The crack of his palm against her cheek was what she would remember most.
Elara recalled it as her fingers grazed her cheek. The tingling hadn't stopped. The mark was probably still there, red and warm.
Her thoughts wouldn't stop and neither would her feet. She didn't know how long she had been walking or where exactly she was heading. The only thing that existed right now were the thoughts in her head that refused to quiet down.
*How can my family be so blinded by love for their daughter that they don't see the wrong in front of them?*
The images from a few hours ago flashed before her eyes uninvited. Daniel. Her sister. Her aunt.
Her chest tightened at the thought of her sister.
The same sister whose grave she had visited on cold mornings for five years. The same sister she had cried for until she had nothing left to cry with. Was perfectly alive and was in bed, naked, with the man Elara was supposed to marry.
She had confronted him. Of course she had to. But to her surprise, he slapped her for it.
And her aunt and uncle had looked at her with disappointment in their eyes and told her she was being selfish. That she wasn't happy to see her sister back alive and she was making it about herself, like always.
*Like always... How can I be so blinded all this time. It was always like this. Wasn't it?*
She exhaled sharply.
*Aunt. Uncle. Daniel. And Lena... How could I be so foolish to trust any of them?*
The question sat heavy in her chest with no answer worth giving. She had trusted Daniel with four years of her life. She had trusted her aunt and uncle with everything she had. And they had all betrayed her until there was nothing left to break.
As she walked, her clutch tightened around the bag straps. She had picked up her bag from the hallway without a word and walked out.
Nobody called after her.
Not one person.
"A pretty girl shouldn't be walking alone this late."
The voice cut through the darkness and yanked her out of her thoughts completely.
Elara blinked and looked around properly for the first time. Her stomach dropped. She was on a narrow street with no memory of turning into it. Sparse lights. No shops. No movement.
Three men stood a few feet ahead of her. All of them looking at her with eyes that made her skin crawl instantly.
She tightened her grip on her bag straps and kept her face as still as she could manage.
"Silky hair. Pretty eyes." One of them stepped closer and reached out, touching her hair like it was already his. "Where are you headed this late, sweetheart?"
"P-please let me go," she said, hating the stutter that came out with it.
"Aw sweety, of course we'll let you go," he said, his smile turning cruel at the edges. "But let's have some fun first." He winked.
Her hands were shaking. She looked around quickly for help. The street was empty in both directions and the space between the three of them was shrinking. There was no direction to move toward.
She saw one man's hand moving toward her face. Her eyes shut and her body locked. Her heart was slamming so hard she could feel it in her throat.
That's when bright headlights flooded the entire street without warning.
"What the—" The man jerked back, shielding his eyes. "Shut those off!"
The lights died and a car door opened and closed. Unhurried.
Elara opened her eyes and saw a man step out of the car into the dim light of the street. He seemed to be tall, considerably taller than the three men in front of her.
Hands in his pockets, moving like someone who owned the world, making his dominant aura clear. He stopped a few feet short of the group and looked at the three of them once. A single, sweeping glance and then settled his gaze on the one nearest to Elara.
For one brief second something loosened in her chest. Someone was here. Someone had stopped to help her.
"Move along," the man said in a low, flat voice.
The harasser in front sized him up slowly. Whatever he saw apparently wasn't enough to concern him because he straightened and said, "This isn't your business. Walk away before this becomes your problem too."
The stranger looked at him for a long moment. Then he looked at Elara and then back at the harasser.
"You know what," he said. "You're right."
The loosening in her chest collapsed.
"Not my business." He glanced at Elara briefly. "Go ahead. I'll wait."
A slow grin spread across the harasser's face. "Now we're talking." He looked back at his friends with a laugh. "See? Sensible man."
The loose feeling in Elara's chest collapsed entirely. She was alone again. The harasser turned back toward her, still grinning, and took a step closer.
"However."
The stranger's voice again. Same tone. Like he was finishing a thought.
The harasser stopped.
"I called the police about four minutes ago," the stranger said, pulling out his phone, glancing at the screen. "Before I stopped the car. This street, this location." He looked up. "Six minutes. Maybe five now."
The grin disappeared.
"He's bluffing," one of the others muttered. But his voice had already dropped.
"Could be," the stranger said simply, pocketing his phone. "But I did stop my car. I am standing here. And you have—" he glanced at his watch— "five minutes to decide if I'm worth the risk."
Silence.
The three of them exchanged a look. The kind where the decision is already made and they're just confirming it with each other.
The harasser spat on the ground, shot the stranger one last hard look, and walked. The other two followed without a word. Their footsteps faded into the dark.
Elara exhaled slowly. The tension left her shoulders in pieces.
She turned to look at him.
He was already looking at her. Hands still in his pockets. Expression unreadable.
"I thought you weren't going to help me," she said quietly. "When you agreed with them — I really thought—" She stopped and shook her head. "Thank you. I mean it genuinely."
He nodded once.
She hesitated. "Are the cops actually coming?"
The faintest shake of his head.
"So you bluffed." A tired smile crossed her face despite everything.
"Cowards are the easiest people to break," he said. "Find the crack. Apply pressure. Watch them fall apart on their own."
Elara looked at him for a moment. Even in the dim light she could see the sharpness his eyes carried. Something about his face tugged at her, like she should know him but couldn't place from where.
She shook her head and pushed the thought aside. He had helped her. That was what mattered.
"Thank you," she said again. "Really." She adjusted her bag on her shoulder and glanced down the street. "I should go—"
"Not so fast."
She looked back at him confused. He was watching her with that same steady unreadable expression. Hands in his pockets. Completely unbothered.
"I need something from you in return," he said.
She blinked. Her hand went to her bag instinctively. "I don't have anything with me. No money, nothing valuable—"
"Marry me."
The ground slipped from under her. She stood there, mouth open, no words coming out.
But he just stood there, watching her. Like he had already decided, and was only informing her.