It was around three in the afternoon when Myra set out for grocery shopping with Timothy. Timothy, a young boy of about sixteen, worked at the Brooke household. He primarily assisted at her uncle's cloth store but also helped at home when there was a need for lifting heavy items or running errands.
Fortunately, it hadn't started raining yet, and Aunt Lyla had given Myra fifteen silver coins for the groceries. However, Myra knew she wouldn't need all of them; she had a knack for bargaining and finding good deals.
Every time she went to the market, her aunt would give her a specific amount of money for household purchases. On each occasion, Myra made an effort to minimize expenses and secretly save any leftover money without anyone's knowledge.
As she approached a vegetable stall, she noticed an elderly human man standing behind the counter. In the village where she currently resided, the majority of the population consisted of humans, with only a small number of Demons and Vampires living there.
Picking up a ripe red tomato, Myra inquired, "How much is it for two kilograms?"
"Twelve copper coins, young lady," replied the vendor.
Shaking her head in disapproval, she haggled, "Twelve? Make it nine."
The old man shook his head. "That's not possible, ma'am. These are freshly picked ones, and I can't sell them for anything less."
"I'll go buy them elsewhere then!" Myra exclaimed, pretending to leave. "Come on, Tim."
The vendor, sounding desperate, called out, "Wait... wait! I'll make it eleven copper coins for you."
Myra continued her negotiation, "Fine, let's settle for ten coins then."
With no other choice, the old man agreed to her offer.
After another two hours or so, Myra began her journey back home, carrying a heavy bag. She had sent Timothy home about half an hour ago with two more bags, as her uncle needed his assistance at the shop for some urgent work.
Out of the fifteen silver coins she had been given, Myra had spent twelve, managing to save three coins for herself. She considered herself fortunate in that regard, as her aunt never bothered to ask for the change.
As she walked halfway home, the rain began to pour, urging her to quicken her pace. Determined to reach home before getting completely drenched, she hurried along.
Most of the men and women who were walking and talking leisurely on the roads hurried on to their homes, some even ran towards nearby buildings for shelter. A very few of them were standing out there in the rain, and Myra was one among them.
Her footsteps splashed one after another against the rainy ground. Muddy water splashed on the bottom of her skirts, dirtying them each time she stepped on a puddle.
Instead of taking the usual route back home, Myra decided to take a shortcut, even though she knew that the road there was not safe. Most people avoided it, as there had been many instances in the past where people walking through that path were mugged or, worse, killed.
Desperately praying to the gods to keep her safe, she walked through the narrow road filled with overgrown grasses. Fortunately, the sky hadn't turned dark yet, for it would have been even more dangerous for a young woman to walk alone through that route at night.
With her heart thumping loudly, she brisked up her pace. She was expecting the path to be empty, but much to her surprise—or rather, to her disappointment—she came across three men fighting against one.
She saw a hunky, handsome man with jet-black hair grabbing two other men by their respective hairs, pulling them harder before clashing their heads together as if he were banging two cymbals instead of two heads. There was a strange aura emitting around him.
Myra stood there, rooted to her spot, stunned after witnessing the scene. By now, she was soaking wet in the rain, dripping from head to toe.
The hunky stranger seemed to sense Myra's gaze on him, and he tilted his head slightly to look at her. Their eyes met. Myra simply couldn't look away from his mesmerizing golden eyes. It confirmed that he was a demon. There was something intriguing about him.
Suddenly, she noticed another man running towards the demon with a dagger in his hand, ready to stab him from behind. Myra gasped loudly, dropping her grocery bag in the process.
Shooting an arrogant smirk at Myra, the demon stranger let go of the other two men he was holding, dropping their unconscious bodies to the ground. He turned around to kick his third opponent in the jaw, breaking a tooth or two.
Still not satisfied with the impact, the demon caught the third man's wrist and twisted it, making him scream in agony. Myra flinched, feeling scared. By now, she had started to regret taking this road back home.
Then, much to her horror, she witnessed the demon snap the neck of the third man, killing him instantly.
Myra's heart raced as she took two steps back, her instincts screaming for her to flee. But before she could even think of making a run for her dear life, the handsome demon stood right in front of her within the blink of an eye, his presence overwhelming.
He's fast! Myra thought, panic rising in her chest. And he's going to kill me... just like the others.
Tightly shutting her eyes, she muttered, "Please... please," over and over, bracing for the inevitable. A second stretched into a minute, but nothing happened. Only the steady patter of rain filled the silence.
Curiosity got the better of her, and she cracked open one eye. The demon stood before her, arms crossed, wearing an amused expression.
He was undeniably gorgeous—gorgeous enough to make her heart skip a beat.
His jet-black hair clung to his forehead, each droplet of water cascading down its tips, adding to his allure. The dampness accentuated his features, emphasizing his firm jawline and sculpted physique.
His shirt, saturated by the rain, clung to his body like a second skin, outlining the well-defined muscles beneath. He stood tall and confident, his presence commanding attention. There was an undeniable aura of strength and power that emanated from him, captivating Myra's gaze.
Myra inhaled sharply, fully opening her eyes. She stared at him for a moment before looking away.
He smiled knowingly and said, "Don't worry, I won't harm innocent people."
A wave of relief washed over her, though she couldn't shake the chill creeping into her bones.
"You'll be safe as long as you don't go around mentioning what you saw here."
Then the demon bent down, picked up the scattered vegetables, and placed them back into the bag before handing it to her.
"A young lady like you shouldn't be walking alone here," he remarked. "Where do you live?"
"J-Just around the corner, I'll be on my way," she said, not wanting to spend another second there with this dangerous man.
He nodded. "I'll walk you home."
Myra's eyes widened, and she shook her head vigorously. She wasn't about to trust a stranger who had just killed three men right in front of her.
"Very well," he said, his voice laced with mock humility as he walked past her. "If you prefer to walk alone, that's your choice. Not everyone is fortunate enough to have the privilege of my company."
Privilege? thought Myra, mentally rolling her eyes.
He was about three steps away from her when she suddenly called him out, "Wait!" The demon paused and turned around to look at her with a raised brow.
Dropping the grocery bag once again, she reached into her dress pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. She approached him, gathering her courage, and said softly, "You're bleeding," pointing at a cut on his arm.
The demon just stared at her.
Gently taking his arm, she tied the wet handkerchief around the wound, and he didn't complain. The cut didn't seem that deep, just a small scratch, but Myra being Myra couldn't stay put without showing concern.
Once done, she offered a weak smile before turning to retrieve her bag. Just as she was about to leave, he caught her wrist.
"What's your name?" he asked, his tone laced with curiosity and a hint of amusement.
"M-Myra," she stammered, feeling a jolt at his touch.
"Well, thank you, Myra," he said smoothly, lifting her hand to his lips and placing a soft kiss on it, making her blush. "Get home safely before you catch a cold."
With that, they parted ways, each heading in opposite directions.