Chapter 2 The Wrong Kind of Human
MALRIK
I should have left the moment the alley went quiet, the threat vanished, and she was safe. That was the plan: intervene, eliminate the problem, and disappear. Instead, she was still touching me, her arms wrapped around my waist and her face pressed against my chest like I were something safe. Something good.
I didn't move, breathe, or even think. Because If I allowed myself a second of clarity, I would realize exactly how dangerous this was.
"Thank you," she whispered against my chest. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."
Her scent was everywhere: jasmine, rain, fear, and something else. Something that did not belong to the human world. It was calling to me, making every nerve ending in my body light up as if I had been struck by lightning.
My demon shifted beneath my skin, restless and awake in a way it had not been for a long time.
Mine.
The word echoed again, stronger this time. Possessive and wrong.
"You need to let go," I said, my voice rough and strained.
"I will," she murmured. "In a minute."
No. Not a minute. Not a second. Every moment she stayed this close made something inside me tighten, coil, and snap toward something I could not control.
"Now."
She pulled back, and I immediately felt the loss. It hit harder than it should have—harder than anything had a right to.
She looked up at me, those storm-grey eyes searching my face, like she was trying to understand something she couldn't quite see.
"Are you okay?" she asked softly. The question almost made me laugh.
"Am I okay? I just killed two men–"
"You didn't kill them. They're breathing." She glanced at the two crumpled forms. "Well, one's breathing. The other one's whimpering."
"–and you're asking if I'm okay?"
"You saved my life. The least I can do is make sure you're not hurt."
"I'm not hurt. I'm a–" I cut myself off before revealing too much.
Her gaze dropped to my jacket, to the hole where the bullet had hit.
"You're not bleeding."
"No."
"You should be."
"I'm aware."
Instead of fear, curiosity flickered in her expression, along with something else—something warmer.
"You saved me," she said.
"It was a mistake."
"I don't think it was."
I took a step back. Distance. I needed distance.
"You need to leave. Now. Before they come back with reinforcements."
"And you?" she asked.
"I don't exist."
That should have ended it. However, it did not.
"What's your name?" she asked.
"That's not important."
"It is to me."
I looked at her. "Why?"
"Because I want to know the name of the man who saved me."
"I'm not a man."
"Fine. The one who rescued me. Regardless of what you are, you returned when you did not have to. That means something."
"It means I'm an idiot who doesn't learn from his mistakes."
"It means you're a decent person."
"I'm not a person at all."
"Can you at least tell me your name?" she asked again.
I should not have answered. Names held power; they created connections, and the last thing I needed was another tie to a human. Yet, she looked at me as if it mattered. "Malrik," I said.
The moment the word left my mouth, the air went unnaturally still. She inhaled sharply.
"Malrik," her voice was a soft echo. And the sound of my name in her voice- It did something to me, something I didn't like.
"What's yours?" I blurted out before I even realized it.
"Sera. Sera Kore."
Sera. The name settled into me like it belonged there. Like it had always been there. Wrong.
Everything about this felt so off.
"Go home, Sera," I said, forcing the words out. "Lock your doors. Don't open them for anyone."
I hesitated.
That hesitation was my first mistake. Possibly the third-tonight has been a string of errors for me.
But the truth was... I didn't want to leave. Not anymore.
Not after everything. Not after her. My demon was restless, refusing to settle down. Every instinct in me was shouting to stay close. I gritted my teeth.
I held her gaze for what felt like an eternity, memorizing those eyes. Then, I turned.
And this time... I forced myself to walk away.
SERA
Fear should have gripped me.
A man who couldn't be hurt. Who moved faster than anything human. Whose eyes burned like fire in the dark.
A man who called saving me a mistake.
I should have run.
Instead, I stood there in the alley long after he disappeared, melting into the fog like a ghost.
My heart was still racing, my skin still tingling where our bodies had touched.
His body was solid under my touch, and I could feel his heartbeat. I guess even monsters have hearts, huh?
He smelled like smoke and something else: something dark and spicy that made my head spin.
Malrik.
Even thinking his name did something strange to my chest.
By the time I reached my apartment, my hands were still shaking. I locked the door, then locked it again, and again. But it didn't help.
The fear wasn't the only thing that trailed me home; It felt like something was following me, watching my every move. Just as that thought crossed my mind, a whisper floated through the air in a language I couldn’t understand. At the same moment, my window fogged up, as if someone had breathed on it from the outside.
I pressed my back against the door and slid down to the floor, pulling my knees up to my chest.
"What are you?" I whispered into the empty apartment.
There was no reply, just an eerie silence. Yet, I couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched, and I could not shake the sensation that my life had changed forever. Little did I know, it was only the beginning.
MALRIK
As I roamed Greyhaven's rooftops that night, I could not stay away. I found myself perched across from her apartment, watching her pace, her storm-grey eyes wide with residual terror. She was beautiful in a broken way: fragile yet fierce, like a storm about to break.
Her window was on the second floor, on the left side. I could see into her living room, where the curtains were only half-drawn. Fear still lingered around her; I could smell it. I kept telling myself I was just making sure she hadn’t drawn any more trouble—nothing beyond that.
A stray cat slinked toward the building, then suddenly froze mid-step. Its back arched as it glared up at her window, a low hiss rumbling from its throat. Interesting.
Animals usually sense predators, but this felt different; the cat wasn’t just scared, it was agitated, as if something inside the apartment was bothering it. A second later, the kitchen light flicked off, and the cat bolted. Inside, I noticed her heartbeat shift—a subtle change in rhythm. The light in the living room flickered twice, either an electrical glitch or something more unsettling.
I had been watching her for four days; something was definitely off, and I needed to figure it out. Then, she came into view: her hair loose, an oversized shirt slipping off one shoulder, and her bare feet padding softly on the floor. She held a glass of water and a book. It looked so normal, almost painfully so. She set the glass on the small table next to her couch. It tipped over—not because she bumped it, but just… tipped. Water spilled across the surface, and she jumped back with a soft curse.
I narrowed my eyes. The table hadn’t moved, but the glass had. She stared at it, then at her hands, shaking her head as if trying to dismiss it. She knelt down to clean up the spill. The overhead light flickered again, this time for a longer stretch. Her shoulders tensed, and her heartbeat quickened. “Stop,” she muttered under her breath.
Instantly, the lights steadied. I went still, and she froze too. Slowly, she glanced up at the ceiling. Silence filled the apartment before she let out a soft laugh. “Get it together, Sera.”
The wind shifted, carrying her scent—and something else. Something old. Something I hadn’t felt since Prague.
I exhaled slowly. This was no coincidence. Someone had sealed something powerful inside this girl and dropped her into a seemingly normal life, and now it was starting to leak. I should leave; that would be the logical decision.
Instead, I remained exactly where I was, watching. I needed to know what she would become when it finally broke open, and whether I would be forced to kill her when it did.
