Chapter 218
I sigh softly, letting these thoughts drift away. Maybe it’s better to
stop trying to understand. To just enjoy what I’m feeling now and let
time show how it all unfolds.
I finally fall asleep, feeling him hold me even tighter, as if he wanted
to ensure that even in my dreams, I couldn’t escape him.
[…]
I wake up with a bad feeling, a sharp chill that climbs up my spine
and settles in my chest. I lie still for a moment, trying to figure out
where this sudden anguish is coming from. I open my eyes slowly…
and I nearly have a heart attack.
Adrian is staring at me. He’s standing by the edge of the bed, his dark
eyes fixed on me like blades. That calmi face of his now looks like an
immobile mask, and something in the intensity of his gaze cuts me
deeper than any slap ever could.
“What the fuck, Adrian?” I manage to mutter, my voice sounding lost
and strangely thin. My heart is beating so fast it feels like it wants to
jump right out of my chest. “Trying to scare me to death, dammit?”
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He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t move a single muscle except for his
eyes, which don’t blink. I watch the curve of his mouth, the way the
light hits his face, and the confirmation of danger washes over me:
this isn’t a joke. It’s that absolute calm before the storm, and I get the
impression that if I move the wrong way, everything will explode.
My breath catches. I place my hand on his cheek, looking for some
human warmth, but his skin is strangely cold under my fingers.
“What is it?”
He suddenly grabs my hand and kisses my palm with delicacy, never
breaking eye contact.
“I dreamed you vanished.” His voice is a mere thread, hoarse, as if it had been dragged up from somewhere deep inside. “I saw you close the door and walk away without even looking back. I woke up in a
panic… I haven’t been able to sleep since. I need to see you, to keep
you here. I need to be sure you won’t oscape.”
I let out a heavy sigh, trying to brush off the shiver running down my
spine.
“I’m not going to run away, Adrian.”
The answer should have been enough. Instead, he squeezes my hand
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so hard I feel his fingers forming grooves in my skin, his nail leaving
a red mark. His gaze, which had been almost pleading for comfort,
turns animalistic: ravenous, sickly.
“I don’t believe you.” The sentence comes out low, but it cuts like a
blade. “Your promise could be nothing but wind.”
I realize then just how shattered he is: his lip trembles, his breath
comes in short bursts, and the hand holding mine moves
involuntarily, shaking as if every muscle is fighting to stay steady.
I pull him toward me and lay him down on my chest.
“I’m not going to run,” I repeat, sliding my hand slowly through his
hair. “I’ve already accepted that there’s no escaping you. And even if I
tried, I know you’d hunt me down to hell. So… stay calm. I’m not
going anywhere.”
He hugs me so hard that, for a second,‘I can’t breathe.
“Promise?” he whispers, his voice broken. “I love you too much,
Magnus. Just imagining that you could abandon me makes me go
insane. It makes me want to…” He swallows, his teeth grinding.
“Break your legs. Just to guarantee you’ll never leave.”
A shiver runs from the nape of my neck to my feet. The worst part is
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the calmness with which he says it–so serene that it turns the threat
into a routine.
“That kind of thinking is exactly what makes someone want to run,” I
answer, half–serious, half–ironic. “But I won’t. I still have some love
for my own life.”
A low laugh escapes him, muffled against my chest. He stays there,
motionless, squeezing me as if I were oxygen, and for a moment, this
sickly possessiveness seems like nothing more than disguised fear.
“If I wasn’t sure about what I wanted, I wouldn’t have let you fuck me
in that room,” I say quietly, my voice hoarse with fatigue. “So, you can
relax… I’m not going to run away.”
He doesn’t respond. He just continues to hug me tightly, his face
buried in my chest as if he were trying to merge with me. I close my
eyes, letting my body relax little by little, feeling the weight of the
fear turn into exhaustion.
Deep down, I know I’ve entered something from which there is no
exit. Even if one day I wanted to leave, I won’t be able to. Because if I
try… he will do exactly what he said. He’ll break my legs, and maybe
my heart along with them.
“What a great life,” I think, with a faint, joyless laugh, before sleep
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drags me back into the arms of my own personal hell.
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
