactly how she liked it. Two sugars. A little milk. Elena frowned. "I never told you how I drink coffee." The corner of Damian's mouth twitched. "No." "You remembered?" His expression darkened slightly. "I remember everything." The answer should have sounded sweet. Instead, it sent chills down her spine. Silence settled between them. The morning air was cool. Birds chirped somewhere beyond the trees. The normal sounds felt strange after such an abnormal night. Finally, Elena looked at him. "No more lies." Damian remained quiet. "You owe me answers." His jaw tightened. "I know." "Then start talking." For a long moment, he simply stared ahead. Then he sighed. The sound was tired. Heavy. Like a man carrying too much. "When I left seven years ago, I made enemies." Elena listened carefully. "Bad enemies?" A humorless smile appeared. "The kind that don't forgive." Fear stirred inside her. The scars. The gun. The stranger. Everything suddenly made more sense. "They came after you?" Damian looked at her. "No." His voice was quiet. "They came after everyone I cared about." A chill slid through her. "That's why you left?" "Partly." The answer wasn't complete. She could tell. There was still something he wasn't saying. Something important. Elena leaned forward. "What aren't you telling me?" Damian's eyes held hers. Seconds passed. Then more. A battle seemed to rage inside him. Whether to tell the truth. Or protect her from it. Eventually, truth won. Barely. "When you turned sixteen..." he began. His voice sounded rough. "...I realized leaving was the only way I could stay away from you." Elena's heart stopped. The world seemed to go silent. Neither of them moved. Neither of them breathed. The confession hung between them. Raw. Dangerous. Real. Damian looked away first. As though he hated himself for saying it. "I should never have come back." The words hurt more than she expected. "Then why did you?" He laughed once. A bitter sound. Because he already knew the answer. And so did she. His gaze slowly returned to hers. Dark. Intense. Unavoidable. "You know why." The morning sun finally broke through the clouds. Light spilled across the patio. Across the scars on Damian's hands. Across the expression on his face. And for the first time since his return, Elena understood the truth. Damian Vale hadn't come back because he needed a place to stay. He hadn't come back because of renovations. Or unfinished business. Or old friendships. He came back because seven years hadn't been enough. Distance hadn't been enough. Time hadn't been enough. He had tried to forget her. Failed. And now the darkness he carried had led him straight back home. Straight back to her. And neither of them knew whether that would save them— Or destroy them. Chapter One — Epilogue Scene That night, after everyone had gone to bed, Elena couldn't sleep. Again. The confession kept replaying inside her head. "When you turned sixteen... I realized leaving was the only way I could stay away from you." Every time she remembered those words, her heart reacted in a way she didn't understand. Fear. Confusion. Something far more dangerous. The digital clock beside her bed read 1:13 AM. With an irritated sigh, she climbed out of bed and headed downstairs. The house was silent. Moonlight spilled through the tall windows. She reached the kitchen and froze. Damian was there. Of course he was. He stood by the window wearing a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up. One hand gripped a glass of water. The other rested on the counter. He didn't turn around. Didn't seem surprised. "You should be asleep." Elena almost laughed. "You say that every time." A faint smile appeared. The first genuine smile she'd seen from him. Small. Dangerous. Beautiful. It vanished quickly. Neither spoke for several moments. The silence felt strangely comfortable. Until Elena noticed something. A file folder sitting on the counter. Partially open. Photographs spilled from inside. Her photographs. Dozens of them. Elena laughing outside a bookstore. Elena leaving university. Elena buying coffee. Elena walking through the city. Months. Years. Hundreds of moments she never knew anyone had captured. Her stomach dropped. Slowly, she looked up. Damian wasn't hiding them. Wasn't apologizing. He simply watched her reaction. "You followed me." The accusation came out barely above a whisper. His expression remained calm. "Yes." No denial. No excuse. Just truth. Shock flooded her. "Why?" For the first time, uncertainty appeared in his eyes. A rare crack in his armour. Because some questions had no safe answers. Finally, Damian spoke. Quietly. "Because I couldn't stay away." The words settled heavily between them. Elena stared at him. At the photographs. At the years of silent obsession spread across the countertop. A sane person should have run. Should have been terrified. Part of her was. But another part— The dangerous part— Couldn't stop wondering how many times Damian had watched from afar. How many times he'd protected her without her knowing. How many times he'd chosen distance over possession. Damian slowly gathered the photographs. His movements careful. Controlled. Like he was trying not to scare her. Too late. She was already scared. Not of him. Of how impossible it was to look away. "You should hate me." His voice sounded tired. Elena swallowed. "Maybe." Something dark flickered behind his eyes. A reaction. Hope and pain mixed together. Then he nodded once. Accepting it. As if he deserved nothing else. He turned toward the doorway. Ready to leave. Ready to put distance between them again. But before he could take a step— Elena spoke. "Damian." He stopped instantly. Every muscle in his body went still. She didn't know why she said it. Didn't know why her heart was racing. Only that she needed him to hear it. "You should have told me." Silence. Damian closed his eyes briefly. A man who had faced enemies, violence, and danger without fear. Yet those four words seemed to affect him more than anything else. When he finally looked back, his expression was unreadable. But his eyes— His eyes looked wrecked. And devoted. And hopelessly obsessed. The kind of obsession that survived seven years apart. The kind that refused to die. The kind that had only grown stronger in the dark. Outside, rain began falling once more. Inside, neither of them moved. And somewhere between the storm and the silence— Their story truly began. End of Chapter One. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .