MAKE ME YOURS

Emerald’s lungs burned as she sprinted through the courtyard, the hem of her dress tearing against stone. Her pursuers’ footsteps echoed behind her — too close. She darted around the marble fountain, water splashing her ankles. Maybe she could lose them in the maze garden. Maybe— “Emerald! You can’t run forever!” Jason’s voice cracked like a whip across the night. She slammed against the crumbling wall, clamping a hand over her mouth to muffle her sobs. Her heart hammered so loud she was sure he’d hear it. Footsteps slowed. Closer. Closer. “You were always meant to be my bride,” Jason’s voice dropped, dangerously soft now. He was right behind the wall. “Fighting it only delays the inevitable.” “No.” The word tore from her throat before she could stop it. “I’ll *never* be yours.” Silence. Then a dark chuckle that made her blood run cold. “We’ll see about that, little wife.” “Emerald, you can’t change that,” Jason’s voice was calm. Too calm. Like he already knew how this ended. “Oh yeah?” She spun to face him, chin high despite the tremor in her knees. “Watch me.” The words had barely left her mouth when she saw them — two of Jason’s guards flanking the courtyard entrance, their black suits stark against white marble. Jason didn’t even have to speak. He lifted two fingers. A simple signal. The guards moved. Her heart slammed against her ribs. She’d underestimated him. Again. “I’m not that simple, Jason!” she called out, already backing toward the archway that led to the street. Her voice cracked, but she forced bravado into it. Let him think she wasn’t terrified. Let him think she had a plan. She didn’t. She turned and ran. The courthouse doors burst open under her palms and the midday sun blinded her for half a second. Too long. Behind her, boots pounded stone. The guards were faster than they looked. “Stop her!” Jason’s command echoed, but Emerald was already weaving through the traffic circle outside, lungs burning. Car horns blared. Someone yelled. She didn’t look back. Up ahead — salvation. A crowd of people huddled under the bus stop awning, waiting, oblivious. Businessmen on phones. Mothers with strollers. Students with backpacks. Emerald dove into the center of them, yanking her silk shawl over her hair, making herself small. Making herself invisible. The scent of exhaust and cheap perfume choked her as she pressed between two strangers. “Please,” she whispered to no one. “Please don’t see me.” The guards reached the bus stop three seconds later. She held her breath. “She went this way!” one barked into his radio. “Check the crowd!” Emerald squeezed her eyes shut. Her father’s face flashed in her mind. *“The Harrisons own us now, Emerald. The debt is too big. You marry Jason, or we all go to prison.”* Marriage. To Jason Harrison. The man with eyes like winter and a reputation carved in ice. The man who’d shown up at her father’s office with a contract and a smirk, as if he were buying property. Not a wife. Never. A guard brushed past her, his sleeve grazing her arm. She didn’t flinch. Didn’t breathe. “Anything?” A different voice. Jason. He was here. “No, sir. The crowd’s too thick. She could be anywhere.” Silence. Then footsteps. Slow **Jackson's House** Boss, one of the earlier guards called. “You came back early,” he said, sipping from his drink. “Let me guess, she escaped?” he added. “Yes, boss,” the guard replied. Jackson dropped his cup and picked up a gun instead, pointing it at one of the guards. “Boss, what—” “Examine the weapons we tried, boss. She escaped into the midst of the crowd,” the other guard argued. “I understand,” Jackson said. “You do?” the first guard asked. “I understand that you are weak,” Jackson replied. One shot rang out, then another as bullets fell. “And weak people are not meant to live,” he added, facing a shaking maid holding a tray. “So are you— are you scared of people?” he said, shouting down the maid as the tray clattered on the marble floor. “I will get to Emerald,” he said. “I mean it,” he said, determined to fulfill his word.