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My mind raced, every cell screaming for me to run. To get the hell out of Dodge before I ended up as undead dinner. The apparition of the woman, the one who'd led me here, shimmered in my peripheral vision—a spectral warning or a guide? Either way, I owed her one.
I crept back to my room, hyper-aware of every creak and sigh the old mansion exhaled. It felt like the walls were closing in, the shadows reaching for me with Nash's hands. But I wouldn't be caught—not again. I slid open the window, the night air a slap of reality on my flushed skin.
I hoisted myself onto the ledge. With a last look at the opulent prison that reeked of oil paint and vampire bullshit, I dropped down, my bare feet hitting the ground with a soft thud. Each step away from the mansion was liberation, the cool grass beneath my toes spelling out a path to reclaiming my fucked-up life.
Sorry, Nash. But you can keep your fangs to yourself.
I bolted, my lungs burning with the cold bite of the night and my heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs. The mansion's grandeur was nothing but a shadowy blur as I sprinted across the courtyard, the taste of freedom tangling bittersweet on my tongue.
Just as the edge of the woods teased me with its dark embrace, the world exploded into glaring white light. Floodlights snapped on like a goddamn Broadway show featuring me as the unwilling star. A shiver of dread rippled down my spine. Nash knew. The bastard had figured it out.
"Shit!"
My legs pumped harder, feet slipping on the dew-slick grass as I dove for the cover of the trees. Branches clawed at me, snagging my hair and clothes like desperate fingers trying to drag me back to hell.
"Running only excites me more, Celeste!" His voice, a dark melody infused with anger, slithered through the leaves. It was close, too fucking close.
"Go to hell, Nash!" I spat back, dodging a low-hanging branch that seemed hell-bent on taking my eye out. But the bastard was playing with me—cat to my mouse, predator to prey.
"Your fear... it's intoxicating." His taunt feathered against the nape of my neck, ghosting over my skin despite the distance between us. "You don't understand what you're running from—or to."
Like I give a shit about your psycho riddles! My thoughts were jagged, cutting through the panting breaths that scorched my throat. Every footfall, every snap of twig underfoot, was rebellion. I wasn’t about to be anyone’s snack, vampire or not.
The woods became our twisted arena—a perverse game of hide and seek where every shadow could be his, every whisper of wind his breath upon my skin. My pulse hammered in my ears, echoing the primal drumbeat of this sick dance.
"Face it, Celeste, there's no hiding from me," he growled, his voice vibrating with a threat that sent adrenaline coursing through my veins.
Watch me. I challenged, even as the forest seemed to close in, branches turning into bars, the moonlight an accomplice in my pursuit.
The woods thrummed with the ferocity of my heartbeat. Branches clawed at my clothes, snagging fabric and flesh as I bulldozed through the undergrowth, desperation lending me speed I didn't know I possessed.
"Come out, come out, wherever you are," Nash's voice slithered through the trees, mocking, edged with a cruelty that made my blood run cold. "Remember, darling, you're mine. Every inch, every scream, every goddamn tear—you signed them over."
My breath hitched, the reminder of that damned contract—a free use monstrosity inked in a moment of madness—served to fuel my defiance. "Fuck your contract!" I spat into the darkness, knowing full well the bastard heard every word.
The shadows seemed to laugh, morphing into his dark silhouette as he closed in. And then, he was upon me, an unstoppable force, his hands clamping down on my arms like iron shackles.
"Gotcha," Nash hissed, spinning me to face him. His eyes, two pools of fury, bore into mine, promising retribution. The thrill of the hunt had twisted into something darker, something more sinister.
"Let go of me, you psychotic leech!" I struggled, but it was like fighting a storm. He was immovable, a statue carved from malice and desire.
"Ah, but where would be the fun in that?" His lips curved into a cruel smile. "You've awakened something primal in me, Celeste. Something... carnal."
His grip tightened, fingers digging into my skin with a possessive hunger. Despite the terror and the urge to flee, there was a treacherous part of me that craved the roughness, the raw power he exuded. Goddamn it, even now, with fear gnawing at my sanity, my body betrayed me, responding to his touch with a shameful eagerness.
"Please," I whispered, the word torn between a plea for mercy and a silent invocation of my darker desires.
Nash's response was not verbal; it was physical—a brutal claiming that left no room for doubt. He pushed me against the nearest tree, his movements savage, each thrust a punctuation mark in the sentence of my captivity.
"Stop," I gasped, though my voice lacked conviction, drowned by the sensation that surged through me.
"That’s not your safe word," he growled, and I felt the beast within him revel in the act, his fangs grazing my neck, a reminder of the monster he truly was.
This wasn't love; this was possession, a dark symphony played on the strings of my submission. The forest swallowed my cries, the sounds mingling with the whispers of leaves and the distant hoot of an owl. It was a concerto of the damned, a perverse pleasure in the pain that racked my body.
The rough bark scraped against my back with each violent thrust as he took me against the tree. His fingers dug into my hips, holding me in place as he relentlessly drove into me. The pain only seemed to heighten the unwanted pleasure that continued building inside.
"You're hurting me," I gasped, the words coming out choked.
