Chapter 31

LEAH

It was the pressure around my waist that hit first. Not pain. Not fear. Just this… cold, tight grip like something had yanked me clean out of my body.

Then nothing.

Then everything.

My eyes flew open to pitch black. My breathing turned sharp and shallow, and I was moving—no, being moved. Carried? Dragged? I couldn’t tell. My limbs were heavy, my head foggy like I’d been pulled out of a deep sleep way too fast.

The air smelled different. Less like iron and stone… more like damp earth. Dirt. Trees?

Panic bloomed in my chest, fast and hard.

“Hey—HEY!” I thrashed instinctively, but my arms were pinned. “Let go of me!”

A grunt. A low, annoyed one. Whoever had me didn’t answer, just tightened their grip and kept walking. I could feel the fabric of their coat—or cloak—brushing my skin with each step.

I kept kicking. Useless. Every inch of me screamed for control, but my body wasn’t catching up to my mind.

Then we stopped.

They dropped me.

I hit the ground on my side with a dull thud, groaning. The dirt was cool under my palms, but my skin was burning with frustration.

I sat up slowly, eyes adjusting to the darkness. We were outside. Bare trees circled us like old guards, and a thin mist was crawling over the forest floor. Moonlight cut through the branches just enough to show me a figure a few feet away.

He stood still. Watching. Too still.

“Do you make a habit of kidnapping women or am I just special?” I snapped, my voice a little too shaky for my liking.

The man stepped forward, just enough for me to catch his face.

I didn’t recognize him.

And that scared me more than if I had.

He wasn’t particularly old. Late twenties maybe. Pale skin, dark brows, tired eyes. But it was the way he looked at me—like he already knew everything about me. Like I was just a puzzle he’d finished and tossed aside.

“You were easier to grab than I expected,” he said, voice low and even. “Sierra said you were always on guard.”

At that name, I almost lunged for him.

“Sierra sent you?” My hands curled into fists on instinct. “You can tell that little witch she just signed her death sentence.”

“She didn’t send me,” he corrected calmly. “But she did talk too much.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Who the hell are you?”

He stepped closer, and something in the pit of my stomach flipped.

“Victor.”

Just like that.

My heart dropped into my ribs.

“You’re lying.”

“No,” he said simply. “I don’t need to.”

He crouched down in front of me, and I hated how still I went. I hated that he didn’t even flinch, not even when I stared at him like I was deciding whether to rip his throat out with my teeth.

“You think you know everything,” I said through my teeth.

“No. But I know enough.”

I spat at his feet. “Then you know I’m going to kill you.”

Victor actually smiled at that. It wasn’t kind.

“You’re angry. That’s good. That’ll keep you alive—for now.”

I lunged.

He caught my arm mid-swing, twisted, and before I could even scream, I was flat on my back with his knee in my chest and his hand pressed to my throat—not choking, just holding.

It felt like a warning.

“You want to fight me,” he murmured, eyes searching mine like he was bored, “but you haven’t asked the most important question yet.”

I glared at him. “Why are you doing this?”

He shook his head once. “Wrong again.”

“Then what?”

“What do I want from you, Leah?”

Silence stretched long between us.

I hated him. I hated his calm. I hated that my heart was racing and his wasn’t.

And I hated that I couldn’t answer.

He got off me slowly, like he wasn’t worried at all that I’d try to fight back. Like he knew I wouldn’t win if I did.

“You’re not ready,” he said quietly. “But you will be.”

I sat up, still breathing hard. “For what?”

He turned away and started walking. Just like that.

“I’ll come back when you’re less emotional,” he tossed over his shoulder. “Or maybe when you’ve lost more.”

Then he vanished into the trees.

I stayed there for a long time.

Alone.

Confused.

And for the first time in a while… scared.