Chapter 15: The Stray’s Protector

Evelyn pov

Rain hit the dirt road with the force of thrown gravel, turning the red clay into a slick, ankle-deep soup.

I dragged the hood of my oversized coat lower over my forehead, my breath coming out in ragged white puffs against the evening chill. The fabric was soaked through, heavy and cold where it clung to my shoulders, but I couldn’t afford to slow down. The market stalls were already shut tight for the night, wooden shutters bolted against the downpour, leaving the narrow alley behind the butcher’s shop pitch-black and reeking of rot.

I hated this shortcut, but it saved me twenty minutes of walking in the storm.

Then I heard it—a sharp, desperate sound cut straight through the roar of the rain. A high-pitched, frantic whine, followed by a wet smack.

"Hold it down! Hold its legs!"

I froze, the mud sucking at my boots. A few yards ahead, tucked behind a row of overflowing rusted dumpsters, three dark silhouettes were huddled in a tight circle. A harsh beam of light from a pocket flashlight cut through the dark, reflecting off the standing water on the ground.

"Look at it twitch," a voice sneered. It belonged to Marcus, the neighborhood menace who spent his days lounging outside the liquor store, looking for things to break. "Throw another rock, Leo. Hit its back this time."

My blood ran cold. Between their muddy sneakers, pressed flat into a puddle, was a trembling heap of matted brown fur. It couldn’t have been more than a few weeks old—a tiny, starving stray pup, its chest heaving as it tried to crawl away on three legs. Its rear leg hung at an unnatural angle.

"Leave it alone!" The words tore out of my throat before my brain could stop them.

The three boys whirled around, the flashlight beam snapping directly onto my face. I squinted, blinded by the glare, but I didn't step back.

"Well, look who it is," Marcus mocked, stepping toward me with a sneer that made my stomach twist. He tossed a heavy stone up and down in his palm. "Little orphan Evelyn, coming out of the gutter to play hero. Mind your own business, girl, unless you want a rock to the teeth."

My heart pounded against my ribs like a trapped bird, each thud echoing in my ears. Every instinct screamed at me to turn around, to run, to survive as I’d always done. I didn't have power here. I didn't have anyone backing me up. But then the pup let out another soft, broken whimpering sound, shivering violently in the freezing mud, its small dark eyes locked onto mine as if it knew. As if it was waiting for me to decide if its life meant anything.

I know what it’s like to be small. I know what it’s like when no one comes to help.

A cold, fierce heat ignited in my chest, swallowing my fear whole.

Before Marcus could react, I lunged forward. I slammed my shoulder directly into his chest with every ounce of weight I had. He gasped in shock, losing his footing on the slippery clay and crashing backward into the sharp edge of the dumpster. The rock slipped from his fingers and splashed into the mud.

"Grab her!" Leo roared.

I didn't give them the chance. I dropped to my knees in the filthy water, ignoring the sharp pain as my kneecaps scraped against hidden gravel, and scooped the tiny dog into my arms. It was shockingly light—just a frail bundle of wet skin, bone, and sheer terror. It let out a sharp cry of pain as I tucked it against my chest, inside the dry folds of my coat.

A rough hand gripped my collar, yanked me backward, and slammed me against the brick wall of the alley. Pain burst across my shoulder blades, taking my breath away.

Marcus stood over me, rubbing his shoulder, his eyes wide with rage. "You stupid bitch. You think you can touch me?"

I pressed my back harder against the wall, shielding the puppy with both hands, curling my body tightly around it. My teeth were chattering, partly from the freezing rain, but mostly from the adrenaline surging through my veins.

"Touch him again, and I’ll tear your eyes out," I rasped, glaring up at him through my dripping wet hair. My voice trembled, but my gaze didn't flinch. "I mean it, Marcus. Move."

Marcus raised his hand, his knuckles white as he drew back a fist. I braced myself, closing my eyes tight, refusing to drop the pup, refusing to let them see me beg.

"Hey! What the hell is going on back there?!"

A heavy, booming voice echoed from the mouth of the alley, followed by the flash of a bright security light snapping on near the back door of the bakery. The heavy footsteps of the shopkeeper clattered on the pavement.

Marcus paused, his fist hovering inches from my face. He looked toward the light, spat on the ground near my feet, and lowered his hand.

"You're dead, Evelyn," he hissed, leaning in so close I could smell the stale tobacco on his breath. "You and that pathetic piece of trash. Watch your back."

He signaled to the other two, and they vanished into the darkness of the main street, their laughter fading into the sound of the falling rain.

My knees gave out completely, and I slid down the wet brick wall until I was sitting in the mud. I panted for air, my whole body shaking uncontrollably. Gently, with trembling fingers, I pulled back the flap of my coat.

The puppy was still shivering, but its nose twitched against my thumb, warm and wet. It pressed its tiny head into the palm of my hand, letting out a faint, exhausted sigh.

"You're safe," I whispered, tears burning behind my eyes and mixing with the rain on my cheeks. "I've got you. They aren't going to hurt you anymore."

Holding the dog close against my heartbeat, I forced myself to stand. My legs felt like lead, and my shoulder throbbed where I’d hit the wall, but I couldn't stay here. I wrapped the coat securely around the pup to keep it warm and started walking down the street toward my small, rented room.

By the time I reached my front door, the storm had turned into a relentless drizzle. I unlocked the door with awkward, shivering hands, stepped inside, and kicked the door shut behind me.

The apartment was pitch black.

I frowned, setting my key on the small wooden table near the entrance. I usually left the porch light on, and the landlord never turned off the main power breaker before midnight.

"Hello?" I called out softly, my voice tight with sudden unease.

Silence answered. A strange, suffocating silence that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

I reached for the wall switch and flipped it. Nothing happened. The room stayed bathed in the dim, gray light filtering through the window from the streetlamps outside.

Then, a faint sound broke the quiet—the slow, deliberate ticking of a clock that didn't belong to me.

I froze in the middle of the doorway. The puppy whined softly beneath my coat.

Sitting in the single armchair in the corner of my living room, completely shadowed by the dark, was the tall outline of a man. He sat perfectly still, his long legs crossed, watching me in silence.

As I stepped back, my hand blindly reaching behind me for the door handle, the man leaned forward slightly into the faint strip of light from the window.

"You took your time getting back, Evelyn," a low, smooth voice echoed through the dark room. "We have a great deal to discuss."