Chapter 8:The Punishment She'll Never Forget
892 Words
LENA
She couldn’t stay here.
Not another second.
Not after what she’d done.
Not after she had kissed him.
Lena’s chest tightened, her stomach twisting as the memory tore through her.
She had grabbed him.
She had pulled him down.
And worst of all?
She had wanted it.
The shame was unbearable.
Her fingers trembled as she laced up her boots, her breath shallow and uneven.
She needed to get out.
No matter what it took.
She would not become his.
VALERIAN
She thought she could run.
Again.
Valerian sat in his chair, one leg stretched out lazily, his fingers drumming against the polished wood of his desk.
He could hear her.
The quiet shuffle of her boots.
The controlled, shaky breaths as she tried to steady herself.
The frantic beating of her treacherous little heart.
He smirked.
He let her go.
Because this time—
He wouldn’t stop her at the door.
This time, he would let her get far enough to taste freedom.
And then?
He would ruin her.
LENA
The halls were empty.
The guards weren’t there.
Valerian was nowhere in sight.
Her heart pounded as she slipped through the corridors, her breath coming in short, quiet bursts.
Her body screamed at her to move faster, but she forced herself to go slow—silent.
This was her chance.
Her last chance.
She reached the heavy iron doors of the castle.
Her fingers curled around the handle.
She pulled.
And—
It opened.
She didn’t stop to question it. Didn’t stop to think.
She ran.
Into the forest.
Into the dark.
Into the trap he had set.
VALERIAN
He waited.
Let her run.
Let her believe she had escaped.
Let her believe she had won.
Valerian exhaled slowly, stretching his fingers as he stood.
It was always more fun when they thought they had a choice.
But there was no choice.
Not for her.
Not anymore.
LENA
She ran until her lungs burned.
Until her legs shook.
The castle was far behind her now.
The scent of pine and damp earth filled her senses, the cold night air biting at her skin.
She should have been relieved.
Should have felt free.
But something was wrong.
Too quiet.
Too still.
The air around her felt charged, heavy, suffocating.
Like she was being watched.
Lena slowed to a stop, chest heaving.
And that was when she heard it.
A voice.
A whisper.
Right behind her.
"Go on, then."
Lena spun around.
He was there.
Leaning against a tree.
Watching her with those golden, predatory eyes.
Casual. Amused. As if he had been there the whole time.
Her stomach dropped.
"Why aren’t you stopping me?" she forced out, her voice hoarse.
Valerian’s smirk deepened.
"I don’t need to," he murmured.
Lena’s pulse thundered.
Because that was when she felt it - The heat. The ache.
The slow, unbearable burn curling low in her belly.
It was sudden.
Violent.
Like a fire licking through her veins, sinking into her bones.
Her knees buckled.
A strangled gasp tore from her throat.
No.
No, no, no—
"What… did you do to me?" she whispered.
Valerian exhaled, pushing off the tree, slowly walking toward her.
He didn’t answer.
Didn’t need to.
Because she knew.
It wasn’t a spell.
It wasn’t a drug.
It was him. His presence. His power.
The very bond that tied them together.
A bond she had tried to outrun.
A bond that was now punishing her for it.
Lena trembled, her body betraying her as a wave of heat rolled through her.
She tried to fight it.
Tried to breathe through it.
But it was too much.
And Valerian?
He was enjoying every second.
He came to a stop in front of her, tilting his head.
"Go on," he said softly. "Run."
Lena’s fingers dug into the earth, her body shuddering.
She couldn’t.
She could barely stand.
Valerian crouched down, his face inches from hers.
"Tell me," he murmured. "What is it you need, little wolf?"
Lena bit back a whimper, hating him, hating herself, hating this.
She wouldn’t say it.
She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
Valerian reached out, brushing his fingers over her throat, down to her collarbone.
Lena gasped.
Not from pleasure.
From agony.
Because he barely touched her.
Just the lightest brush.
Not enough.
Not even close to enough.
The realization shattered her.
Valerian leaned in, his lips a breath away from hers.
"You feel it, don’t you?" he whispered.
Lena’s chest rose and fell rapidly, her body betraying her.
Yes.
Goddess, yes.
The ache was unbearable.
The need consuming.
She hated him.
Hated how easily he unraveled her.
And he was still not touching her.
Not really.
Not enough.
Her hands fisted in the dirt.
She refused to beg.
Refused to give in.
But Valerian was patient.
He let her suffer.
Let her burn.
And when he saw the moment her defiance wavered—
When he saw the first crack of desperation in her eyes—
He smiled.
And then—
He stood up.
And walked away.
Lena choked on a breath.
Her body screamed in protest.
Her hands clawed at the ground, her lips parting in a soundless plea.
But he didn’t stop.
Didn’t turn back.
Didn’t touch her.
Didn’t give her what she needed.
And that—
That was the worst punishment of all.
- Writer
