Why You Should Never Rescue Stray Demons Chapter 69

**OZ**

This isn’t how I expected my evening to go, but I’m not complaining. Kacia is in my arms, her breath catching against my lips, her body warm and real and close, and everything else in the world has gone quiet. I’m being careful, of course I am. She’s still bruised and broken and hurting, and the last thing I want is to add to her pain. But damn, when she looks at me like that… When she asked me to kiss her? Every last shred of self control I’ve been clinging to frayed apart at the seams. I kiss her slowly at first, testing, coaxing, but she doesn’t hesitate. She leans in, kissing me back like she’s been waiting for this just as long as I have. One of her hands slides up my neck, fingers tangling in my hair. I groan, low and involuntary, and pull her closer, just enough to feel her pressed against me without jostling her ribs. And then her hand brushes over the base of my horns. Pleasure rips through me like lightning. I groan again, deeper this time. Heat floods through me. My tail twitches sharply beneath the blankets, and every thought I’ve ever had promptly abandons ship. I did NOT know that would feel so good. I don’t even realise what’s happening at first. The haze in my mind is thick, lust, longing, and desperation all tangled together. Kissing her again feels like the only thing that matters and I- 

Wait. Horns? Shit. My glamour. Did I-? Shit. Panic douses the heat like ice water. My stomach lurches as I realise I’ve lost control, only for a moment, but enough. My glamour slipped. I pull back fast, breath ragged, trying to blink the magic back into place. My eyes sting. My claws ache. My pulse is thundering in my ears. I can’t do it, I can’t focus. I’m not fast enough. I don’t want to risk closing my eyes in case I move and somehow crush one of Kacia’s injuries. 

“Kacia, don’t open your eyes.” I whisper, sharp and urgent. 

“I-” But the words die in my throat. It’s too late. Her eyes are already open.

The moment I told her not to look, Kacia’s eyes instinctively flew open and locked onto mine, exactly the way someone always looks down when you say ‘don’t look down’. It’s human nature. Or in her case, half human, half fae. All stubborn. For a heartbeat, I think, I HOPE, that maybe it didn’t work. That maybe the nightmare effect didn’t take hold. She’s not screaming. Not recoiling in horror. Not scrambling away. But then I see it. She’s completely frozen. Not relaxed. Not calm. Frozen. Every muscle in her body is locked tight. Her hands are clenched in the sheets. Her chest isn’t rising. Not like it should. I don’t think she’s breathing. Her eyes, those violet eyes that usually spark with mischief or flash with fire, are wide and glassy, staring into mine like she’s a deer staring down headlights. Like a rabbit facing down a fox. And that’s what I am to her right now. A predator. My stomach twists as guilt crashes over me. No, no, no… I force my gaze away from hers, much too late, and carefully lift a hand to shield her eyes. She flinches as I touch her face. She flinches. Damn, that hurts. It’s a small thing, that barely there movement, but it might as well be a dagger to the chest. Her body jerks beneath my touch like I’m something to be feared. Like she expects me to hurt her. I slip off the bed immediately, moving slowly so I don’t startle her any more than I already have. I cross to the far side of the room, putting space between us because it’s all I CAN do. My hands are trembling as I force my breathing to slow, grounding myself so I can drag my glamour back into place. Come on, come on... I breathe in deep and force my magic to cooperate. My claws, my horns, my eyes and the power in them. All of it. I hide all of it. A bit at a time, I pull the glamour back until I look like… Me. Human-ish. Safe. I turn around carefully. Kacia is still staring. Her eyes are locked on me with the intensity of someone watching a wild animal, not sure if it’s about to pounce or slink away. Then she jolts. Just slightly. Her body snaps into motion again and she pushes herself upright, inching backward until her spine hits the headboard. She’s shaking. I can see it in her shoulders, the shallow tremble in her hands. This is bad. This is so damn bad.

“Kacia…” My voice cracks a little. I soften it and try again. 

“Sweetheart…” I start. She flinches. Twice in one night. I bite the inside of my cheek and lower myself slowly to the floor, keeping my hands where she can see them. I sit cross legged with my back touching the wall on the far side of the room, and I make sure I’m not between her and the door. I do my best to keep my posture open and small. Kacia is above me now, physically, and that’s the point. I don’t want to be looming. I don’t want to be threatening. I want her to feel safe.

“It’s just the magic, beautiful.” I murmur, voice barely above a whisper. 

“I’m still me.” I add, my voice breaking a little. She gives a stiff little nod. 

“I know.” She says, but her voice is clipped. Controlled. Not okay. Shit. Shit, shit, SHIT! Last time she saw me lose control, she wasn’t even really looking. She was already under the magical influence of the wraith, shielded by distance and adrenaline and everything else going on. But this time? She got the full dose. The nightmare magic hit her square in the face, and it’s doing what it was designed to do. Not hurt. Not break. Just… Paralyze. With fear. With dread. And she’s still trying so hard to be brave. I can see it, the tension in her jaw, the rigid way she’s holding herself. She hasn’t run. She hasn’t screamed. She hasn’t broken down. But she is beyond rattled. She’s terrified. 

“What can I do, Kaci?” I ask gently, feeling helpless and too big and too wrong at this moment. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so uncomfortable in my own skin before.

“How can I help you?” I ask. Her breath catches in her throat. Then she exhales shakily. One breath. Then another. I see her fingers tapping out a pattern as she counts each breath. She’s trying to calm herself down, trying to shake it off. She’s doing breathing techniques, grounding strategies. Smart girl. Finally, she manages to answer.

“Just… Stay over there for a while.” She says shakily. There’s no anger in her tone. Just confusion, guilt and fear. The combination of emotions in her voice punches the air from my lungs. I nod.

“Of course.” I say quietly. I don’t even want to move, honestly. I’ll sit here all night if I have to. All week. All year. Whatever it takes to let her breathe, to let her reset, to let her remember that I’m not going to hurt her. Not now. Not ever. She draws her knees up, slowly, stiffly, and wraps her arms around them, curling in on herself like she’s trying to make her body smaller. Like she doesn’t trust it. Or worse… Doesn’t trust me. My throat tightens, but I don’t speak again. There’s nothing I can say that will fix this. No fast spell. No apology that’s big enough.

The silence is suffocating. She doesn’t speak, and neither do I. I just watch her carefully, my hands clenched into fists on the carpet as I wait for her to calm down. Her breathing evens out, slowly. She blinks several times like she’s trying to shake off a fog. Eventually, her eyes drop away from mine and stay down.

“I’m sorry.” I say again, quieter this time.

“I know, I’m sorry too.” She whispers. I frown. 

“Don’t be.” I respond. 

“I flinched. I’m being dramatic.” She says, guilt filling her tone, but despite that guilt, she still doesn’t move any closer. 

“I scared you. I dropped my glamour.” I remind her.

“I kissed you. And then I flinched.” Her voice cracks. My heart twists.

“That was the magic, you couldn’t help it. I know you didn’t mean to.” I try to reassure her. She nods slightly, but the guilt is still etched into every line of her body. 

“I didn’t mean to make you feel unsafe.” I say, voice barely audible.

“I know, it was an accident.” She answers. It would be more reassuring if she wasn’t still shaking. I wish I could do something to fix it, but I can’t think of anything. So, I do the only thing I can do, exactly what she asked me to do. I sit and I wait.