Midnight Collision

Damon

Damon Hale rarely experienced fear. He was the kind of man who stared down danger with a steady gaze and walked through chaos with an unshakable resolve. But as he gripped the steering wheel of his sleek black car, speeding through the dim streets toward Seraphina, a cold, sharp fear coiled in his chest like barbed wire.

Her voice still echoed in his mind—broken, trembling, and so small.

"Damon… I need your help."

He had replayed those words a hundred times in his head during the short drive, each repetition igniting something dangerous in him. He didn't know what he'd find when he got to her, but he knew it would break him in ways he wasn't prepared for.

When he turned the corner and spotted her, standing under the sickly yellow glow of a flickering streetlight, his stomach dropped. She was trembling, clutching a torn backpack to her chest. Her hoodie was ripped, her face pale, and her lips stained red with dried blood. Bruises darkened her jaw and cheek, and her eyes—those bright green eyes—were hollow, glassy, and far away.

She looked… fragile. And Damon Hale hated that word.

He slammed the car into park and stepped out, his boots crunching against gravel.

"Sera…" His voice was low, rough around the edges.

She blinked up at him, her lips trembling. Then, as if her body finally registered safety, her knees buckled.

Damon crossed the distance in two long strides and caught her before she hit the ground. Her body was small in his arms, light and frail, and his jaw tightened as he felt the way her ribs seemed to shift under his hands.

Her face pressed against his chest, her fingers clutching weakly at the lapel of his leather jacket.

"You're safe now," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "I've got you, Sera. No one's going to hurt you again."

He carried her to the car, carefully placing her in the passenger seat. Her eyes fluttered shut, her breathing shallow but steady. Damon took a deep breath, gripping the edge of the doorframe so hard his knuckles turned white.

Whoever had done this to her—whatever monster—would pay.

He slid into the driver's seat, glanced once at her fragile frame curled up in the seat beside him, and then drove away from the nightmare she had escaped.

The Penthouse

Damon's penthouse was a sprawling fortress of glass and steel perched high above the city skyline. It was sleek, modern, and cold—much like the man who owned it. But tonight, it became something else: a sanctuary.

Liam Carter, Damon's most trusted friend and a licensed medic, was already waiting when Damon carried Seraphina through the door. Liam was tall, with a lean build and sharp brown eyes that missed nothing.

"Jesus, Damon," Liam said softly as he took in Sera's condition. "What the hell happened to her?"

"Fix her," Damon said sharply, laying her gently down on the plush leather sofa in the center of the living room.

Liam knelt beside her, his brow furrowed in concentration. "I'll do what I can, but you need to step back. You hovering like a storm cloud isn't going to help her."

Damon backed away reluctantly, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched Liam work.

Sera's hoodie was carefully removed, revealing a network of bruises across her ribs and shoulders. Liam's jaw tightened as he gently pressed against her side, eliciting a faint whimper from the unconscious girl.

"She's got at least two fractured ribs," Liam said grimly. "She's malnourished, dehydrated, and… Damon, I think she's been through more than just physical violence."

The words hung heavy in the air. Damon's stomach turned to ice, his fists clenched so tightly that his nails bit into his palms.

"Can you help her?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

"I'll stabilize her. But she's in shock, Damon. She's not going to want to talk, eat, or do much of anything for a while."

Liam set up an IV drip to rehydrate her and bandaged her ribs with practiced precision. Throughout it all, Damon stood at a distance, silent and seething.

When Liam was finished, he turned to Damon. "She's stable for now. But Damon… you need to be careful with her. She's been broken in ways that don't just heal with bandages and time."

Damon's gray eyes softened as they flicked back to the fragile girl on the couch. Her breathing was even now, her face pale against the dark leather.

"She'll stay here," he said firmly. "Where I can protect her."

Liam nodded slowly. "Then you'll need to convince her to trust you. And Damon… don't scare her."

Seraphina

When Sera woke, it wasn't in her suffocating apartment or on the cold, hard floor. Instead, she was wrapped in soft blankets, the faint scent of clean linen and expensive cologne surrounding her.

Her eyelids fluttered open, and she was met with the sight of a spacious, modern living room illuminated by soft, golden light. The skyline stretched out beyond floor-to-ceiling windows, and the sound of faint voices echoed from another room.

She tried to sit up but hissed in pain as her ribs protested.

"Whoa there, genius girl."

A light, teasing voice brought her gaze to the man sitting beside her. Liam Carter was leaning casually against the edge of the coffee table, a faint grin on his face.

"Don't move too much. Damon'll have my head if I let you re-injure yourself."

Sera blinked, confusion clouding her eyes. "Where… where am I?"

"You're safe," Liam said gently. "You're at Damon's place. He brought you here after you called him."

Her breath hitched, and memories came flooding back—her father, the pain, the USB stick clutched desperately in her hand.

Liam seemed to sense the direction of her thoughts. "Hey, it's okay. You're safe now. No one's going to hurt you here."

Sera swallowed hard, her throat dry and scratchy.

Liam picked up a water bottle and extended it toward her. When she didn't move, he unscrewed the cap and held it to her lips, letting her take slow sips.

"Good. Hydration—step one. Next up, food. And don't even try to argue with me, genius girl."

A faint, fleeting smile twitched at the corner of her lips before vanishing again.

"Damon wants to talk to you when you're ready," Liam said softly. "But no pressure, okay?"

Sera nodded weakly, her green eyes flicking toward the hallway where Damon's dark silhouette now stood, his broad shoulders framed by the light behind him.

Their eyes met, and for a brief second, something unspoken passed between them—a promise, a connection, and a flicker of trust.

She didn't have anywhere else to go.

And, despite everything, she felt—just for a moment—safe.