They'll Catch You

Caelia's breath caught in her throat, her heart thudding wildly against her ribs as her eyes widened in terror. She staggered backward, retreating back to the stone wall. Her body trembled uncontrollably—whether from fear, the evening chill, or sheer shock, she couldn't tell. Her legs weakened beneath her, and she doubled over, one hand clutching the rough stone wall for support. The jagged surface scratched her pale, delicate fingers, but she barely noticed the pain. Her mind was too consumed with the scene that had just unfolded, and the eerie silence that filled the air.

The sound of her own shallow breaths was drowned out by the ringing in her ears. As her vision blurred, she caught sight of a figure moving toward her. A tall, imposing man loomed closer, his presence overwhelming as he extended a hand in her direction. Caelia panted, a few silvery curls tumbling from beneath her gray hood, her pulse racing. She tried to steady herself, forcing her knees to stop shaking, to hold on to some semblance of dignity. But the trembling refused to cease.

The man's hand hesitated, hovering just above a lock of her hair before slowly brushing against it. Caelia's breath hitched. His touch, however fleeting, was shockingly warm against her cheek, a warmth that starkly contrasted with the desert's cold that had been gnawing at her moments before. Desperation seized her as she instinctively leaned toward him, seeking the comfort and heat he seemed to radiate.

Before she could think better of it, she collapsed against him, her body pressing against a firm but comforting chest. He caught her effortlessly, his strong yet gentle arms surrounding her, holding her upright as if she weighed nothing. For a moment, Caelia’s mind blanked. She blinked, trying to regain her composure, but the man tilted her chin up with the same hand that had brushed her hair. The gesture was almost tender, but the intensity of his gaze told her otherwise. A low, rumbling chuckle vibrated through his broad chest as he smirked down at her.

“How unexpected,” his voice was deep, laced with a dangerous amusement that sent a shiver down her spine.

Caelia’s eyes adjusted to the dim light as she stared up at him. His bronze skin glowed faintly, almost too warm to the touch, and his sharp features were striking, but it was his eyes that held her captive. They were a piercing yellow, glowing with a wild intensity. He looked at her the way a predator watches its prey, and Caelia’s breath quickened.

Panic seized her as she fought to pull away, Her hood slipping as she wrenched herself free and retreated to the wall once more. The sudden absence of his warmth hit her like a cold wind, leaving her shaken and breathless. Her body yearned to feel that heat again, but she fought the urge. Instead, she pressed herself against the stone, trying to steady herself.

The man chuckled, the sound low and rich, reverberating around her. Caelia’s eyes flicked downward, realizing with a jolt that his upper body was unclothed, his bronzed skin bare in the cool air. He looked almost like a statue come to life, both beautiful and terrifying in his stillness.

"The fat, old man dresses his whores in such finery... only to defile them. Why?" The man's voice was low, his gaze sharp as it roved over her, lingering on the gap in her cloak. His lips curled into a mocking smile.

Caelia's breath hitched, her desperation momentarily pausing as she took in the sight before her. The man was abnormally tall, his body a masterpiece of refined strength. His muscular abdomen rippled beneath bronzed skin, tapering into a narrow waist. She had never seen a man who looked like him—handsome beyond reason, almost impossibly so. His eyes, a molten gold, glinted in the dim light, matching the extravagant rings and chains that adorned him. For a moment, her mind clouded with an unfamiliar flutter, heat pooling deep in her core. Was she dreaming? Had she fainted?

His eyes continued to trace the curves of her body, lingering where the cloak had fallen open. And though she had been doing the same, marveling at him, instinctively she pulled the fabric closed, covering her exposed cleavage.

"I-I am not a whore," she stammered, her voice barely audible. "This is a wedding dress." She hated how small her voice sounded, ashamed to admit any connection to that vile man.

The stranger laughed, the sound rich and echoing through the estate. "You are amusing," he said, his wide smile both dangerous and dazzling, almost drawing her in again.

"Let me go," she pleaded, her lips trembling as her hope wavered.

He raised his hands in mock surrender, an expression of exaggerated innocence crossing his face—oddly incongruous with his powerful physique. Caelia hesitated only for a moment, her heart racing as she staggered backward, edging toward the door. But just as her fingers touched the cold metal handle, his voice rang out again.

"If you go through there, they’ll catch you." He spoke casually, toying with her.