Page 39 of Shattered Silence

No response.

“Enki,” she said again, more forcefully this time.

Still no response.

“Okay, now you’re officially freaking me out.” Not knowing what else to do, Layla moved to his side and reached out, putting her hand on his shoulder. “Enki!” She shook him.

Suddenly, his hand was on her chest, pushing her back with impossible force. Her feet were swept our from under her, and Layla found herself lying on the floor, flat on her back.

Enki loomed over her, one hand tightening around her neck, the other holding a small blade against her throat.

And his eyes still glowed that unholy shade of green.

“E-Enki,” she wheezed, struggling to speak with his hand clamped around her throat. Terrible memories rushed through her mind—the way Damien used to do exactly the same thing to her, the Kordolian soldiers throwing her to the ground with such careless brutality, that deranged medic throwing her into the darkness, pushing her down, tearing through her skin with his vicious claws…

Enki was far more powerful than any of them.

“S-stop,” Layla pleaded, knowing this wasn’t him, because the Enki she knew hadn’t gone to all the trouble of rescuing her and healing her just so he could fucking choke her to death.

Layla couldn’t move. Fear returned in a paralyzing torrent, but then her desperation broke through and she took a deep breath. “Enki!” she shouted. “I’m not your fucking enemy!”

Stop.

Just stop.

To her relief, he relented, his hand trembling as he slowly pulled the knife away, as if he were fighting against some great invisible force. A storm broke across his face, and his features twisted into an expression of such perfect anguish that Layla suddenly wanted to put her arms around him.

How insane.

A lethal alien held a knife to her throat, and she wanted to comfort him.

For fuck’s sake. What was wrong with her? Shouldn’t she be terrified right about now?

As quickly as it had appeared, the green glow faded from Enki’s eyes. He blinked once, then shook his head sharply and pulled the knife away from her throat.

The blade became a dark blur as it disappeared to some hidden place on his body. His chest moved up and down in an uneven rhythm, and Layla was so close she noticed the hitch in his breathing as he swallowed.

As if she were poison, he leapt up off her, getting back on his feet in an instant, and for the very first time, Layla saw the chink in his perfect armor.

What the hell just happened?

It occurred to her that Enki was a man with baggage, and she had no idea how deep his problems went.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, he leaned in and offered her his hand. “I am sorry,” he rasped. “It was never my intention to hurt you.”

Layla’s thoughts whirled as she stared up at the mysterious warrior, trying to read him.

As usual, she couldn’t. The mask had slipped back into place, and he was back to his usual self—mostly. Layla had a hundred and one questions, but she didn’t dare disturb this delicate peace. Instead, she reached out, placing her trembling fingers into his warm hand.

Warm. Despite his cold, severe appearance, he always felt warm.

“I know that,” she said slowly. “You’re not that type.”

Enki curled his fingers around hers and effortlessly pulled her to her feet, making her feel as light as a feather. Stars, he was strong.

“If that happens again, don’t approach me like that.” He didn’t let go of her just yet; he kept his palm pressed against hers, his thumb curled around hers, his fingers wrapped around the back of her hand. Unbreakable, yet gentle. The hand that was wrapped around her throat only seconds ago. “Just keep your distance until it passes.”

“It?”

---