Chapter 2: Taken
1109 Words
Lina stared at him, her heart racing so fast it hurt.
“I...I don’t even know you,” she repeated, her voice unsteady.
He didn’t release her wrist.
If anything, his grip became firmer - controlled, deliberate, like he was making sure she understood something without saying it out loud.
“That’s the problem,” he said quietly.
Her breath hitched.
“Because I know exactly who you are.”
The words sank into her chest, heavy and confusing. She searched his face for any sign of a joke, a mistake, anything - but there was nothing. Just that same cold calmness, like everything happening right now was already decided.
“I think you’re mistaken,” she said quickly, panic creeping into her tone. “I don’t even know who I am.”
That made him pause.
Just for a second.
His eyes flickered, sharp and observant, scanning her face like he was trying to see past her skin, past her words.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“I… I don’t remember anything,” she admitted, her voice dropping. “Not how I got there, not where I came from… nothing.”
Silence settled between them.
But this time, it felt different.
He wasn’t just looking at her now.
He was studying her.
Really studying her.
His gaze dropped briefly to her arm, where the hospital bracelet rested loosely against her skin. Then back to her eyes, as if trying to match what he knew with what he was seeing.
“You’re lying,” he said flatly.
Her chest tightened. “I’m not.”
For a moment, it seemed like he didn’t believe her. His expression didn’t change, but something behind his eyes shifted - something darker, more calculating.
Then, slowly, he let go of her wrist.
Lina almost sighed in relief, but the tension didn’t leave her body. If anything, it grew worse.
Because now he was standing.
And when he stood, she realized just how intimidating he actually was.
Tall. Broad shoulders. Completely in control.
He walked a few steps away, running a hand through his hair before turning back to her.
“Even if you don’t remember,” he said, his voice calm but firm, “it doesn’t change anything.”
Her stomach dropped.
“What does that mean?”
“It means,” he continued, stepping closer again, “you still saw me.”
Her pulse quickened.
Images flashed in her mind, too fast, too broken.
Glowing eyes.
Blood.
The sound of bones cracking.
Her breath became uneven.
“That wasn’t real,” she whispered, more to herself than to him. “It couldn’t have been....."
“It was,” he cut in.
The certainty in his voice sent a chill through her.
She shook her head slightly, her fingers gripping the sheets. “No… people don’t just - change like that.”
“People don’t,” he said.
The way he said it made her go still.
Because he didn’t include himself in that sentence.
Fear crept up her spine slowly, wrapping around her chest.
“Then what are you?” she asked before she could stop herself.
He didn’t answer immediately.
Instead, his gaze dropped briefly to his hand—the one with the ring. The faint glow she thought she had imagined the night before flickered again, subtle but real.
When he looked back at her, his expression had hardened.
“Something you shouldn’t be involved with.”
The room felt smaller.
The air heavier.
“So let me go,” she said quickly, desperation slipping into her voice. “If I don’t belong in this, then just let me go. I won’t say anything. I swear.”
For a second, something unreadable passed across his face.
Then he shook his head.
“No.”
The word was quiet.
Final.
Her heart dropped.
“You don’t understand,” she said, her voice rising slightly. “I don’t even know who I am. I have nothing. No one. Why would I.....”
“Exactly.”
That one word silenced her.
He stepped closer until he was standing right beside the bed again, his presence overwhelming.
“You have no past. No connections. No one looking for you,” he said, his tone low and controlled. “That makes you unpredictable.”
Her chest tightened.
“And I don’t deal with unpredictable problems.”
“I’m not a problem,” she whispered.
His eyes locked onto hers.
“You are now.”
The words hit harder than she expected.
Before she could respond, he reached for something on the side table and picked it up.
Her hospital file.
He flipped it open briefly, scanning it with quick, efficient movements, then closed it again.
“You’re being discharged tomorrow,” he said.
Her brows furrowed. “What?”
“No identification. No family contact. No medical complications that require extended stay,” he continued, like he was reading straight from it. “They’ll release you.”
Her confusion deepened. “Okay… and?”
“And you’re not going anywhere alone.”
The realization hit slowly.
Then all at once.
“No,” she said immediately, shaking her head. “No, I’m not going with you.”
He didn’t react to her resistance.
Didn’t argue.
Didn’t even look surprised.
He just slipped his hand into his pocket, pulling out something small and metallic.
Her breath caught when she recognized it.
The ring.
Up close, it looked even stranger - dark silver, with faint markings etched into it, almost like they were moving.
He turned it slightly between his fingers.
“You don’t really have a choice,” he said.
Her throat went dry. “What is that supposed to mean?”
His gaze lifted back to hers, steady and unyielding.
“It means,” he said slowly, “you either come with me…”
He paused.
And for the first time since she woke up......
There was something dangerous in his expression that made her pulse spike.
“…or I fix the mistake I made last night.”
Her stomach dropped violently.
The room went silent.
Too silent.
And suddenly, she understood.
He wasn’t protecting her.
He had spared her.
And now......
He was deciding whether that had been a mistake.
Her lips parted, but no words came out.
Her heart pounded as she stared at him, fear and disbelief crashing into each other.
“You’re… you’re threatening me?” she finally managed.
He held her gaze, completely unbothered.
“No,” he said calmly.
Then his voice dropped slightly, colder than before.
“I’m giving you a chance to stay alive.”
- Writer
