Chapter 4: Into His Hands
The cart jolted along the uneven forest path, rattling Leona's bruised wrists against the rough wood. Every thud made her wince, but she refused to cry out. Fear was a chain she would not give to anyone, not even these cruel men. She kept her chin high, heart pounding, eyes scanning the dense shadows.
Hours passed. The moon had risen high, pale and cold, casting silver light through the trees. Then the cart came to a halt. The men exchanged anxious glances as a deep, commanding voice cut through the night.
"Bring her inside."
Leona's stomach twisted. She had heard the whispers—the tales of the Vampire King: how his power stretched beyond the human kingdoms, how he claimed what he desired, and how none had ever defied him and lived to tell the tale. And yet here she was, dragged from freedom into his domain, her fate entirely out of her hands.
The massive obsidian gates opened before her, towering over the cart like silent sentinels. Cold wind swept past, carrying a strange mixture of roses and smoke. Shadows danced across the walls, flickering unnaturally as if the building itself was alive.
Leona's fists clenched. I will not kneel. I will not beg. I will not belong to him. Her defiance burned hotter than the fear gnawing at her heart.
The slave sellers hesitated, shuffling nervously as the air seemed to thicken around them. Then, from the deepest shadow of the grand hallway, he appeared. Tall, imposing, exuding a presence so intense it seemed to warp the very air. His silver eyes glimmered in the torchlight, cold and penetrating.
"Welcome," the Vampire King said, his voice smooth and measured, but with an authority that made the walls themselves seem to tremble. "You are mine now."
Leona's chest heaved. Rage and terror collided inside her. "I'm not yours!" she spat, her voice echoing down the corridor. "I'll never be yours!"
He took a step forward, slow and deliberate. The torches flickered as if sensing his power. "We shall see," he replied, his eyes glinting with a mixture of amusement and something darker.
She could feel his gaze on her, assessing, studying, and yet… terrifyingly calm. Her mind screamed to run, to fight, to resist—but the ropes on her wrists, the merciless journey here, and the very air of his domain reminded her that she was trapped.
Leona refused to let her fear dominate. Her defiance flared even brighter. I will not submit to him. I will not be tamed. And yet, a part of her could not deny the strange pull, the awareness that she had entered a world far beyond her understanding, where power was absolute, and she was suddenly the most precious object within it.
As the silence stretched between them, she realized one thing: this was only the beginning. Her captivity, her struggle, her hatred, and perhaps… her heart's unspoken battle with him were all just starting. And she would fight—every step, every moment—without surrender.