The transition from the library's heat to the night air is like being put in ice water. I don't climb out of the window; I fall. My palms scrape against the sharp gravel as I scramble to my feet, the sting barely registering through the roar of adrenaline. I don't look back. I can't. If I see that shadow in the window, I know my legs would give out.
Run, Jatavia. Run until your lungs burn hotter than his touch.
The estate is a labyrinth of shifting shadows and manicured terror. Every snap of a twig sounds like the click of the bedroom door lock. I push through the thicket of the perimeter woods, the thorns pricking on my silk dress, tearing at the fabric like desperate claws.
Suddenly, the world turns blindingly white.
A massive floodlight sweeps across the treeline, followed by the high-pitched, mechanical whine of a security siren that tears through the silence of the countryside. My heart doesn't just beat; it hammers against my ribs, a frantic, rhythmic thud just like the one I felt under my palms in the library.
"Sector Four! Check the perimeter fences!" a voice booms over a loudspeaker.
I dive behind a massive oak tree, pressing my face into the damp bark. The scent of wet earth and pine is a contrast to his oud and sandalwood. Down the slope, I see them, a dozen guards like they are ready for war, their flashlights cutting through the mist. They aren't looking for a guest; they are hunting a fugitive.
Inside the security hub, the atmosphere is suffocating. Telvin Bellarie stands before a wall of sixty monitors, his chest heaving as if he is the one running. His tie is ripped away, his collar open, and his eyes, dark, wild, and starving, scanning the thermal feeds, raging with madness.
"Sir, the Baltimore representatives are wondering why yo…"
"Tell the Baltimore group to go to hell!" Telvin roars, slamming his fist onto the console. The sound echoes like a gunshot. "If she gets out of that gate, you're all fired. Every single one of you."
The door creaks open, and Elena steps in, her silk wrap clutched to her chest. She looks at the screens, then at the man she has loved for years, a man currently going crazy over a girl, he calls just a debt.
"Telvin, stop this," Elena whispers, her voice trembling with a cocktail of fear and sharp, biting jealousy. "You're making a scene. The merger is at stake. Let her go, if she wants to go. She's just a girl, Telvin. She's not worth the Bellarie reputation! You are more than she will ever be"
Telvin doesn't even turn his head. He watches a flicker of movement on camera ten, a shadow near the creek.
"Get out, Elena," he growls.
"She's a traitor! She's playing you!" Elena screams, stepping closer, her hand reaching for his arm. "Let her go! If she wants the gutter, let her have it! Why are you going insane over her, she is just a common girl."
Telvin spins around then, his hand gripping Elena's wrist, not with the dark, yearning heat he uses on me, but with a cold force.
"Listen to me very carefully," he says, his face inches from hers. "She is not 'just a common girl.' She is the only thing in this world I have waited six years to hold. If I have to burn these woods to the ground to find her, I will start the fire myself. Now, get out before I lose my patience."
Elena recoils as if he has struck her. She sees it then, the truth. It isn't just a debt. It is an obsession that borders on insanity. She folds her fist tight, in such a way that the veins in her hands are very visible.
Telvin turns back to the screens. "Release the dogs," he commands into his radio. "But tell them if they put a single scratch on her skin, they won't live to see morning."
CHAPTER 5: THE FLIGHT OF THE STAR (PART 2)
I hear the baying of the hounds before I see them. A deep, guttural howl that turns my blood to ice. I scramble down the muddy bank of the creek, my shoes slipping, my breath coming in ragged sobs.
"Puh—please," I whisper into the dark, the word a broken echo of my plea in the library. "Mum… Dad… save your little baby pl—ease.
I reach the water, the cold numbing my ankles instantly. I wade through, hoping the water will throw off the dogs, my fingers shaking as I clutch the locket at my neck. I can see the main road through the trees, the orange glow of streetlights. This is freedom!
I climb the opposite bank, my lungs screaming for air. Just fifty yards. Just a few more steps. A pair of headlights cut through the trees, hovering near the service gate.
"Marcus?" I gasp, hope surging through me like a drug.
I break into a sprint, my feet pounding the asphalt of the long driveway. I can hear the stomping of footsteps, I can hear them closing in on me. I keep running. What manner of place is this ? How does someone command so much force ? All this for a debt my father never should have carried. All this turned me into a prize to be hunted.
Woof Ruff! Woof Ruff! My chest is tightening. I hear the barking of the dogs, my legs trembling, I rub my hands and fingers together, so I can make myself feel warm as I stop a bit to catch my breath.
The headlights flicker off.
The silence that follows is more terrifying than the sirens. A heavy, familiar scent of sandalwood and bourbon washes over me in the breeze.
A hand, large clamps over my mouth from behind, pulling me back into a hard, broad chest. I struggle, my legs kicking out, but he pins me with the crushing weight of his frame.
"Uhmmn … I love this game, what is it called again? Oh yea hide and seek, but is it really interesting if you allow me to catch you this easily, uh … baby doll? Oh yes … you, you think you can run away from me, Telvin Bellarie?" Telvin whispers against the shell of my ear, his voice calm and soft at this moment. "But you forgot the most important rule."
He turns me in his arms, his eyes searching mine with a look of pure, terrifying possession.
"The Lion always wins."
Chills race down my spine, very sharply, though I haven't even touched a drop of cold water. It's him. Every word he rasps into my ear vibrates deep within my chest, a low frequency that makes my very bones ache with a terrifying recognition. He isn't just speaking to me; he's claiming me, his voice a dark, absolute weight that leaves me out of breath.
He doesn't let go; his arm is a band of iron across my waist, crushing me against the hard planes of his chest. He sweeps me up, ignoring the mud staining his custom suit, and begins the long walk back to the house.
His guards now with us and the dogs they let out. Woof Woof ! barking at me, like they have finally seen the criminal they are looking for. Three of the guards try to take me from him, but he doesn't allow anyone to carry me. As we reach the foyer, the staff maids and other guards fall into a silent, fearful line. Mrs. Holloway is there, her face pale, her hands trembling as she watches us pass.
Get the doctor," Telvin barks as we cross the threshold. "And clear the foyer. Now."
But the foyer isn't empty. Standing at the top of the grand staircase is Elena.
The floodlights from outside catch the sharp, venomous curve of her mouth. She watches Telvin carry me past her as if I am the most precious, broken thing he owns.
"You're a fool, Telvin," she says, her voice echoing off the marble. "Look at her. She's mud and rebellious, Is this what you're willing to lose the Baltimore Merger for? A debt-ridden brat who tries to run the moment your back is turned?" Elena's words sting. They see a price tag, where a person should be, all because of a ledger or so called debt.
Telvin stops. He doesn't look at Elena, but the air in the room seems to drop ten degrees.
"The Baltimore Merger is a business deal, Elena," he says, his voice dropping to a dangerous low. "Jatavia is my life. Learn the difference, or find another house to haunt."
Elena stands at the top of the stairs, her eyes fixed on me with a look of pure, loathing. I realize then that escaping Telvin was only half the battle. In this house, there are lions, and then there are snakes. But am I really what he said I am ? His life ? I ponder.
He kicks the bedroom door open and sets me on the edge of the bed. He doesn't leave. He leans down, his forehead touching mine, his eyes dark and wild.
"The game is over, Jatavia," he murmurs. "I'm locking this door, and I'm taking the key. When I come back from my meeting, we're going to discuss exactly how you're going to pay back every second of sleep I lost tonight."
The door slams. The lock clicks. And I am left in the dark, the scent of his oud still clinging to my skin like a brand.
"You want to play ? Let's play." His voice piercing through the door he just shut.