Page 19 of Savage Saint
I go to the nightstand and open the door of the built-in mini fridge, pulling out a bottle of cold water. She watches my every move, the silence between us stretching. When I turn around and hand her the bottle, her fingers brush mine, and I pull backtoo quickly, like her touch burns. But the truth is, it’s the very thing I’m starting to crave.
“Thank you,” she says, taking a sip. The tension in the room shifts, subtle but undeniable, as her gaze lingers on me.
She sets the bottle down and looks up at me, something flickering in her pale blue eyes. “I—I remember my name,” she says suddenly. Her voice is tentative, but there’s also determination in her tone. “Kasia.”
“Kasia...” I repeat, liking the sound of it. It fits her. Foreign and enigmatic, just like the owner. “It suits you, Butterfly.”
“I think I might be Polish,” she hesitates. “No, I’m sure. They were speaking Polish, and I understood.”
I nod, trying to mask the sudden urge to close the distance between us. A name. A different language. All vital pieces of a puzzle. “That’s a good start,” I say gruffly. “Anything else?”
She hesitates and opens her mouth as if she’s about to say something, but then closes it again, shaking her head. Not wanting to press, I let it go. I fish my phone out of my pocket and turn to leave the room. I need to call Arrow and Dante. Tell them the new information.
“Will you—” her voice breaks me out of my thoughts and I stop, turning my head to face her. She clears her throat. “Will you stay? With me?” Her voice is small.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I say, my knuckles going white around the phone in my hand. I don't do this. I don't protect. I destroy. That's what I was made for, what I was trained for. Every time I've tried to be something else—someone else—it's ended in blood and betrayal. Yet here I am, breaking my own rules for a woman who doesn't even know what kind of monster she's asking to stay.
“Please.” She licks her lips, making them shine in the moonlight. “I don’t want to be alone. Not tonight.” Her eyes are large and pleading.
My instincts scream at me to say no, to turn around and walk out, leave her behind. But the vulnerability in her eyes roots me to the spot. And against every single warning in my head, I nod, sliding the phone back into my pocket.
Swallowing, I walk back to the bed and sit rigidly on the edge, above the covers and as far from her as possible. She shifts slightly, lying down and resting her head on the pillow, but I can feel her eyes on me, studying my posture.
The silence stretches between us, charged and heavy. Her breathing evens out, and I allow myself to glance at her from the corner of my eye. There’s something about her, something drawing me in despite knowing I should stay away.
As she drifts back to sleep, I can’t stop thinking about the way she called for me while having a nightmare. The way she looked at me. The way I couldn’t stop myself from rushing to her.
I know staying here in bed with her is a mistake. I can feel it in my bones. But for some reason, I can’t make myself leave.
My gaze slips from her face and turns to the darkness outside the window. The shadows shift and swirl behind the glass, a foreboding omen.
This woman will ruin me.
The minutes stretch, turning into an hour, maybe more. I don’t check the time. I just sit there, listening to her steady breathing. At some point, my gaze falls back to her and I allow myself to watch her as she sleeps, taking in the way her lips part slightly and the way her lashes flutter.
I won’t be able to sleep. I already know this. My mind is too wired, too restless after today’s events. My body is coiled tight with energy only a gruelling gym session would be able to expend. It still wouldn’t help with sleep, though. Insomnia is an old friend of mine. One I’ve made peace with over the years. I used to try to meditate, work myself exhausted, but nothing everhelped. So I stopped fighting it, welcoming the silence of the night instead.
But tonight is different.
Because she’s here, interrupting my sanctuary.
She shifts again, her body twisting, and a soft whimper escapes her lips. Tensing, I wait for her to still, but she doesn’t. The nightmares are creeping back in. Or are they memories? Just the thought of the two being interchangeable makes me move.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I slip beside her, the mattress shifting under my weight as I settle against her back. She’s small, fragile compared to me, but the moment I wrap my arms around her, she melts into me, sighing with relief. Her body seeking warmth, seekingme.
Just while she’s having a nightmare.
I let out a breath, my hand gently resting on her hip as I press my chest to her back, crossing all the lines I’ve drawn. The warmth of her seeps into my bones, calming and grounding. My lips brush against the shell of her ear as I whisper, “Just for tonight, Butterfly.”
She exhales, a sleepy sigh slipping past her lips. “Just for tonight.”
She doesn’t even realise she’s said it, and yet the words burrow into my chest like a promise. Like a fucking curse.
She drifts back into sleep, but I don’t. My heart hammering in my chest, I stare at the ceiling, the weight of what just happened settling in my bones.
I was supposed to stay away.
She was just a burden. A problem to be solved. But now, she’s something else.
