Her heart pounded against her ribs, her chest heaving as sweat dripped down her temple. She tried to speak, but the words caught in her throat, her breath hitching in shallow gasps. The shadows dragged her forward, pulling her from the faint comfort of the darkness and into the cruel light of the moon. The pale glow illuminated the jagged edges of his figure, casting sharp, menacing lines across his face.
His shadows were a world unto themselves, writhing and alive, their edges flickering with embers like the dying breath of a wildfire. They seemed to pulse with his heartbeat, radiating a heat that made the air shimmer around him. They moved with a feral intelligence, their purpose singular: destruction. They didn't just hold her—they claimed her, wrapping around her wrists and ankles like shackles, searing her flesh until the scent of burning skin hung faintly in the air.
Lena sobbed, her voice broken, her body trembling as the shadows continued to drag her closer to him. Each movement was torture, her twisted ankle screaming with each jarring pull. Tears streamed down her face, her vision blurring as she struggled against the relentless force.
He took a slow, deliberate step forward, his boots echoing against the wooden floor, the sound a cruel counterpoint to her ragged breathing. His expression was one of detached cruelty, as though her suffering was nothing more than a game—a game he was thoroughly enjoying.
"Is this the best you can do?" he taunted, his voice low and dripping with disdain. "Pathetic. You can't even control your own power, and you thought you could run from me?"
The words cut deeper than the shadows ever could, each syllable laced with venom. Lena tried to meet his gaze, to summon even a fragment of defiance, but her body betrayed her. She sagged against the shadows, her limbs too weak to resist. Every nerve in her body screamed in protest, her skin blistering where the shadows touched her, her mind a whirlwind of fear and despair.
His smirk deepened as he closed the distance between them, his shadows shifting to pull her down to his level. Her knees buckled, her neck forced to bow as his presence loomed over her.
"What exactly were you hoping to achieve?" he asked, his voice soft, almost tender, but laced with venom.
He tilted her chin up with a single, gloved finger when she didn't answer, his touch deceptively gentle.
"There we go," he murmured, his breath brushing against her lips. "Much better."
Her heart stuttered in her chest, her voice trembling as she whispered, "What do you want?"
His golden eyes gleamed, his smile sharpening into something predatory. "That," he said, his tone soft but menacing, "is a discussion for another day."
Her body quivered as he leaned closer, his gaze flickering to her wrist. The shadows shifted, pulling her arm forward, and she winced as she felt the sting of torn skin. Blood welled from the reopened stitches, trailing down her wrist in slow, glistening rivulets. His smile faltered, his expression darkening into something far more sinister.
"Interesting," he murmured, his voice low and mocking, cutting through the silence like a blade.
It was slow at first, a thin crimson line trailing down her wrist. The grip of his shadows had been too tight, tearing through her skin and reopening the stitches in her palm. The droplets hit the floor with a soft patter, but his focus was razor-sharp, his eyes darkening as he zeroed in on the wound.
Lena flinched as the shadows slackened just enough to let her crumple to the ground, but her reprieve was short-lived. His hand caught her wrist before she could fully collapse, jerking her upright with a force that sent sharp, searing pain lancing through her twisted ankle. She let out a strangled gasp, her body trembling with the effort to stay upright. Her free hand clawed at his grip, but his hold was unyielding, a vise of pale, cold fingers against her overheated skin.
The air around him was suffocating, oppressive with the heat of his shadows, but his touch was frigid—a cruel contrast that only amplified her torment. His fingers brushed the tender, torn skin of her wrist, smearing the blood that trickled freely. The sight of it seemed to entrance him, his expression darkening as he raised her hand closer.
Lena recoiled, or tried to, but the shadows tightened around her legs, pinning her in place. The jagged burn on her palm throbbed with each pulse of her heartbeat, the scorched skin raw and agonizing. She wanted to scream, to lash out, but her body was limp, her strength drained by his relentless torment. Her ankle throbbed mercilessly, the pain a brutal reminder of her earlier attempts to flee.
He tilted her wrist, watching the blood bead and drip with unnerving fascination. His breath hitched, his lips parting slightly as though savoring the sight alone. Then, with deliberate slowness, he lowered his head. His tongue flicked out, cold as ice against her scalded skin, and she let out a sharp, involuntary cry. The sensation was jarring—a soothing chill against unbearable heat—but it didn't bring comfort. It was calculated, cruel, and intimate in a way that made her stomach churn.
His golden eyes had turned molten, glowing with inhuman light, his pupils narrowing into predatory slits. When he looked at her, it was as though he were gazing upon a prize, something precious and fragile he could break at any moment. His grip on her wrist tightened, sending fresh waves of pain radiating through her arm.
"You bleed so beautifully," he murmured, his voice deceptively calm, each word dripping with cruelty.
Lena's breath hitched, her tears spilling freely as his tongue traced the jagged cut on her palm. The icy touch sent shivers down her spine, but the pain didn't diminish. If anything, it felt heightened, her nerves raw and exposed under his touch.
Her knees buckled again, but his other arm snaked around her waist, pulling her against him with unnerving ease. The fabric of his coat brushed her bare skin—soft, velvet-like, and cool, a stark contrast to the oppressive heat that clung to her. The faint scent of earth and iron lingered on him, invading her senses as she was pressed closer to his chest.
His strength was undeniable, his arm like steel as it supported her trembling form. The crisp, dark layers of his clothing marked him as a man of wealth and status—a black coat with intricate embroidery hugging his broad shoulders, its edges sweeping to his thighs. Beneath it, a silk shirt, deep as midnight, shifted against her cheek as he held her. His skin was pale, almost luminescent in the moonlight, the starkness of it only emphasized by the short, dark hair that framed his face and fell into his smoldering eyes.
His lips curled into a faint, cruel smile as he shifted her weight, the movement pressing her agonizingly closer. "So fragile," he mused, his voice low and deceptively tender. "And yet, you still try to resist. Admirable. Foolish, but admirable."
Lena whimpered as his fingers threaded through her hair, pulling her head back to expose the vulnerable curve of her neck. His touch was deceptively gentle, yet the unspoken promise of pain loomed like a blade over her throat. His breath, warm and deliberate, fanned over her skin as his lips brushed her pulse.
"Please," she whispered, her voice trembling, barely audible. Her chest ached with suppressed sobs, her body frozen in fear.
"Shh…" His tone was soft, almost soothing, as though mocking her terror. The sharp points of his teeth grazed her skin, lingering just enough to send a chill of dread coursing through her. His lips, cold and soft, pressed against her neck, and for a moment, everything else—the pain in her ankle, the burning in her palm, even the terror—was drowned out by the icy sensation.
Her body stiffened as she braced for the inevitable bite. But just as his teeth pressed harder, the doors to the room crashed open, the sound reverberating like a thunderclap.
"Damien, that's enough!" The voice was sharp, commanding, cutting through the oppressive weight of his presence.
Damien froze, his shadows recoiling slightly, their fiery glow dimming as his head snapped up. His molten gaze shifted toward the intruder, annoyance flickering across his face. His grip on Lena loosened, and she crumpled to the floor in a heap, her body shaking violently.