Page 43 of The Devil's Thorn
He turns to me, eyes cutting through the quiet.
“You’re done for the night,” he says, tone cool but final. “Go home.”
Not a question.
A dismissal.
Like my shift doesn’t end with the clock—but withhim
I nod once. “Understood.”
I turn without waiting for more, leaving the table, the glittering floor, the fire at my back.
The second I step beyond the staff door, the noise dulls, the lights fade, and I feel my breath return in a single, sharp exhale.
“Iz.”
Kellan’s voice hits my ear again, quieter now. More careful.
“You good?”
I keep walking through the hallway, past the break rooms and storage closets, my heels echoing softly behind me.
“Iz, say something. Just give me a sign you’re?—”
“I’m fine,” I murmur under my breath, low enough that only he can hear.
“What the hell happened back there?”
Everything.
And not enough.
I don’t answer. I just reach the door, swipe out with my ID, and step out into the cold night air.
The chill hits instantly.
But the heat I left behind?
Still clings to me like smoke.
The cold air bites harder the farther I walk.
Each step echoes off the pavement of the private lot behind the hotel, heels clicking in sharp contrast to the silent pulse of my thoughts.
The street lamps cast a faint gold over the sleek black SUV parked ahead. My breath fogs in front of me, my hands still curled slightly from tension I haven’t released since Rafael stood up and told me togo home.
Like it was that simple. Like walking away from him doesn’t still feel like I’m leaving a room with a lit fuse.
I spot the car—and then movement. Kellan rounds the corner of the building fast, eyes locked on me like I’m bleeding. Ash appears behind him, keys already out.
They both slow the second they see I’m not hurt.
Just… here.
Present.
But I see it in their eyes—the worry they didn’t let show in my ear. The restraint it took tostay outof the lion’s den.
