12. Valen

CHAPTER 12

VALEN

M y surveillance never lies. I know Ariana's ex boyfriend is drinking himself half to death in this seedy, cheap bar. I know soon he'll be out of funds, and he'll be forced to leave for the night.

And I'm right here, waiting for him.

Kevin stumbles out of the bar, reeking of cheap whiskey and bad decisions. I step from the shadows of the alley, my frame eclipsing the dim streetlight's glow. He squints at me, trying to make sense of the dark silhouette before him.

“Who are you?” he slurs, swaying slightly.

I don’t move. “Stay away from Ariana.”

He chuckles, a nasty sound that grates against my nerves. “You think you can tell me what to do? She’s mine. Always has been.”

“She’s not yours,” I say, my voice steady and low. “She’s under my protection now.”

Kevin's eyes narrow, anger sparking in their depths. “Protection? From you? Look at you, playing the big hero. You don’t scare me.”

“I’m not here to scare you,” I reply, my tone as cold as steel. “I’m here to warn you.”

“Warn me?” Kevin laughs again, a humorless bark that echoes down the empty alley. “You’re nothing but a glorified babysitter. Ariana’s too good for you anyway. Too pure for a piece of alien trash like you.” The insult slides off me like rain on glass until he adds, “She’s probably just using you for your money.”

My fists clench involuntarily at my sides. He’s crossed a line.

“You have no idea who you’re dealing with,” I say quietly.

“Oh, I know exactly who I’m dealing with,” Kevin sneers, stepping closer. The stench of alcohol hits me like a wave. “A pathetic excuse for a man who thinks he can swoop in and save her. She’ll never be yours. She’s a whore.”

The punch comes swift and hard, driving into his gut with all the force I can muster without killing him. He folds over instantly, gasping for breath as he crumples to his knees.

“Last warning,” I say, my voice deadly calm. “Stay away from Ariana or next time, you won’t get up.”

Kevin wheezes on the ground, clutching his stomach, his eyes wide with shock and pain.

“You bastard,” he croaks out between labored breaths.

I lean down slightly so our faces are level. “Remember this moment every time you think about going near her again.” With that, I straighten up and stride away without looking back.

The night air feels cooler as I leave him behind in the alley, a pathetic heap of regrets and bruised pride. The satisfaction of protecting Ariana lingers with me like a silent vow—a promise that no one will harm her under my watch.

I stride through the estate's gates, my jaw clenched tight enough to crush diamonds. The encounter with Kevin left a bitter taste in my mouth, one that even the crisp night air can't wash away. Tragan materializes at my side, his face a mask of professional neutrality.

"Sir, the new security personnel have completed their orientation. They'll begin first thing tomorrow," he reports, falling into step beside me.

I nod curtly. "Good. They start now."

Tragan's eyebrows lift a fraction. "Now, sir? It's nearly midnight."

"I want them on duty immediately. Full perimeter sweep, hourly check-ins."

To his credit, Tragan doesn't flinch. "Understood, sir. I'll inform the security chief right away."

As he turns to leave, I add, "And Tragan? Double the patrols around Ariana's quarters."

He pauses, a flicker of understanding crossing his features. "Consider it done."

I watch him disappear into the shadows of the estate, then continue my path to the main house. My fists clench and unclench at my sides, the only outward sign of the rage boiling beneath my skin.

That bastard Kevin. His words echo in my mind, each one stoking the fire of my anger. How dare he speak about Ariana like that? As if she were some possession to be claimed, a prize to be won.

I enter my study, the door closing behind me with a soft click. The room is dark, save for the pale moonlight filtering through the windows. It matches my mood perfectly.

"Lights, thirty percent," I command, and the room brightens just enough to navigate without stumbling.

I pour myself a glass of Kilgarian whiskey, the amber liquid glowing faintly in the dim light. The first sip burns down my throat, a welcome distraction from the turmoil in my mind.

Ariana. My fated mate. The thought still sends a jolt through me, equal parts exhilaration and terror. She has no idea of the bond between us, of the primal need I feel to protect her. And how could I tell her? How could I explain that the universe itself has decided we belong together?

That's she is destined to be bonded with someone like me.

I down the rest of the whiskey in one gulp, welcoming the burn. No, I can't tell her. Not yet. Not while threats like Kevin still lurk in the shadows. Not while my own past casts such a long, dark shadow.

For now, I'll protect her from afar. I'll be the silent guardian she never asked for but desperately needs. And maybe, just maybe, I'll find a way to be worthy of her.

I stride into the ballroom, my eyes scanning the space until they land on Ariana. She's balancing precariously on a ladder, hanging decorations for tonight's party. My chest tightens at the sight of her, a mixture of concern and something deeper I'm not ready to name.

"Careful up there," I call out, my voice echoing in the vast room.

Ariana startles, nearly losing her footing. I move swiftly, positioning myself beneath her in case she falls.

"Valen!" she exclaims, steadying herself. "You startled me."

"Sorry about that," I say, not sorry at all. "How about you come down from there before you break your neck?"

She descends the ladder with grace, despite her earlier wobble. As she reaches the bottom, I notice the tension in her shoulders, the way her eyes dart around the room.

"Everything alright?" I ask, trying to keep my tone casual.

Ariana bites her lip, a gesture I've come to recognize as a sign of her unease. "It's just... there seems to be a lot more security than usual. Is something wrong?"

Damn. She's observant. I force a smile, hoping it looks more reassuring than it feels. "Nothing to worry about. Just some high-profile guests attending tonight."

Her eyes narrow slightly. "High-profile guests? Like who?"

"You know I can't divulge that information, Ariana," I say, my tone light but firm. "Client confidentiality and all that."

She nods, but I can see the doubt lingering in her eyes. "Of course. It's just... it seems like a lot, even for VIPs."

I shrug, aiming for nonchalance. "Better safe than sorry, right? Now, how are the preparations coming along?"

Ariana launches into a detailed explanation of her progress, but I can tell her heart isn't in it. Her eyes keep darting to the security personnel stationed at every entrance.

"Ariana," I say, cutting her off mid-sentence. "You're safe here. You know that, right?"

She meets my gaze, and for a moment, I see a flicker of something in her eyes - trust, maybe? Or the desire to trust?

"I know," she says softly. "It's just... a lot of changes lately."

I want to pull her close, to tell her everything - about Kevin, about the threats, about the inexplicable bond I feel with her. But I can't. Not yet.

Instead, I place a hand on her shoulder, ignoring the spark that shoots through me at the contact. "Change isn't always bad," I say. "Sometimes it's necessary."

She nods, a small smile tugging at her lips. "I suppose you're right."

"Of course I am," I say.

I watch Ariana return to her work, her movements graceful yet tinged with an undercurrent of unease. Damn it. She's too perceptive for her own good. Or maybe for my good.

I retreat to my study, my mind a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts. The truth is a double-edged sword, sharp enough to cut through the lies I've woven around us, but equally capable of slicing apart the fragile connection we've built.

Pouring myself a drink, I stare out the window, watching the sun dip below the horizon. The amber liquid burns my throat, a physical echo of the turmoil inside me.

"Fuck," I mutter, running a hand through my hair. "How long can I keep this up?"

The answer, of course, is not long at all. Ariana's not stupid. She's already picking up on the increased security, the tension in the air. It's only a matter of time before she starts asking questions I can't deflect.

And then what? Do I tell her about Kevin? About the threats? About the blood on my hands and the darkness in my past?

Do I tell her we're fated mates?

The glass in my hand creaks dangerously, and I force myself to relax my grip. I want her in my life. No, I need her in my life. But at what cost?

"Sir?" Tragan's voice crackles through the intercom, interrupting my brooding. "The security briefing is ready."

I down the rest of my drink in one gulp. "On my way."

As I leave the study, my resolve hardens. I can't keep reality from Ariana forever. If I want her truly in my life - and God help me, I do - I'll have to share the darkest parts of myself with her.

The question is, will she still want me when she sees the monster beneath the man?