🩸 CHAPTER TWO
811 Words
Amara stirred slowly, her body sinking into something soft—too soft.
A bed.
Warm. Comfortable.
Wrong.
Her brows furrowed as her eyes fluttered open, still heavy with sleep. For a moment, she simply lay there, staring up at the unfamiliar ceiling, her thoughts slow and tangled.
This… wasn't her room.
The realization came quietly at first.
Then all at once.
She pushed herself up, her heartbeat quickening as her gaze swept across the room.
Everything was… dark.
Not dirty. Not dull.
Just—black.
Rich velvet curtains draped over tall windows. Polished furniture carved with intricate designs. Strange artifacts lined the walls, their presence heavy, almost watching.
The entire space felt ancient.
Like it didn't belong in this time.
Her breath caught.
Fragments of memory rushed back—
The alley.
The man.
The ring.
Her hand shot up instinctively.
It was still there.
Cold against her skin.
Her stomach dropped.
“No…” she whispered.
Panic emerged through her as she scrambled out of bed, her bare feet hitting the cold floor. She moved quickly toward the door, desperate to get out—away—anywhere but here.
Her fingers barely brushed the handle—
When a hand caught her wrist.
Amara gasped as her body was pulled back, spinning slightly before colliding into something solid.
Hard.
Unmoving.
Her breath hitched as she slowly raised her head.
And freeze.
Him.
Up close… he was even more unreal.
Sharp features. Dark eyes that held too much calm, too much control. She asks herself if the world has her favorites, the man in front of her was more than handsome, he was charming and gorgeous. She could swear she felt a sudden hotness in between her legs. There was something unsettling about the way he looked at her—like nothing about this situation surprised him.
Like he already owned it.
Owned her place in it.
For a moment, she forgot to breathe.
Then her senses snapped back all at once.
She jerked away from him, stumbling a step back, her pulse racing.
“Who are you?” she demanded, her voice unsteady despite her effort to sound firm. “And why did you bring me here?”
Her hands trembled slightly at her sides.
He didn't answer immediately.
Just watched her.
Then—
“You don't need to know my name,” he said calmly. “Only that you're here because of your choice.”
Her brows drew together, anger flickering through the fear.
“My choice?” she shot back. “I didn't agree to be kidnapped.”
A faint shift crossed his expression—not quite amusement, but close.
“It seems,” he said quietly, stepping just a fraction closer, “you've already forgotten what you agreed to.”
The words hit harder than she expected.
Her breath faltered.
The ring.
The alley.
That moment—
Her fingers curled slightly as realization crept in, unwelcome and suffocating.
“No…” she shook her head, backing away. “That wasn't—You tricked me.”
“I didn't,” he replied, his tone still frustratingly even. “You chose.”
Her chest tightened.
Before she could respond, he moved—closing the distance between them with effortless ease.
Amara stiffened, instinctively stepping back again.
“Stay away from me.”
He stopped.
Not because she told him to.
But because he decided to.
That was clear.
“Then don't run,” he said simply.
The calm in his voice unsettled her more than anger she would have.
Before she could process that—
The door behind him opened.
Another man stepped in.
Pale. Quiet. Expressionless.
“Sir,” he said with a slight bow.
The first man didn't look away from Amara.
“Prepare something for her,” he said.
The second man's gaze flickered briefly toward her before he agreed.
“Yes, Master.”
And just like that—
He was gone.
Amara's breath caught.
“He—he just—”
“Left,” the man in front of her finished.
Like it was normal.
Like it was nothing.
Her stomach twisted.
“What is this place?” she whispered.
He finally turned away from her then, moving toward the door.
“You'll learn,” he said.
Then paused.
Just slightly.
“And you'll stay.”
The words weren't loud.
But they landed like something final.
Amara stood frozen as he walked out, the door closing behind him with a quiet click.
Silence filled the room.
Heavy.
Unfamiliar.
She looked down at her hand again.
At the ring.
At the thing that had changed everything.
Her throat tightened.
“…What did I do?” she whispered to herself.
No answer came.
Only the quiet realization
on settling deep in her chest—
Her life had shifted.
Completely.
And she had no idea how to get it back.
- Writer
- chap_listContents
- likeADD