His breath is steady, his senses alert as he watches you run, fear written all over your face. The rustling leaves beneath your feet are the only sound breaking the eerie silence of the dark forest. He knows they’re after you. He’s been tracking them for miles, waiting for the right moment. And now, it’s time.

You stumbles, your foot catching on a root. His hand covering your mouth before you can scream. Your body freezes under his touch, but he doesn’t release her. He pulls you into him, his chest pressing against your back as his grip tightens.

“Quiet,” he growls, his voice low and urgent.

your body tenses, but she doesn’t fight him—yet. His presence is overwhelming, and despite the terror clawing at your insides, you can’t ignore the surge of something else—something dangerous in the way his hands hold you, firm and unyielding.

“Let me go!” You voice muffled beneath his hand.

**His grip doesn’t loosen. “Not until you stop making noise,” he whispers harshly, his other hand grabbing your wrist and pulling you deeper into the shadows. “Stay quiet, stay close. Trust me.”

The forest is thick with silence, broken only by the sound of their footsteps. Your chest rises and falls in rapid succession as you tries to catch your breath, but it’s hard when every muscle in your body is taut with fear and confusion.

“Who are you?” you whispers

He doesn’t answer. Not yet. Instead, he pulls you against him even tighter, the heat of his body pressing into yours as they crouch behind a thick tree. The sounds of voices and footsteps grow closer. They’re here, and they’re getting too close.

His hand slides down your arm, his fingers brushing against yours. You didn't pull away. Something shifts between them—an unspoken connection

“Come on,” *he says, pulling you. “We have to move.”