CHAPTER 003
1391 Words
From Leonid's point of view,
It began with an unusual report—rogue activity along the border. However, it wasn't just any rogue activity that caught our attention.
"She moved like she wasn't even real," my scout had stated. Left a claw imprint on the rock. There was frost in mid-April.
I initially assumed he was inebriated. The second report arrived at last. Third, then.
That evening I did not sleep.
As the snow fell harder than it had in years, I watched out the study window. Despite the tranquility of my surroundings, an ancient force was stirring beneath the surface. Something antiquated.
She came from the forest, barefoot and bleeding, and her look caused men to forget how to breathe.
"She's not one of ours," Mikhail said, putting out the plan. And what does she represent if she isn't a rebel?
I never responded.
Given my prior knowledge.
My chest contracted as I watched the fire crackle in the fireplace. It happened again. The sensation was akin to someone reaching deep within and pulling on a hidden object. Something I used to long kill.
"Do you want her brought in?" Mikhail begged.
No. I want her alive, I said. And I would want her chained.
The chains had a silver-coated covering. is not in line with cruelty. terrified. I had witnessed the extent of what she was capable of doing. I had personally experienced it. made it through. Only barely.
The men hauled her in around daybreak. She appeared to be half dead. Blood covered her skin; frost hung to her lashes. Despite her broken blue lips, she was still breathing.
Standing over her silently was I.
She had beauty. It wasn't her beauty that captivated me; rather, it was her familiarity. Her familiarity was like a mirror reflecting something I had lost.
One of the guards pushed her. "Still breathing."
"She's not a wolf," another said. "Too, a curse has befallen her.
Perhaps she is cursed.
“Or worse,” I said, kneeling down beside her.
That’s when her eyes opened.
Brilliant.
Burning is not ideal; it is not golden.
I didn’t flinch, but something inside me pulled back.
“Who are you?” I asked.
She didn’t answer.
Just smile. I then
Then passed out.
The cell was cold, but I didn’t want her anywhere else.
“She’s dangerous,” Viktor muttered.
“She’s weak,” I said.
“For now.”
I looked at her again through the bars. Chains wrapped around her wrists, tight but not enough to cut her skin. Her chest rose and fell slowly, steadily. It seemed as though she had just fallen asleep.
But I knew better.
I’d seen monsters sleep before.
She was no monster.
And yet...
“Find out everything you can,” I said. “I want to know where she came from, who she ran from, and what the hell she is.”
“She’s not marked,” Viktor added. “No pack. No scent.”
“Exactly.”
He paused before asking, “What if she’s from them?”
My jaw clenched. “Then we burn the forest down.”
Later that night, I couldn’t sleep.
I poured myself a drink, walked down the hall, and stopped in front of her cell again.
She was awake now. She sat up and stared at the floor.
“You’re not from here,” I said.
Silence.
“You crossed the northern woods. No one survives that.”
Still nothing.
“You killed something out there, didn’t you?”
Her eyes flicked up. “What makes you think it wasn’t the other way around?”
I didn’t smile. But inside, I almost did.
“You’re not scared,” I said.
“Should I be?”
“Yes.”
She leaned back against the wall, voice soft. “Then chain me tighter.”
Something shifted then.
I hated it.
That pull. The pull was undeniable and powerful. It seemed as though fate was manipulating me once more.
She seems to have been placed here.
She seemed to be meant for something I hadn't yet figured out.
“Tell me your name,” I said the next night.
“You first.”
“Leonid Romanov”.
That made her pause.
“Why does that name feel like a ghost?”
I didn’t answer.
Instead, I watched her. The curve of her jaw revealed the fire hidden behind those tired eyes.
“You remind me of someone,” I said.
She c****d her head. “Was she chained to your wall too?”
That stung more than I expected.
“She died,” I said. “Because I let her.”
Her gaze didn’t soften.
G She wasn't in need of rescue.
She wasn’t here to be saved.
Mikhail came back with news.
“No records,” he said. “No sightings before two weeks ago. But there’s a report—an old one—from the East. The story concerns a girl who fled from a m******e. Burnt the entire village down. Left nothing but bones and ash.”
“When?”
“Two years ago.”
I looked at her again.
It couldn’t be.
Could it?
***
She started speaking in dreams.
I heard her. I don’t know how, but I did.
She whispered names. She would cry out in her sleep. Occasionally she spoke to someone who wasn’t there.
“Papa, please.”
“Don’t leave me.”
“I would rather not be this.”
The walls weren’t thick enough to keep her pain out.
And somehow, I couldn’t turn it off.
I dreamed of fire.
The image was that of a young girl with blood on her hands.
A crown shattered beside her.
I had a friend who turned his back on me.
And a promise made to someone who never planned to keep it.
“You’ve been broken,” I told her on the fifth night. “But you’re not done.
She looked at me. “You speak like you know me.”
“I don’t.”
“But you want to.”
There was more than she knew.
We brought food.
She hadn’t eaten for two days. Then she started. Slowly.
She wasn't starving.
Like she didn’t trust it.
Or us.
“Are you ever going to tell me what you are?” I asked.
She gently strained her wrists in the silver, emitting a soft hiss. “Something I never asked to be.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one I’ve got.”
I sent the others away that night.
She looked up, worn out but calm. “Here to torture me alone now?”
“No. I’m here because I can’t stop thinking about you.”
That surprised her.
It surprised me too.
She blinked slowly. “What exactly do you think about?”
“Why do you feel like a missing piece?”
Her smile wasn’t soft. “Maybe you’re just lonely.”
“I’ve been lonely a long time. You’re different.”
“I’m dangerous.”
“I know.”
And I still didn’t walk away.
She shifted in the chains, the movement pulling her thin shirt tight across her chest.
She noticed my attention.
“You’re not exactly subtle,” she whispered.
“Neither are you.”
Her lips parted just slightly.
“Touch me,” she said. “See what happens.”
I didn’t move.
I couldn’t tell if she was daring me—or warning me.
Maybe both.
“You’re not a prisoner to me,” I said.
“No?” she tugged the chains.
“You’re a question.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Then maybe you’re not ready for the answer.”
I walked away before I did something stupid.
But the feel of her voice stayed in my blood like heat I couldn’t shake.
***
Then, the explosion came.
At dawn.
They breached the east wall.
My men scrambled.
She was still in her cell.
Too calm.
I burst in.
She was standing now.
Not just standing.
Glowing.
Her eyes sparkle with a golden intensity. She radiates power in waves.
“What the hell are you?” I whispered.
She turned to me, her head tilting slightly.
“I’m what they made me,” she said.
And then everything went black.
- Writer
