Beyond His Evil

SEVENTEEN.

😯
~~~

His lips were on mine—urgent, claiming, like he’d been waiting for this moment far too long.

His kiss was a contradiction—both gentle and demanding. His lips brushed against mine with a tenderness that sent shivers down my spine, yet there was an undercurrent of desperation as if he was afraid the moment would slip away.

I had never been kissed before, and I’d often wondered what it would feel like to have someone’s lips on mine. I’d imagined it a thousand times, but nothing compared to this. The reality of it shattered every expectation.

Then, suddenly, his tongue slid into my mouth, catching me off guard. I gasped, and the sound seemed to unravel something in him. He groaned deep in his throat, his hand cupping my cheek while the other snaked around my waist, pulling me flush against him. The kiss deepened, growing hotter and more consuming.

I followed his lead, clumsy but eager, trying to match his rhythm. I loved the sensation of his lips against mine—the way they moved with a mix of confidence and restraint like he was holding back and giving in all at once.

When he pressed his body against me, a soft moan escaped my lips before I could stop it.

And then—he pulled away.

Abrupt. Jarring.

I blinked up at him, breathless and confused. “What’s wrong?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stood from the bed, running a shaky hand through his hair. When his eyes met mine, they burned with something dark—anger, frustration, maybe even regret. The intensity of it made me flinch.

“What are you doing to me?” His voice was low, raw. I couldn’t tell if he was speaking to me or himself.

He shook his head, more to himself than to me. “That shouldn’t have happened.”

I opened my mouth, desperate to say something—anything—but the words caught in my throat.

His gaze hardened. “Go to sleep.”

I felt the familiar pull of his compulsion creeping into my mind like invisible fingers trying to tug me under. I glared at him, fighting it with everything I had. “Don’t you dare.”

But my eyelids grew heavy, betraying me. I struggled to keep them open, my body rebelling against my will.

“Sleep, Kira,” he commanded, his voice softer now, almost apologetic.

“Don’t…” I whispered, my voice trailing off into nothing.

But it was too late.

Darkness swallowed me whole.

***

I woke up the next day in my bed, the sheets tangled around me. I felt strangely refreshed, but underneath that was a growing ball of anger. The events from the night before—what had happened between Devon and me—played on a loop in my mind.

I glanced at my bedside table, spotting a cup of coffee with a note underneath. I picked it up, reading: "No training today."

Coward!

I pushed the coffee aside, my mind too clouded to care about it. I got dressed quickly, barely thinking as I pulled on a shirt and jeans. I needed to confront Devon. I needed answers. Why had he kissed me like that, and then pushed me away?

But when I searched for him, he was nowhere to be found. I checked everywhere—his usual spots, the training grounds, even the edge of the woods. I risked being seen by the other hunters, but it didn’t matter. He was gone.