Bound by Sin
1213 Words
I turn around, swallowing my fear. If I run now, maybe…
“Tell me, Nephilim,” his voice makes my skin crawl, “what did you do to be running like this?”
I can’t help a dry laugh. “There’s no angel in my family.”
✧
“Are you sure?” He tilts his head, sincere. That’s what scares me most. My feet go cold as he scans me from head to toe, like a butcher sizing up meat.
I take two steps back. He doesn’t move, just follows my retreat with his gaze, his fingers still buried in Nina’s fur.
Shit. s**t. Tyler wouldn’t forgive another escape attempt. If he catches me, it’s game over. I glance at the trail. Ten steps. That’s all.
✧
“You’re really going to do this?” Caim asks, his voice almost blending with the wind.
“Do what?” My own voice comes out louder than I’d like.
✧
He rises slowly.
Every movement is calculated, heavy, yet elegant—like something so massive shouldn’t move with such precision. My eyes trace from his feet up to his broad shoulders, muscles rippling under skin etched with black runes and symbols, randomly covering every inch.
Nina slips from his lap and lands on the ground, indifferent, as if saying, “Good luck.”
✧
I stand frozen, unable to look away from his body—every arm, every vein, every muscle is hypnotic. His breathing is slow, controlled, but it vibrates in the air.
He tilts his head and looks me up and down. He’s huge. Gigantic.
He could catch me without effort, crush any resistance I might offer.
A crooked smile forms on his lips, mocking.
✧
Our eyes meet—and even amidst my adrenaline and fear, an unexpected wave hits me. He’s the embodiment of sin in flesh and bone, and I can’t deny he’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.
“One step forward,” his voice, deep and low, reverberates through my body. “Or will you let me catch you without a fight?”
I don’t give him a chance to repeat it—I bolt into the forest.
✧
I veer left, trying to put distance between us. Every branch that scratches my face, every stone that slips under my feet, makes my heart pound faster. My breath burns in my lungs, my muscles scream, but I can’t stop. The car radio still plays the same song.
But the voice is wrong—thick and sharp at once, like two people singing together.
🎵 “The sky is just the sky…” 🎵
The music stutters on certain syllables, as if someone’s manipulating each word.
🎵 “You-you-you are my only love…” 🎵
🎵 “My only, my only…” 🎵
✧
I turn, and Caim is behind me. Unhurried.
He doesn’t run, just watches me with boredom as I try to widen the gap between us.
And yet, he seems to close it.
I veer left again, frantic. He doesn’t react. The headlights are there, almost within reach.
“Let’s see if you make it before the chorus.”
✧
The car comes into view. I can almost touch it.
And then…
🎵 “Destiny…” 🎵
…the music stops. The headlights go out.
“What the f**k!” I yell as something coils around my ankle, tightening like a hungry snake. I look down: dark, pulsing shadows moving toward me. I take a deep breath, kicking uselessly. They climb up my legs, curious, leaving a trail of grime.
✧
“What do you want?” I say, too scared to look at him.
He stays silent.
“This isn’t real, it can’t be!” I whisper.
Desperate, I close my eyes and clasp my hands—or try to, as bushes tangle around my wrists, binding me.
“Our Father, who art in heaven…” I begin, voice trembling, recalling the nights I watched *The Exorcist* alone.
✧
Caim tilts his head, red eyes gleaming with amusement. He clasps his hands too, mimicking me, but there’s something terrifying in his stance.
“…Hallowed be thy name…” he continues, his voice sweet, almost angelic, yet dripping with mockery.
“Are you mocking my prayer?” I snap, adrenaline making my voice shake.
✧
“Fair. But the ‘deliver us from evil’ part is pure irony, isn’t it?” He laughs, low and rough, the sound echoing through the trees. “I’m the fourth prince of Hell, Hazel… and you’ll exorcise me with a prayer?”
My throat dries up, my voice trembles: “And… what are you doing here?”
✧
He grows serious, his eyes locked on mine. “Oh, Hazel… here’s the funny part. Some i***t summoned me in a love-binding ritual. A prince helping with that is like calling a CEO to clean a coffee stain. Ridiculous!”
Before I can react, the branches tremble and fall, sliding across the ground as if disapproving.
Huge hands grab my hair, yanking my head back with calculated force. I’m forced to face him. Every muscle in his arm seems carved from stone.
✧
Caim leans in, his face nearing my neck, breathing in my scent with unsettling curiosity. A shiver runs down my spine.
A soft kiss… then his tongue. I gasp uncontrollably. He growls low, and I can’t escape the sensation coursing through me.
His hot breath sends shivers, each touch probing my limits.
“It’s been a thousand years since I’ve been in one…” he murmurs, gently biting my earlobe, drawing involuntary shivers. “When you have all the women of Hell at your disposal, even sin loses its thrill.”
✧
He shifts his touch, fingers sliding through my scalp, pulling my lips to his.
“But you…” he whispers, “I want to lose myself in you until I forget my own name.”
My body burns, as if combusting spontaneously.
“I have to go,” I nearly beg, but he doesn’t back off.
“You belong to me now, Hazel. You seduced me the moment you entered the forest,” he wets his lips.
✧
He leans closer, brushing his lips against mine.
“I’ll devour you. Your soul. Your body. Everything’s mine now.”
He advances without asking, his lips hot against mine, his tongue invading mercilessly as his hand tangles in my hair. His hands slide to my waist, pulling me closer, pressing every curve against his overwhelming strength. The kiss is cruel, wet, urgent, each touch igniting my skin.
I barely recognize the sounds escaping me.
✧
When he finally pulls back, a thread of saliva still connects us. I can’t pull away. I don’t want to.
He grips my chin, firm, his eyes blazing into mine.
“I’ll take you to Hell and f**k you every day, little one,” his eyes glow like live coals. I feel his hot, sweet breath, tinged with sulfur, brushing my lips. “And when your body can’t take more…”
A hand slides down my neck, firm yet surprisingly gentle, closing around my throat.
“I’ll do the same to your soul.” His tone is almost tender, but heavy with threat.
- Writer
