Sarafina POV
The sun had already slipped behind Valeries' skyline by the time I left the school, painting the park across the street in a tired shade of gold. The kind of light that made everything look softer, gentler like the world was pretending it didn't have teeth.
I wasn't fooled.
My nerves had been on edge all afternoon. Ever since the alley… ever since that whisper… ever since him.
Alistair.
I told myself I didn't expect to see Alistair again.
I told myself I didn't want to.
I told myself a lot of things.
The park looked calm, almost empty just a few people lingering on benches, a couple walking a dog, the hum of distant traffic. I cut through the winding path, hugging my bag to my side. My head still throbbed faintly from earlier, and the mark on my wrist pulsed like an irritated heartbeat.
I wasn't scared.
Just… aware.
Too aware.
I was halfway across the path when a figure stepped out from behind a maple tree, not close enough to startle, but close enough to make my breath jump.
Alistair.
Of course.
He wasn't wearing his coat this time. Just a black shirt that somehow made him look sharper, more dangerous. His posture was relaxed, too relaxed….but his eyes tracked me like he'd been waiting.
Because he had. I could tell.
He didn't speak at first. He just looked at me. Quiet. Intense. Like I was a puzzle he'd already solved but refused to show the answer.
I hated that my pulse reacted before my brain did.
I cleared my throat. "Are you… following me now?"
One corner of his mouth lifted, the closest thing to amusement I'd seen on him. Seriously?
"No," he said. "Not intentionally."
"Right," I muttered. "Because accidentally ending up in the same park as me is completely normal."
"It's a public space," he replied, voice even, smooth. "People walk through it. Including me."
I narrowed my eyes. "You're terrible at lying."
He actually blinked, like I'd caught him off-guard. "I'm not lying."
"Uh-huh." I crossed my arms, trying to look braver than I felt. "So this is a coincidence."
His gaze swept over the park, then settled on me again.
"A coincidence," he repeated, but there was something under his voice, something unspoken.
Something I didn't dare examine too closely.
He took a step closer. Not threatening, but deliberate.
My breath caught anyway.
"You look tired," he said quietly.
"I'm fine."
"You're not."
I glared at him. "You don't know me."
A beat of silence.
Then, softly, almost like a confession he regretted the moment it slipped out; "I'm starting to."
My heart flipped. And I hated that too.
I pressed my lips together and looked away, but his presence, so large, warm, unsettling, lingered at my side like he was a shadow that decided it preferred sticking to me instead of the ground.
We started walking without meaning to, pacing down the path like the conversation demanded movement.
He matched my steps easily.
Too easily.
"You shouldn't walk alone at night," he said.
I let out a breathy laugh. "Is that a threat or advice?"
"Advice."
A pause.
"…But it can turn into a threat if someone else tries something."
Great.
Perfect.
Terrifying.
And what was worse: Part of me felt… safer near him. That was unusual for someone I don't know.
Or maybe "safe" wasn't the word. Maybe it was something more…. Something dangerous.
We reached the end of the path, and he stopped first, turning to me with the kind of calm intensity that made my skin buzz.
"Sarafina."
He said my name like it was something fragile he wasn't sure he had the right to touch.
"I'll walk you home."
"No."
He raised a brow. "No?"
"No," I repeated, firmer. "I'm capable of walking myself."
His eyes darkened, not angry, more like he was assessing every possible way that could go wrong.
"If something happens again…"
"Nothing is going to happen again."
"You don't know that."
"And you do?"
His jaw tensed.
I felt heat rise in my chest, irritation, confusion, something else I refused to name.
"I don't need a bodyguard," I snapped.
"No," he agreed softly, "you need someone who won't let anything near you."
That shut me up.
He took one small step closer, and I swore the air tightened around us.
I should've backed away. But of course I didn't.
"For what it's worth," he said, voice low, "I don't mean to unsettle you."
"Well," I breathed, "you're doing an amazing job at it."
The corner of his mouth twitched. A ghost of a smile. Gone too fast.
Then he stepped back, not far, but enough to let me breathe again.
"I won't follow you," he said. "Not tonight."
It felt like a lie wrapped in a promise.
I nodded, unsure of what else to do.
He began to walk away, but halfway down the path, he turned just once, eyes catching mine in the dim light.
Dangerous. Quiet. Unreadable.
And yet somehow… drawn to me.
I looked away first.
I hated that he made that feel like I'm losing my mind and rationality.