Lily’s POV

The hallways all looked alike, and sometimes it felt like I was running too fast and at other times, like I hadn't moved an inch.

I could still hear their voices behind me, closing in.

The only thing I was sure of was that the drink was drugged, and every single person in that room knew even before I took a sip.

But what I couldn't fathom was why.

“Lily!”

That was Zane's voice, trying to goad me out.

I found the stairs and climbed them, even though I had no idea where they were going to lead. My legs wobbled at intervals, but I pulled myself up always, knowing it was either run or let Zane's friends have their way with me tonight.

Finally reaching the landing of the staircase, I moved to the first door and knocked. Everything still swirled in front of me, and I could barely keep my head up. I wanted to go to bed so badly.

The door clicked open, and someone pushed his head out. I couldn't see his face. Just a lot of finger tousled hair and a single chain dangling from his naked chest.

"Please," I whispered when his eyes fell on me. I didn't think he understood what I was asking for, but he stepped aside surprisingly. I could hear approaching footsteps on the stairs, so I dashed into the room, hoping that this was enough to keep me safe.

He closed the door behind him and turned around to face me. “What is going on?”

My limbs couldn’t keep me up any longer. I staggered on my feet as I slipped off the floor. But I didn’t land on the ground like I expected.

The smell of earth and cedar teased my nostrils as firm hands wrapped themselves around me. He lifted me like I weighed nothing and dropped me gingerly on the bed, while a knock echoed around the walls.

“Stay here,” he whispered, then strode over to the door. I opened my eyes a fraction, enough to see his fingers comb through his hair. He looked restless.

“Open up, man! Did you see anyone run past here?” The eerily familiar voice came from the other end of the door. The stranger who had just saved me pulled it open a crack.

“No!” His tone was sharp, leaving no room for an argument.

“You sure?”

“Get lost,” the stranger snapped. I heard the door slam shut. I sat up and leaned against the bedframe, my body trembling.

"Thank you," I whispered when he walked back into the room. I tried so hard to focus on his features, but the only thing I could see was his hair.

“What the hell did they do to you?” he questioned.

“I…I don’t know. The drink…It was drugged, and I had…”

“Figures,” he blurted under his breath.

He moved closer, and his features came into view. It was blurry, but at least I could see him. He crouched so we were eye level. His eyes looked…wrong. Glazed.

“You can go now,” he muttered. “They should be far gone by now.”

I shook my head. “Please, don’t let me leave,” I whispered.“They will find me. I can’t….”

“You can’t what?”

The stranger had suddenly gotten closer, his hands trembling as they grazed my cheek. Our breaths mixed in the air. I didn't push away from him, even though I knew there was something wrong.

“I’ll get you a glass of water,” he whispered, moving away from me again.

I was conscious of every inch of him as his feet padded across the room, returning a moment later. He slid the glass onto the nightstand and helped me up, his firm hand sliding under my back.

A shiver ran through my spine, delicious and cold. I pulled away from him then, muttering an incoherent apology as he paused.

But he said nothing, dropping to the ground beside the bed. I reached for the glass, gulping down everything.

“Thank you.” I wiped my mouth with the back of my palm, feeling much better already.

“Aren’t you going to ask me what happened?” I found myself whispering after a long minute of an oddly comfortable silence.

He didn’t bother to turn on the lights.

“It’s none of my business.” He didn’t say it in a foul manner.

“That was my husband,” I said either way. “And my cousin. I think…”

“Shh!” He suddenly whispered, placing a long, slender finger on his lips.

And that was when I heard it.

The knock hit the door so hard the walls shuddered. The stranger’s head snapped toward the door, jaw tightening. “Bathroom,” he said under his breath. “Now.”

I didn’t argue. My feet barely obeyed me as I stumbled toward the small bathroom tucked to the right. He opened the door, ushered me inside, and whispered, “Don’t make a sound.” Then he closed it, but not all the way, just enough for me to hear everything.

“OPEN THE DAMN DOOR!” Zane’s voice roared, so loud it vibrated through the tiled walls.

I slapped a hand over my mouth.

The stranger’s voice came next, quiet, and dangerously even. “Stop hitting my door.”

“Don’t play games,” Zane spat. “A woman ran in here. MY woman.”​

“No one came in here.”

“Bullshit!” A fist slammed against the door so hard I felt it in my bones. “You think I didn’t see her? She ran this way,” Zane snarled. “Open it, or I’ll kick it down.”

The stranger didn’t respond right away. The pause was thick, coated with tension so dense I could taste it. Then, in a low growl, he spoke, “last warning. Get away from my door.”

Zane laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Oh, I get it,” he taunted. “You want a turn too? Is that what this is? Think you can play the hero and taste what’s mine?”

My stomach twisted.

The stranger’s reply came slow, clipped. “She’s not yours.”

“Excuse me?” Zane barked.

“You heard me.”

A charged silence followed.

Then, a crash.

I heard a grunt, Zane’s.

“GET. OUT.” The stranger’s voice had changed. No restraint. Just pure threat.

“You don’t know who the hell you’re messing with!” Zane started, voice strained.

“I don’t care who you are. Touch this door again and I’ll break you.”

A sharp shuffle, like Zane being dragged.

“Take your friends and get out of this hall,” the stranger snapped. “If you come back…”

“You’ll what?” Zane spat back, though he sounded less sure now. “You’ll regret crossing me.”

“Not as much as you’ll regret coming back,” the stranger answered.

Soon, the bathroom door creaked. I’d been leaning on it, and without warning, it swung open. I stumbled forward with a small cry, but didn’t hit the floor. Strong hands caught my waist, lifting me just enough that my feet found ground again. My palms flattened against a warm, bare chest.

I gasped and looked up.

For a full heartbeat, neither of us breathed.

“You okay?” he murmured.

I swallowed. “I…I heard everything.”

His hands were still on my waist. He didn’t pull away.

“You dragged him out,” I whispered. “You… fought him.”

“Had to,” he murmured. “He was not leaving.”

His voice vibrated through me. I felt dizzy again, but not from the drug this time.

“You did not have to protect me,” I said softly.

He exhaled through his nose, a shaky sound. “I did.”

I wasn’t sure who moved first.

But suddenly, my fingers were in his hair, and his forehead brushed mine, and the space between us snapped like a thread.

Our lips met.

The kiss was not soft.

It was desperate, breathless, like everything I’d been holding in; the fear, the shock, the betrayal poured straight into him.

His hand slid up my back, pulling me closer. My fingers tightened at the nape of his neck, needing the contact, needing him real.

He kissed me like he could not stop.

He pressed me back gently, guiding me away from the bathroom doorway until my knees hit the edge of the bed. I fell onto it with a soft gasp, and he followed, bracing himself on his arms so he wouldn’t crush me.

“Fuck,” he whispered against my lips.

“Do you…” My voice wavered, but I made myself ask. “Do you have a condom?”

His eyes darkened with a flicker of surprise, then understanding.

He nodded once.

My heart hammered.

“Okay,” I whispered, my voice barely holding.

He leaned in again, kissing me with a heat that stole my breath, one hand cupping my jaw, the other sliding to the small of my back to pull me closer.

The kiss deepened, slow then urgent, his breath mingling with mine as the room blurred, everything narrowing to the warmth of his mouth and the safety of his body over mine.

He pulled away to get rid of his clothes, retrieving a condom from the bedside drawer.

Fuck, this was really happening.