Chapter 16: No More Running
726 Words
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Alina’s breath came in shallow, uneven waves as her back pressed against the door—the same door she had failed to walk through.
She had the key. She had the chance.
And yet… she was still here.
Her trembling fingers curled around the cold metal in her palm, the weight of it heavier than before. She couldn’t even bring herself to look up at Viktor, but she could feel him. His presence consumed every inch of the space between them, suffocating and inescapable.
A slow, dark chuckle rumbled from him, and she knew—he knew.
The realization sent a violent shiver through her.
“Tell me, printsessa,” Viktor’s voice was low, taunting. “Why are you still here?”
Alina’s throat tightened. “I—”
She stopped herself. She had no answer.
His boots made a soft sound against the floor as he took a step forward, then another. Alina felt the air shift around her, heat radiating from him as he closed the distance inch by inch.
Until she was trapped.
His body loomed over hers, his scent intoxicating—leather, spice, and something distinctly dangerous.
“You wanted freedom,” he murmured, his tone thick with amusement. “You wanted to run. So why didn’t you?”
She forced herself to look up, meeting his gaze.
And immediately regretted it.
Viktor’s eyes were darker than she had ever seen them, filled with something primal, something raw. The corner of his mouth lifted, but it wasn’t a smile—it was victory.
“Let me go,” she whispered, though it was weak, a pathetic attempt at resistance.
His fingers lifted, brushing against the side of her throat, lingering at her pulse.
It was racing.
He felt it.
She knew he did.
Viktor let out a soft hum, almost thoughtful. “Your body betrays you, printsessa.”
Her stomach twisted. “You’re wrong.”
His other hand moved to the door, palm pressing against it just beside her head. She was fully caged now, completely at his mercy.
Viktor leaned in, his lips a breath away from her ear.
“Then why are you shaking?”
Alina squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to push him away, to move, to fight.
But she didn’t.
She couldn’t.
She felt his breath, the warmth of it, teasing, torturous. “You don’t hate me,” he whispered. “You hate what I make you feel.”
Her fingers twitched, the key slipping from her grasp. It hit the floor with a soft clink.
Viktor stilled. Then, ever so slowly, he stepped back.
She gasped as air rushed back into her lungs, but it did nothing to cool the fire raging inside her.
She wanted to scream at him, at herself.
She had let go of her escape.
And he had seen it.
Viktor knelt, his movements controlled, deliberate. He picked up the key between his fingers, studying it for a long, silent moment.
Then, he lifted his gaze to hers.
“Do you know what this means?”
Alina stayed silent, her nails digging into her palms.
Viktor exhaled through his nose, a mockery of disappointment. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he slid the key into his pocket.
Gone.
Alina’s heart stopped.
No.
A shuddering breath left her lips, her panic rising. “Give it back.”
Viktor smirked. “Nyet.”
Her hands clenched into fists. “You said—”
“I said you had a choice.” His voice was velvet-wrapped steel. “You made it.”
Alina’s chest rose and fell rapidly. “That’s not fair.”
His gaze burned into hers, unwavering. “Life isn’t fair.”
He took another step back, his posture relaxed, controlled. “No more running, Alina.”
Her lips parted, a protest ready, but nothing came.
Because the truth had already been sealed.
She hadn’t run.
And now… she never would.
Viktor turned toward the door, pausing only to glance back at her, his expression unreadable.
“Sleep well, printsessa.”
And then, he was gone, leaving her alone in the room, suffocating under the weight of her own choice.
The key was gone.
Her freedom was gone.
But the worst part?
A small, twisted part of her wasn’t sure she ever wanted it in the first place.
To be continued…
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- Writer
