AN:

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W

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The morning light roused me from my sleep. I blinked open my eyes, feeling momentarily disoriented.

Why was it so bright…?

Panic fluttered in my chest as I opened my eyes wide and took in my surroundings. Rough walls and a hole in the ceiling. Where am I? This was not the cold, dark prison I remembered.

Then, like a storm crashing through my mind, memories of yesterday flooded through my head. My daring escape, the relentless pursuit of my captors, the wild wolves and me getting into the cave. A sense of relief washed over me as realization hit me. I had managed to escape. Despite my body feeling as if a ten-wheeler truck had hit me, I couldn’t help the smile tugging at my lips.

I was free.

Finally free.

Shifting my position, I prepared to get up, only to freeze when something cold and hard pressed against my throat. I looked down, and the metal gleamed in the light. Slowly, my eyes grew wide and my jaw dropped open when I saw what it was. A sword. There was a sword pressing against my throat.

Holy !

The relief I had felt moments ago was now replaced by fear, alarm, and panic. My heart raced like the beat of a pounding drum when something dawned on me.

Did Medea and his men manage to find me while I was sleeping?

My gaze trailed from the sword on the ground to the figure standing before me, from his black boots, black cloak, black breeches, and black jacket. Beneath his jacket, the fabric clung to his body, emphasizing the powerful build underneath.

His hair was black, thick with a wave, and it curled around the turtleneck of his jacket. He had caramel eyes, a pointed nose, and a chiseled jaw. If his face wasn’t so dark at the moment and extremely pissed off, he’d be hot.

A hot, gorgeous human being.

My mind paused, and a strange sense of familiarity washed over me. Had I used those exact words to describe someone before? But before I could delve into that thought, his deep voice sliced through, demanding my attention.

“Who the bloody hell are you?” His words were sharp, his lips pressing into a tight line.

My mouth went dry, fear clutching at my chest. The tip of his sword pressed harder against my throat, and I froze, my voice caught in my throat.

“Who the bloody hell are you?” he repeated, his tone demanding an answer.

“S-Sarani,” I stammered, my voice barely more than a whisper. My gaze flickered to the sword, then back to him.

The sound of my name seemed to draw something fleeting across his eyes, but before I could discern it, his eyes narrowed even further.

“What are you doing in my cave?” His voice was low and dangerous, every word dripping with command.

“I... I didn’t mean to intrude,” I stammered, my thoughts racing as I scrambled for an explanation. “I was... lost.”

The tip of the sword pressed harder against my throat. “Lost, you say?” He retorted, a heavy dose of sarcasm lacing his words, his gaze sweeping over me skeptically.

I knew he knew I was telling a lie. My bare feet, legs, and arms had a patchwork of scratches and minor cuts, my dress was tattered and filthy, and a gash on my forehead had dried blood clinging to it. There was no doubt I didn’t look like someone who had merely lost their way, but someone who had been escaping desperately.

I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry. “I was running from... from someone,” I said, holding his gaze, hoping my eyes conveyed the truth of my words.

He regarded me silently for a moment, his expression unreadable before his gaze darted around.

My brows furrowed as my eyes followed his gaze. I found myself looking at a worktable that was made of slabs of flat rock supported by a short-length cut from the trunk of a tree. I didn’t notice it last night because it was dark. On top of it was a pile of animal bones on the floor beside the table. The table had a shelf under it that had a frying pan, a basic and craggy-looking kettle, a tin, a jug, a cup, a bowl, a spoon, a fork, and a knife.

Why was he looking at…

It was then it hit me.

“I didn’t steal anything. I am not a thief,” I said, feeling offended.

I might not know who I was, but one thing I was certain of was I wasn’t a thief. Besides, there was nothing worth stealing from this place.

The man regarded me, his face still devoid of emotion. “I never accused you of being a thief.”

One of my eyebrows arched incredulously. “You didn’t need to. Your action says it all,” I scoffed.

His eyes narrowed, and I remembered he was still pressing his sword against my neck. I swallowed hard, my lips pressed together, silently hoping that no one would barge in and startle him. The last thing I wanted was for him to accidentally nick me with his blade.

I didn’t endure Medea’s cruelty, escaped from my prison, and survived the attack of the wild wolves, only to meet my end in the hands of a man who looked hot but had an awful character.

When the man’s gaze lowered to my mouth, my heart pounded faster and louder.

Oh my god.

I didn’t want to die in the hands of a man who looked hot but had anger issues and a .

He lowered the sword slightly, though his grip on it remained firm. “You are not my type, so quit looking at me like that,” he said, his voice less hostile but still guarded.

My mouth opened, then closed again. I should have been grateful for the reprieve from the pressure of the blade against my throat, but I couldn’t help but feel offended. I knew I wasn’t that pleasing to the eye, but he didn’t have to be so brutally honest.

“Whom are you running away from?” His voice sliced through my thoughts, drawing my attention back to him.

“My captors,” I replied.

He tipped his head to the side and sent me a questioning look.

I took a deep breath. “I managed to escape from a place where I was held captive.”

“From where?”

I hesitated, uncertainty gnawing at me. Could I trust him? I didn’t know him, and the sword in his hand didn’t inspire confidence. But I had little choice.

“A prison. They kept me locked up, treated me like a slave, and had to do whatever they told me to do. I managed to break free, and then... I searched for a place to rest and stumbled upon your cave.”

His dark gaze bore into me for a few moments longer, looking at me as if he were assessing the truth in my words.

I tried to suppress the shivers that were coursing through me as I held his gaze as steadfastly as I could. It felt like he was peering into the depths of my soul, judging whether I was to be trusted.

His gaze held mine for another beat before he finally sheathed the sword at his side. My shoulders sagged with relief, and I took a ca