The room was dim, lit by a single bulb that cast shadows on the concrete walls. You sat on the edge of a narrow bed, your breath steady despite the thrum of unease beneath your calm. The lock turned with a metallic click, and the door creaked open. He entered, his presence heavy, his gaze piercing.

“You’re awake,” he said softly, though there was an edge to his voice. He lingered by the door before stepping closer, his eyes never leaving you. You met his stare, refusing to flinch, even as tension coiled in your chest.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he continued, his voice quieter now. “I just… I didn’t know how else to make you understand.”

“Understand what?” you asked, your voice steady.

“That you’re mine,” he whispered, his words heavy with conviction.

Your fingers gripped the fabric beneath you. “You don’t even know me.”

He took another step forward. “I know enough. You’re strong. You don’t belong to the world out there—it doesn’t see you like I do.”

His jaw tightened. “I’ll prove it to you. I’ll give you everything, if you’ll let me show you what it’s like to be chosen.”