Chapter 11
You know that thing people say about silence being peaceful? Like it’s supposed to be soothing, healing, some zen-level spa day for your soul? Yeah.
Those people never tried sneaking out of a fortress owned by a bloodthirsty psychopath with a god complex and a surveillance system that could probably rival the Pentagon. Because tonight, silence didn’t feel peaceful. It felt like a predator holding its breath.
The hallway outside my room was pitch black. No footsteps, no flickering light, and not a single sound, just the drumbeat of my own pulse and the whisper-soft slide of my bare feet against the polished floors.
I didn’t dare breathe fully. Just small, controlled sips of air, like even my lungs might betray me.
My hand shook as I reached into my bun and slid out the hairpin. It was my makeshift key, my last shot at freedom. Every second felt like a countdown.
Click. The lock gave, smooth and clean, like it had been waiting for me to find the right moment. I exhaled so slowly it hurt. This was it. No turning back. I slipped out like a shadow, the door falling closed behind me with a whisper that might as well have been a scream.
Keep it together, Lyra.
I moved fast but careful, hugging the walls like I belonged there, counting every step. I’d studied this place for days, every fake walk to “clear my head,” every glance over my shoulder, like a prisoner memorizing every bolt, every blind spot.
It all led to the side door, the only one without a camera. My fingers trembled as I bent to pick the lock. This one was easier.
Which, honestly, was insulting. Like no one thought anyone would even try to escape. Wrong.
The bolt clicked and just like that, the night air slammed into me, icy, real, freeing. I almost cried, laughed and screamed all at the same time. Instead, I ran. The cold stung my skin, branches clawed at my legs, but none of it mattered. I could taste freedom.
And then I saw them: two guards. They were silent and still, their eyes scanning the area.
I slammed to a stop so fast I nearly slipped. One of them shifted, just enough to make my stomach drop. I ducked behind a tree, lungs on fire, knees locked in place.
Please don’t hear me. Please don’t smell me. Please don’t see how close I came to getting out.
The guard paused, tilted his head, just slightly. And then… moved back on. I didn’t breathe until I slid backward, step by step, like I was defusing a bomb with my whole body. I slipped back through the door, re-locked it with numb fingers, and fell against the wall like my spine couldn’t hold me up anymore.
I just sat there, shaking. My back hit the cold wall as my breath stuttered out of me, one shaky gasp after the other. I pressed my palm to my chest like I could shove the panic back down.
I had been so close. Freedom was right there. I could still feel the wind in my lungs. But it is gone now. Just like that. And maybe I was stupid… because even after all of that, I still checked the door again.
I crawled to it slowly, quietly and cracked it open just enough to peek through the dark hallway. The same stillness and silence. I held my breath as I stepped my feet outside, more careful this time.
‘One more try,’ I told myself. ‘One more check before I gave up for the night.’
Then I felt it. A breath behind me. The hairs on the back of my neck rose before my body even reacted. I turned around and there he was. Pierce.
He’s standing behind my back like he’d been watching the entire time. Like he already knew what I’m planning and he just wanted me to try to escape being his hostage.
The look in his eyes wasn’t rage. It was so much worse. When he reached for me, I bolted but I didn’t get far. The second I spun around, his hand caught my arm and slammed me back against the nearest wall.
“Going somewhere, little fox?” he asked, voice low, almost soft. Psychotically calm.
I thrashed. “Let me go!”
He didn’t budge. His forearm pinned across my collarbone, pressing me into the surface like I belonged there. “Scream as much as you want,” he said, “let me enjoy it.”
“Get off me!” His grip tightened, and his face dropped closer to mine, breath brushing my jaw.
“You think you’re clever,” he whispered. “You think this is a game. It’s not.”
His other hand slid up my arm until his fingers brushed the bite mark on my neck and I flinched.
“You feel that?” he asked, voice sickeningly gentle. “That’s not just a scar, that’s my claim.” He leaned in closer. “And you can scream, cry, fight, run… it won’t change a damn thing.”
“I’m not yours to keep,” I spat.
He laughed, just once, dark and sharp. I froze when his other hand found my wrist and pinned it to the wall beside my head. “You can run again, Lyra, I’ll let you try. Hell, maybe next time you’ll make it farther. Maybe to the road. Maybe to the fence. But it won’t matter anyway.”
He stared straight into me like he could see every lie I told myself. “Because I will always bring you back.”
I wanted to scream, to fight, to claw my way free, but his voice dropped again, this time a whisper right against my lips.
“When you try this shit with running away again… I’ll chain you to my bed. I’ll fuck you to the point that your own legs wouldn’t be able to hold you anymore. The only thing they will be capable of—to spread wide for me to take you over and over again.”
My throat closed. He didn’t say it like a threat, it was more like a promise, an already known future.
“And you know what the worst part is?” he asked, letting his mouth barely graze my cheek as I squirmed. “You’ll fucking love it.”
I slapped him with a free hand as hard as I could. “I hate you!”
But even then he didn’t flinch, this only deepened his smile.
My heart slammed against my ribs as he finally pulled back, eyes locked to mine like he was daring me to lie to him. I didn’t. Because I couldn’t.
Not when my skin still burned from where he touched me. Not when my body was treacherous and trembling, was still reacting to his. He stepped back slowly.
“Go back inside,” he said, voice empty of warmth. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”
He released me like it was his choice and just stood there, eyes still burning into me as I stumbled back toward the door. He didn’t chase me and stop me, just whispered after me like a curse. “You’ll come back. Even if I have to drag you.”
