CHAPTER TWO
1102 Words
### The Devil's Truth
Emma didn't think.
She just moved.
One step back into the hallway. Then another.
Her heel caught on the rug, and she stumbled, steadying herself against the wall. The cold plaster scraped her palm.
Lucien didn't follow.
He simply stood there, watching.
"Don't," he said.
She ignored him.
Turning on her heel, she ran.
Her feet pounded against the wooden floor as she rushed down the hallway toward the front door. She grabbed the lock and twisted it desperately.
Nothing.
Her stomach dropped.
She had locked it from the inside.
Her breathing came in quick, uneven bursts. She shoved at the door with both hands.
It wouldn't budge.
Footsteps sounded behind her.
Not loud.
Not hurried.
Just... there.
"Emma."
She turned.
Lucien was much closer than she'd expected. One hand rested against the doorframe while the other hung loosely at his side. He hadn't even broken into a run.
"Open it," she demanded.
He didn't answer.
Instead, he closed the distance between them.
She shoved him with both hands.
He barely moved.
Before she could try again, his fingers closed gently around her wrist.
Not painfully.
Just firmly enough to stop her.
"You don't want to do this."
"I want to go back inside," she snapped. "I want to call Marco."
His expression never changed.
"No."
"Then let me go."
He didn't.
Rain hammered against the windows, making the entire house tremble. The air felt heavy, charged with electricity before another strike of lightning.
"Sixty seconds," Lucien said quietly. "I gave you that. You didn't use it."
She twisted her wrist.
He didn't let go.
"Lucien—"
"Don't."
He stepped back, pulling her with him.
She fought harder this time, throwing all her weight against him.
It made no difference.
She stumbled into the wall, and before she could fall, his free hand caught her shoulder.
"Stop fighting."
"Let me go."
"No."
She kicked at him.
He sidestepped the blow with practiced ease and caught her other arm.
Trapped.
Breathless.
Terrified.
"Why are you doing this?" she whispered, hating how small her voice sounded. "What do you think is going to happen?"
His eyes held hers.
"You already know."
She didn't.
But something about the certainty in his voice made her stomach twist.
Then he released one of her arms.
Instinct took over.
She ran.
She barely managed three steps before strong arms caught her around the waist.
He lifted her clean off the ground.
She struggled wildly.
He didn't tighten his grip.
Didn't lose his balance.
Didn't even seem angry.
Only determined.
"Come on," he said quietly.
She swung at him.
He took the hit without flinching.
She tried to bite him.
He turned his head just enough to avoid it.
She hated how calm he was.
With one hand, Lucien unlocked the front door.
The storm exploded inside.
Rain lashed across the hallway, and icy wind wrapped around them.
"Get out," he said.
"I'm not going anywhere with you."
"Good."
His answer caught her off guard.
He wasn't asking.
He simply carried her outside.
She screamed.
The storm swallowed the sound.
Rain stung her skin like tiny needles while the wind whipped her hair across her face. The stone steps were slick beneath Lucien's boots as he carried her through the darkness.
She kicked again.
He never loosened his grip.
"Marco!" she cried.
"Not now."
His voice remained steady beneath the roar of thunder.
A black car waited at the edge of the driveway, its sleek body almost disappearing beneath the rain.
It looked completely out of place.
Lucien opened the passenger door and set her inside.
She immediately threw herself toward the exit.
He shut the door before she could escape.
"Open it!" she shouted, pounding against the glass.
He walked around the front of the car without looking back.
Moments later, the driver's door opened.
The engine came to life.
Emma grabbed the handle.
Locked.
"No..."
The tires rolled across the rain-soaked road.
She fought anyway.
She pulled at the seat belt.
She kicked the dashboard.
She slammed both hands against the window.
"Stop!" Lucien said.
She ignored him.
He kept one hand on the steering wheel while reaching across with the other, gently but firmly pushing her back into her seat before returning his attention to the road.
Outside, the storm swallowed everything.
Streetlights blurred into streaks of gold.
Trees bent beneath the wind.
The house...
Her home...
Disappeared behind sheets of rain.
Panic squeezed the air from her lungs.
This couldn't be happening.
She tried the door again.
Nothing.
The car rounded another sharp bend.
Her shoulder struck the window.
Pain shot through her arm.
The world outside spun.
Her breathing became shallow.
Her vision blurred.
Darkness crept into the edges of her sight.
"Lucien..."
This time it came out as little more than a whisper.
He didn't answer.
The last thing Emma saw was lightning splitting the night sky.
Then everything disappeared.
...
She didn't know how long she'd been unconscious.
Time returned slowly.
Cold.
Silence.
The steady sound of water dripping somewhere nearby.
She opened her eyes.
Stone.
The floor beneath her wasn't wood.
It wasn't carpet.
It was cold, damp stone.
She pushed herself upright, immediately regretting it as pain throbbed through her head.
The room was small.
Gray stone walls surrounded her on every side.
A single heavy wooden door stood opposite her.
High above, a narrow window allowed only the faintest strip of daylight to creep inside.
The air smelled of damp earth, old wood, and rain.
"Marco?"
Her voice echoed softly.
No answer.
She forced herself to stand, using the wall for support.
Every step made her dizzy.
She reached the door and tried the handle.
Locked.
"No..."
Panic surged through her chest.
She pushed harder.
Nothing.
The lock clicked.
Emma spun around.
The door opened.
Lucien stepped inside.
His dark coat still clung to him, damp from the storm, though his expression remained as unreadable as ever.
She instinctively backed away.
He didn't move closer.
"What is this place?" she demanded.
Silence.
She swallowed.
"Why are you doing this?"
Still nothing.
The door closed behind him with a quiet click.
The room suddenly felt much smaller.
"Marco's going to come for me," she said, forcing confidence into her voice. "He's going to find you."
Lucien met her gaze.
"No."
One word.
Nothing more.
Her heart pounded.
"Why?"
This time he stepped forward.
Only once.
Then stopped.
When he finally spoke, his voice was calm.
Almost gentle.
"If you marry my brother tomorrow..."
He held her gaze.
"...you'll be dead before your honeymoon is over."
- Writer
