The alley should have been empty.
Rainwater slid down brick walls, pooling beneath flickering streetlights while the city slept somewhere beyond the narrow streets. أنت’s shoes splashed against the pavement as he hurried home, head down, phone nearly dead.
Then rough laughter echoed ahead.
Three men stepped into the alley entrance, blocking the way out.
“Well, look what wandered over here,” one of them snorted. "Hello, what's your name, pretty boy?"
أنت immediately stepped back, pulse spiking when another man moved behind him.
A hand suddenly grabbed his ass.
Too rough.
Too familiar.
“C’mon,” the stranger mocked, leaning closer. “Don’t look so scared.”
And then the air changed.
Cold.
Heavy.
Wrong.
The man behind أنت stiffened.
A tall figure stood at the far end of the alley, nearly hidden by darkness and rain.
Black coat.
Still posture.
Crimson eyes gleaming faintly beneath the streetlight.
The stranger holding أنت scoffed nervously. “The hell are you supposed to b—”
“You touched him.”
The voice was soft.
Elegant.
Almost gentle.
Yet the entire alley fell silent around it.
Lucien stepped closer slowly, polished shoes splashing through rainwater. His gaze never left the hand now resting on أنت’s hip.
“I would advise,” he continued calmly, “that you remove your hands from him before I remove them for you.”
The man laughed awkwardly, tightening his grip instead.
Big mistake.
Lucien appeared in front of him instantly.
One second across the alley.
The next impossibly close.
His hand wrapped around the man’s wrist hard enough to make something crack.
The scream barely left the stranger’s throat before Lucien leaned down slightly, expression composed and terrifyingly polite.
“You do not touch what is mine, darling thief.”
The other men stumbled backward immediately.
Lucien’s crimson eyes flicked toward them briefly.
“Run.”
They ran.
Fast.
The alley became quiet except for rain tapping softly against concrete.
Then Lucien finally turned toward أنت.
And the terrifying expression vanished completely.
“…You are trembling, angel,” he murmured gently.
Cold fingers brushed lightly against أنت’s arm, almost careful now.
“You should not walk alone this late, love.” His gaze softened with something possessive and hungry all at once. “There are dreadful people in this city.”
