Ch-8: Claimed

Miley's POV: 

My legs were trembling, warning me as I lowered my hand and lifted my face, trying to focus all my energy on the person who had spoken. 

The bright headlights were blinding me so badly that I couldn’t see past the glare. 

Slowly, my eyes adjusted and the shadows in front of me slowly took form. A young boy was leaning out of the passenger window, his small face filled with something like curiosity while his icy blue eyes stared down at me.

It was him! The same boy from the hotel and the cruise—

“Well?” 

He asked again, his voice was sharp and full of impatience.  “Aren’t you even gonna thank him?”

The child pointed at the man hidden mostly in the darkness, sitting behind the steering wheel. 

As my vision cleared, my eyes fixed on the most devastatingly beautiful man I had ever seen.  

He was inhumanly handsome, his aristocratic features being sharpened by the moonlight: broad forehead, chiseled jawline, and heavy eyelids. 

His beauty wasn't human. He was like a wrathful deity, so perfect that it was terrifying… like he was made out of frozen lava. 

"Get down from the window,” He ordered the child, his voice was like velvet wrapped around steel.

That was the moment that he lifted his eyes and met my gaze. 

His eyes… I wasn't dreaming right? They were the same ice blue as the boy's, the same ice blue as I had seen before– the memory hit me without warning. 

A flash of blue, and I remembered the day I was in the cemetery… a butterfly flew right above me, its wings the same shade of blue.

I shook my head, trying to push away the fog in my brain. The memory slipped away just as quickly as it came, making me aware of the fact that the men behind me were getting closer. 

I could hear their curses, their footsteps loud on the pavement.   

“Let’s see where you run this time!” 

I couldn’t run anymore, he was right. But adrenaline surged through my battered body like a last lifeline. 

Dragging myself across the ground, I collapsed against the driver's door. My reflection stared back from the window - like a ruined masterpiece. 

My sweat-slicked skin had turned pale enough to almost be translucent, highlighting every bruise blooming across my flesh. My oversized hospital gown slipped off one shoulder as tangled hair clung to my flushed cheeks in tangled strands. 

My eyes were wide and pleading, large with the fear that consumed me. My skin was slick with sweat as my lips trembled, bitten-red– the only sign of life left in my otherwise exhausted body.

I couldn’t hold myself up much longer.

“Help me,” I whispered, my voice barely a breath. The words slipped out like a prayer. 

I didn’t care anymore. I didn’t care what they thought of me. I just needed to get out of this nightmare, away from the terror snipping at my heels. 

“Please, help me…”

I repeated, my voice breaking.

Our eyes locked, and for a moment, everything around me disappeared. 

Time had frozen, the world blurring and slowing down until there was only him and me. His gaze flicked down to my bleeding feet, his expression was beyond my understanding. 

The car door opened silently, and suddenly he was standing before me, towering over me. 

I swayed, my vision swimming as that piercing gaze swept over my battered body. And suddenly, I realized that such a look existed in this world too– an expression that captured terror so perfectly, that even Michelangelo would have cried out his inferiority in capturing it. 

His sleek black suit hugged his frame in all the right ways. Eyes like they I could drown in them… like they would pull me in without a second thought.

He moved like a panther, standing between me and my attackers, his broad back blocking my view. 

"She is mine."  

Three words–  that's all it took for the hired goons to stop in their tracks. 

"Fuck off, before I tear you apart limb to limb!"  

One of the men opened his mouth, but his companion grabbed his arm urgently. I couldn't hear him, but I could see his lips moving in an urgent tone.  

All the blood drained from the man's face. Within seconds, they were running in the opposite direction, fearing for their lives. 

 

As soon as I sensed the danger leaving me, all the exhaustion, nausea and dizziness returned, instead of the relief that I was expecting. 

My legs gave out, this time for sure– but before I could have collapsed, an arm caught me around the waist.  

‘She is mine.’ 

My eyelids were drooping shut, but I could hear his words in my mind, replaying like a reel. Who was he? And what exactly did he call me…?

My head was spinning. The last thing I remembered was the cold press of his signet ring against my cheek as he lifted me effortlessly, before everything went black.