Page 51 of Avidian (The Demon and the Savior #1)

“I had given up,” I admit. “On life, on the idea of ever finding someone I’d want to let in.

I didn’t think I’d ever feel like this about a man.

And even if I did, it’s not like I ever thought I’d get the freedom to act on it.

” I glance down at his chest, feeling too vulnerable to meet his eyes, swallowing hard.

“But now...after everything I’ve been through, I wouldn’t change a single moment—not if it meant it wouldn’t lead me here. To this moment. To you.”

The silence that follows is heavy but not uncomfortable.

Malachi doesn’t rush to fill it. Instead, his hand brushes against my cheek, the calluses on his fingers soft against my skin.

He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, touching my chin and coaxing me to look at him, his dark-brown eyes searching mine.

“You know,” he says, shaking his head, “I knew you’d ruin me the moment I saw you.

That night in the park. Those eyes, that smart-ass mouth of yours.

..” His lips curve in a grin, and I feel it in my chest. “And when you bit my ear instead of kissing me, called me out on my shit flirting—I was done for.”

I laugh softly, the memory vivid in my mind. “You were such a cocky jerk. I didn’t trust you for a second.”

“You didn’t have to,” he says with a shrug. “But the more I got to know you—even when you made it painfully difficult—I knew you were going to destroy me. And I didn’t even care.”

“I think I knew I was falling for you,” I say, my lips quirking into a smile, “the moment I saw you reading that spicy romance book. You looked so smug about it, until you got caught. Then you tried to hide it like a teenager with a dirty magazine.”

He groans, dropping his forehead to my shoulder. “I was hoping you forgot about that.”

“Never,” I tease, giggling. “It was adorable.”

He pulls back, mock glaring. “Hey, spicy romance books are top-tier literature. I’ve learned important lessons from them.”

“Oh, I’m sure you have,” I say, still laughing.

“Don’t laugh at me. Those books taught me how to flirt with dangerous demons and live to tell the tale,” he says, squeezing me tight enough to make me gasp.

“You’re ridiculous,” I say, breathless but smiling as he holds me closer.

His fingers trace lazy patterns along my back where they wrap around me. “You’re not what I expected, Kat. But you’re what I needed.”

I rest my head against his chest, feeling his heartbeat under my cheek. “Same,” I say quietly. “Exactly the same.”

I wake with a start, momentarily disoriented, until the events of last night flood back—the cabin, the wolves, Malachi, and how he felt inside me, followed by the conversation that came after.

“Why are you smiling like that?” Malachi’s voice draws my attention to the doorway. He’s standing there, fully dressed, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised.

“Why are you watching me sleep like a creep?” I shoot back, grabbing a pillow and tossing it at him. He catches it with ease, laughing as he steps further into the room. “You’re all dressed. Why didn’t you wake me?”

I sit up and tug the blankets tighter. The cold bites at my skin, visible puffs of breath forming with every word.

“You looked too cute to disturb. Plus, I kept watch all night,” he says casually, as if staying up in this freezing cabin after everything that happened was no big deal. “Didn’t feel right to sleep here.”

Guilt prickles in my chest. “You should’ve woken me.

I would’ve taken shifts with you.” I grab the other pillow and throw it at him.

This time, he lets it hit him before closing the distance between us in two strides.

His lips crash against mine, hard and unrestrained, like he’s been dying to kiss me all night.

When he pulls away, breathless and grinning, I can’t help but giggle.

“What was that for?” I ask, my cheeks flushing despite the cold.

“Because you’re adorable.” His grin widens, and he grabs the bundle of clothes from a nearby chair, handing them to me. “Now, get dressed. Stay put. I’ll go get the truck and pick you up.”

My eyes widen, and I’m about to protest when I realize I really don’t want to make that hike back down. “I can come with you. My ankle feels fine—a little sore but mostly healed.”

He shakes his head, firm. “No. Those wolves could still be out there, and it’s safer if you stay here.”

“I don’t like this,” I say, narrowing my eyes at him. “You better not go dying on me out there. I mean it—be careful.”

He leans in, kissing me again, softer this time, and when he pulls back, there’s a playful glint in his eye. “I’ll be fine. Plus, no offense, but I’ll move a lot faster without you.”

I swat at his arm, but he dodges, chuckling. “Now, come barricade the door after me,” he says, already heading for it.

I scramble out of bed, pulling on the clothes he brought me as quickly as I can. The cold hits me like a slap, but I ignore it, rushing to follow him. Once he’s gone, I lock the door and push the table back in front of it, as he instructed.

The room feels eerily quiet without him, the silence amplifying my unease. I clutch the knife he gave me, double-checking the blade like it’ll somehow make me feel safer.

“Don’t get yourself killed, Malachi,” I mutter under my breath. “I mean it.”

Time drags. I remind myself it hasn’t been more than fifteen minutes, maybe less, but it feels like hours.

Malachi told me the hike would take longer, so I shouldn’t worry.

Still, I can’t stop pacing. My nerves are getting the better of me, and I decide to distract myself by searching the cabin for anything useful.

Maybe there’s something here that could make this place feel less ominous—or better yet, something to help if trouble comes back.

Everything is coated in dust and cobwebs, the air stale like no one’s stepped inside for years.

The cabin is a single story with four bedrooms. Two of them are identical to the one Malachi and I slept in, twin beds covered in worn sheets.

Then there’s the master bedroom, which has a massive bed taking up most of the space.

For a moment, I’m thankful we didn’t choose this room.

The cramped bed we shared last night forced us to stay close, pressed together for warmth, and somehow that felt. ..perfect.

But this room has its charm. A huge, claw-foot tub sits in the corner, and my mind flashes to the idea of soaking in it with Malachi, steam rising around us, his hands on my skin. I shake the thought away and slide open the master closet door.

Empty.

The stark bar inside is bare, not a coat, jacket, or even a pair of old boots to hint that someone used to live here.

What am I even looking for? A part of me expects a hunting cabin to have gear—weapons, tools, something—but there’s nothing.

Jamie’s been dead a while, I think, and maybe this place has been vacant ever since.

I turn to leave when I notice another door on the far wall past the bed. Strange. A second closet in the same room? That feels...off. Maybe this one holds something useful. My heartbeat quickens as I approach, pulling the door open.

A rush of freezing air hits me like a slap to the face.

I flinch, blinking against the sudden brightness. White snow and sunlight pour through the open doorway, and it takes a second for my eyes to adjust.

A back door.

We had no idea there was another way out of this cabin. I glance down, and my stomach drops.

On the snow-covered ground, right outside the door, is a pile of cigarette butts. Fresh ones.

Not buried by snow, not covered in frost—fresh.

One of them is still smoking.

My breath catches as I take a slow step back, my pulse pounding in my ears. Someone’s been here.

Someone’s here.