A failed attempt
1095 Words
FARAH
I wake up suddenly, my eyes slowly adjusting to the dark room.
I’m on the floor, no longer in the cell—yet this is still a prison all the same. I’m in Caspian’s private quarters.
After he’d made his chilling threat over the guard’s life, he ordered that I be brought here.
After I was dragged inside, I’d curled up in a corner on the floor and cried myself to sleep, unable to forgive myself for what happened.
The poor man had only been trying to do his job. And somehow, I’d managed to drag him down with me, unleashing the Lycan’s wrath on him instead. The weight of it still crushes my chest.
Those silver chains tearing into his skin, his bloodied face, the way he’d looked at me through that swollen eye—it all replays endlessly in my mind.
The realization that I’m not alone hits me all at once. I don’t know how I didn’t notice it sooner, because his presence is impossible to miss. It’s magnetic. Suffocating.
I lift my head, and with the faint sliver of moonlight filtering through the cracks in the blinds, I can just make out Caspian’s massive form slumped in a chair. One thick arm is flung over his head, his heavily muscled, tattooed chest bare.
I don’t know when he entered the room. But the sight of him here, so calm, so at ease—paired with the steady sound of his breathing fills me with a burning rage.
I want to strangle him.
How can he sleep so peacefully after everything he’s done to me?
He doesn’t deserve peace.
He doesn’t deserve to breathe.
I haven’t seen him since he left that guard chained and battered in the courtyard.
“An example for the others that might ever think to defy me,” he’d said, his voice an emotionless monotone as he’d turned away from the broken man. “Take her to my quarters.”
When I’d been dragged past him, I’d found my voice long enough to scream the question I’d only whispered to myself at him. “What do you want from me?”
He’d stopped then. Turned. Those cold blue eyes had locked onto mine with such intensity I’d felt it like a physical blow.
“You can choose to pretend you don’t remember, but you’re going to pay for each and every one of your sins. I’ll make sure of it.”
The memory replays in my mind, vivid and horrifying, feeding my hatred until it feels endless. The cruel lesson he forced me to witness, the way he’d looked at me while making sure I understood my place.
I still don’t understand what he means. What sins? What could I have possibly done to deserve this nightmare? But the certainty in his voice, the cold conviction in those dark blue eyes—it terrifies me more than the threats themselves.
I know, with terrifying certainty, that if I ever get the chance, I won’t hesitate to kill him. Because if I don’t, I’ll be the one who ends up dead.
My heart pounds as I realize this might be the most vulnerable I’ll ever see him.
This is my best chance.
It must be well past midnight. The night is quiet. Too quiet.
I should make my move.
Slowly, I push myself up. I’m so sore and weak I have to take a moment to steady myself. The cold floor bites into my bare feet. I move carefully toward the door, holding my breath, praying with everything in me that he doesn’t wake.
I wonder if he locks his door at night.
I test the old-fashioned handle.
It turns easily beneath my hand.
With aching slowness, I crack the door open. I glance back at him, but he hasn’t stirred. His breathing remains deep and even, like nothing in the world could touch him.
“Remember that you did this,” his voice echoes in my memory as I slip into the hallway. “And the more you try to resist, the more you try to defy me, the more people around you will suffer.”
I close the door silently behind me. Then I stand still, letting my eyes adjust to the gloom.
The building isn’t large, it only has about three rooms. One of them has to be the kitchen.
I move through the space carefully, and even in the dim light, I can see the elegance of the place. Details I hadn’t noticed before stand out now. The decor is tasteful. Refined. Whoever designed this place has an eye for beauty.
It feels wrong somehow—that a monster like him would surround himself with such beauty.
I finally find the kitchen.
I open a drawer, feeling around until my fingers close around the handle of a small, sharp knife. It’s not much, but it will have to do.
One chance.
I grip it tightly. My hands tremble, and I force myself to breathe slowly until they steady.
“What sins?” I’d asked him, my voice breaking. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
He’d smiled then. A cold, cruel curve of his lips that held no warmth. “Then your suffering will be all the sweeter when your memory finally returns.”
I shake the memory away and make my way back.
I push the door open and slip inside.
Caspian is still there, his breathing deep and even. Holding my breath, I move closer.
Nothing could be quieter than my steps across the cold floor. I can hear my heartbeat pounding in my ears—loud, frantic.
I’ve watched him from a distance. I’ve seen his intensity. His ferocity. The way everyone snaps to attention when he enters a room. The way they obey him without question.
I’ve seen the intelligence in his eyes.
And of course, I’ve seen his massive, powerful body.
I don’t want a fight with this man.
I know I can’t afford a single mistake.
Caspian’s head is tipped back against the chair, his throat exposed. Dark hair falls across his face. His lips are slightly parted. His breathing hasn’t changed—it’s still steady, calm.
But I’m about to put an end to it.
I raise my right hand, lifting the knife above his neck. For a brief second, I can’t stop myself from looking at his face one last time.
That’s when I realize—
He’s no longer asleep.
Dark blue eyes stare straight up at me.
Wide open.
Locked onto mine.
- Writer
