Page 2 of Avidian (The Demon and the Savior #1)

“Nobody’s ever really asked me what I want, and I don’t know myself.

This path has been laid out for me for as long as I can remember.

My two brothers are already deep in the business, and it’s my turn to start carrying my weight in the family,” he explains, shifting his hands and repositioning himself against the tree.

If I didn’t know better, I’d say he seems nervous.

We both sit there in silence, our eyes drifting over the garden and the stars overhead. It should feel awkward sitting in a park late at night with a complete stranger, but instead it’s the most relaxed I’ve felt in ages. I almost feel normal, and I savor the feeling.

He clears his throat, and I turn to face him, not ready for this moment to end. “Your eyes—fucking hell, Katja. You could start wars with them.”

I look down, suddenly self-conscious. My eyes are a very light shade of blue—like my mother’s. They stand out in stark contrast against my dark-brown hair and pale skin.

When I don’t respond, he reaches over and touches my hand, drawing my eyes back to his. “What would you say if I asked you to get out of here with me? Let’s go do something crazy—seize the night,” he says.

“I’d say it sounds like the start of a horror movie, and I’m not in the mood to get murdered tonight,” I reply.

He pulls his hand away, a charming smile spreading across his face—too charming, like he could get away with murder, maybe get away with anything.

He’s obviously wealthy and attractive, but that only makes him more likely to be an undercover creep.

And yet a huge part of me still wants to take him up on the offer.

“If I wanted to murder you, I could do it now. Knock you out and toss you over my shoulder,” he says, teasing.

“Hmm, so you’ve thought about it,” I giggle.

He has no idea. He’d be a dead man the second Marco realized I was missing. And Marco wouldn’t merely kill him—he’d torture him, along with everyone he knows, anyone who’s ever mattered to him.

“Tell me what happened after,” he asks, and I meet his stare, studying his face for a beat.

“What?” I narrow my eyes, pretending not to understand.

“After the accident. You were so young—where did you go? How did you end up here?”

I shake my head, brushing it off. “That’s a long story, and it’s getting late. I should probably head back.” I rise to my feet, smoothing my dress.

“Can I see you again?” he asks, quickly standing beside me.

I hesitate. “Depends—are you asking because you’re genuinely interested, or are you hoping for a shot at redeeming that terrible attempt at flirting?”

I know damn well I can never see this guy again, but maybe…

“Both,” he says with a wink.

I smirk, playing along. “I come here on nights when I need to get away. Maybe fate will bring us together again one of these evenings.” I wink back and start walking toward the trail.

He quickens his pace to follow. “When you need to get away from what?” he asks, coming up beside me.

“Maybe I’ll tell you if I see you again.” I glance sideways at him, keeping my tone light. “It was nice meeting you, Malachi, but I really have to go.”

He sets his jaw, his disappointment slipping through. “Why do I feel like I’m never going to see you again?”

I don’t have the heart to tell him the truth. My life won’t allow it. Once I leave this park, he’ll become nothing more than a fun fantasy I think about on sleepless nights.

I pause, looking into his eyes for a beat longer than necessary, the cool night air swirling between us. Malachi doesn’t move, but I can feel the shift in the space around us—like the world has stopped spinning.

“Are you sure you have to go?” he murmurs, stepping a fraction closer.

My breath catches. It would be so easy to lean in, to close the distance. But I shouldn’t—there are too many reasons why I should walk away.

He reaches out, his fingers grazing my wrist, sending a ripple of heat up my arm. His touch is light, almost hesitant, like he’s giving me a choice—go or stay.

I know I should go, but my feet won’t move.

“If I don’t leave now…” My mind goes blank, too entranced to think.

“If you don’t leave now,” he whispers, leaning in, his breath warm against my cheek, “you’ll have to kiss me.”

I freeze. His lips are close, so close, that I could tilt my head slightly and?—

No, I can’t.

But I don’t pull away.

Malachi watches me, eyes flicking from my mouth to my eyes, waiting. His hand lingers on my wrist, thumb brushing softly against my skin, like he’s memorizing the feel of it.

“If I kiss you…” I whisper, not sure what I’m even trying to say, “it changes nothing.”

His breath hitches enough for me to notice, and the world around us narrows down to the weight of his stare, the warmth radiating off his body, and the tension hanging in the air. He’s waiting for me to make the first move, giving me the choice.

I close the distance between us, slow enough to feel his breath mix with mine but fast enough that I don’t give myself time to overthink it.

Before our mouths have a chance to meet, I let my tongue glide across his bottom lip. A low, guttural sound rumbles in his throat, but before he can make a move, I turn my head, biting his earlobe.

My breath brushes against his skin as I whisper, “If you want a taste, Malachi, you’ll have to earn it.”

When I pull back, I catch the surprise in his eyes, and the desire simmering beneath the surface. For a heartbeat, the air between us crackles, heavy with anticipation. I take a deliberate step back, leaving him rooted in place before he can act on anything.

“Goodnight, Malachi,” I manage to say, my voice breathier than I intended. I give him a weak smile, turning on my heels and picking up my pace, putting as much distance between us as possible.

I don’t hear his footsteps following. Good. I don’t look back, not even when he calls out, “Goodnight, Kat.”

The sound of my name on his lips makes me falter for a second, but I keep walking. I have to. Once I leave this park, this moment—it will only be a memory. One I might cling to but can never repeat. I don’t have the luxury of kissing cute men in parks.

Behind me, his voice cuts through the air. “Wait?—”

But I don’t turn back.

I never turn back.