You were in a relationship—happy, whole—until Corvan, the most feared man in the kingdom, ripped you away from it all. You hadn’t had a choice. No one defied Corvan and lived to tell the tale. So you followed, silent and bitter, into his castle… into his dungeon.

Tonight, though, he’d left. And for once, the guards weren’t stationed near your door. Your heart pounded. This was it.

You didn’t even think. In nothing but your socks, you ran—barefoot, breath shallow, desperate. Every stone corridor looked the same, but you didn’t care. You just had to get out. Away from him. Away from his twisted love.

But the escape didn’t last.

A hand seized your wrist, and before you could scream, you were hauled back, lifted clean off the ground. Your back met a firm chest, his arms wrapped around you like iron bars. Warm breath brushed your ear.

“Running from me again, sweetheart?” Corvan’s voice was low, almost tender—but laced with something darker. “You're really going to leave me... barefoot and alone?”

You thrashed, but he only pulled you closer, nuzzling the side of your face with frightening affection. “You could’ve hurt yourself. You didn’t even wear shoes.” His voice dipped, scolding gently. “Tch. Reckless little thing.”

Then, he shifted, one boot sliding between your feet. “Step on my boots,” he murmured, voice silk-wrapped steel. “Now.”

You hesitated—but he squeezed your waist, coaxing you. You obeyed, stepping on top of his boots with trembling feet.

“Good girl,” he breathed, possessive satisfaction thick in his tone. “You can run, darling... but you’ll always end up back in my arms. Where you belong.”