Page 50 of Ravaged By a Devil

I don't push. Everyone in our world carries ghosts they aren't ready to exhume, and I won't force her to drag hers into the light tonight.

"I saw a scar on your hip," she says quietly, shifting the subject. "Earlier, when we were in the woods."

I stiffen, my hand freezing over the spatula for a fraction of a second before I force myself to keep moving, gently pushing the soft curds of egg around the pan.

"Got it a long time ago," I rumble, keeping my eyes fixed on the food. "Trying to save my father."

"What happened to him?" she asks, her tone cautious, searching.

A cold, familiar darkness drops over my mind, suffocating the warmth that had built up in the room. I turn off the burner with a sharp click.

"There are situations," I say, my voice suddenly flat, hard, and devoid of emotion as I meet her eyes, "where killing a man is a hell of a lot kinder than allowing what comes next."

Alexis blinks, taking in the sudden, icy shift in my demeanor. She opens her mouth to ask more, but seeing the steel wall I've just slammed down between us, she lets it go, falling silent. I’m grateful for that.

I slide the golden toast onto a plate, top it with the soft scrambled eggs, and set it down directly in front of her along with a fork.

"Eat," I order softly, stepping back to give her space.

She picks up the fork and takes a small bite, her eyes lighting up slightly as she chews. "This is actually delicious," she says, looking up at me.

A quiet smirk touches my lips.

"Why aren't you eating?" she asks, glancing down at the single plate sitting between us.

"I'm not hungry," I rumble, leaning my lower back against the opposite counter and folding my arms across my chest.

She doesn't accept that. With a quiet, stubborn glint in her eyes, Alexis cuts off a small piece of toast topped with eggs and holds the fork out across the marble island toward me.

I shake my head, holding my ground. "Alexis, eat your food."

Without a word, she pulls the fork back, sets it down, and deliberately pushes the entire plate away from her toward the center of the counter. "Fine. Then I'm not eating either."

A groan escapes my throat. "Alexis..."

"I'm serious," she says, leaning back on her stool and crossing her arms, meeting my gaze with absolute stubbornness. "You have to take a bite, or I'm done."

I stare at her for three long seconds, realizing quickly that she isn't backing down. Huffing, I step forward, leaning over the counter and opening my mouth. She smiles, stepping up to feed me the bite. I chew and swallow, the quiet satisfaction on her face impossible to miss.

She takes the next bite herself, then immediately holds out another piece for me. She feeds me like that—piece by piece—while I offer low, unconvincing groans of protest the entire time, until the plate is completely cleared.

Once the kitchen is cleaned up, I lead her back up the wide staircase. We walk down the quiet hallway in silence until we reach her bedroom door.

I stop outside, holding the handle as I open the door slightly, then turn back to face her.

"Goodnight, Alexis," I say, my voice low and dark, lingering on her in the quiet hall.

“Goodnight.”

She walks in and shuts the door.

The next morning, the roar of my engine cuts through the quiet sunlight as I drive Alexis back to her house to inspect the new security systems Elijah's team installed overnight. My phone rings. I glance at the screen.

Elijah.

I tap the answer button and slip the phone into the console before pressing a finger to the earpiece tucked into my right ear.

"Cain," Elijah says, background noise humming behind him.