Chapter 7: Dominic's POV

The moment I stepped into the hidden chamber and saw the loose brick on the floor, I knew she had tried to run.

Smart girl. Stupid move.

My jaw clenched as I stared at the narrow passage she’d uncovered. She remembered. She actually remembered that tunnel something I built years ago as an emergency escape.

Of course she would. She never forgot anything. Especially not the ways to defy me.

“She’s in the tunnel,” I said coldly to the guards. “Stand down. She won’t get far.”

I didn’t wait for anyone to react. I moved fast, slipping into the dark crawlspace, my body low, every sense alert. My thoughts burned with one name.

Celeste.

She never stopped testing me. Always pushing, always running. She still didn’t understand. This wasn’t just about keeping her close. It was about survival. Mine. And hers.

The passage twisted, the walls pressing close, but I moved like a shadow through the dark. I knew every turn, every inch. She thought she could vanish? Hide from me?

She belonged to me. Whether she accepted it or not.

A flicker of motion caught my eye. She was just ahead, kneeling before the old iron door at the end of the passage. Her hands were trembling as she tried the keypad, desperation shaking her whole body.

She didn’t know the code. Of course she didn’t.

I stepped into the light. “You really thought you could get away from me?”

She turned sharply. Her eyes locked onto mine with defiance and fury. I saw her pulse jump in her neck.

“Let me go, Dominic.”

Her voice held fire. Even now, caught and cornered, she still had that blaze inside her. I stepped closer, slowly, deliberately.

“Let you go? So you can run into the dark? Disappear?” I asked, my tone even. “Do you really believe this ends with you walking free?”

“I’m not running anymore.” Her voice was steady. Certain.

That surprised me.

For a second, I looked at her and saw not just the girl clawing for escape, but the woman determined to fight.

“Good,” I said. “Because I’m not letting you go.”

She moved fast. Slippery. Her body twisted past mine before I could block her. I reached for her wrist, caught her with practiced ease. She felt fragile under my grip, but I knew better. Celeste was made of something unbreakable.

She yanked herself free, bolting toward the shaft behind me. I saw where her eyes landed. The ventilation grate.

No.

I lunged, but she dove in before I could catch her. My fist slammed the floor as I crawled in after her.

The shaft was tight. Sharp. Rusty. My elbows scraped metal, my knees tore through dust and debris. But I didn’t care.

Her breathing echoed ahead of me. Harsh. Desperate. Still fighting.

“You’re making this harder than it has to be,” I called after her, voice low and calm.

She didn’t respond.

Light shimmered ahead. The exit grate. She reached it, fingertips stretching toward the faint silver glow of moonlight.

But I was already there.

I blocked the light with my body and watched the hope drain from her face as she looked up and saw me.

“You’re mine, Celeste,” I said quietly. “Run all you want. You’ll always belong to me.”

Her breath hitched. “I don’t belong to anyone.”

I smiled, slow and dark. “You will.”

In one swift move, I reached down and grabbed her ankle. She kicked, screamed, clung to the edges, but it didn’t matter. I dragged her back through the shaft and down into the dark.

We crashed into the floor, hard. Her breath left her lungs in a strangled gasp as she scrambled to push me off. But I pinned her there, held her down with every ounce of strength I had.

She looked up at me, wild and shaking, fury burning behind her eyes.

“You don’t get to run,” I said, my voice low and rough. “Not now. Not ever.”

“I’m not yours.”

“You will be.”

Her hatred didn’t scare me. It pulled me in.

“This isn’t about control,” I said. “It’s about survival. I’m the only one keeping you alive. You just don’t see it yet.”

She trembled beneath me, not from fear but from something deeper. I could feel her resistance, her stubborn fire pushing back. But I could also feel the pull.

Her breath brushed across my lips. She looked at me and whispered like a challenge, “Then fight me. Prove it.”

A low growl escaped my throat.

I crushed my mouth to hers.

The kiss was violent. Fierce. A collision of anger, pain, and need. She fought back with teeth and nails, but she didn’t pull away. She kissed me like she wanted to hurt me. Like I was the storm and she was done running from it.

And I kissed her like I was drowning in her.

When we broke apart, breathless and shaking, I stared at her flushed face.

“You’re mine,” I whispered. “Even if it kills me.”

Her voice shook when she answered, but her eyes didn’t waver. “I’m still fighting.”

For a moment, something broke through. Something raw. Human.

Then it was gone. Buried again.

I pulled her close, my arms wrapping around her whether she liked it or not.

“Then fight with me,” I murmured against her skin. “Or fall alone.”

She didn’t answer.

But in that breathless space between us, I knew the truth.

This wasn’t just a battle between us.

It was the war inside both of us.