Chapter 2.

Dua opened her eyes to darkness. She tried to move, but her body hit against something hard on all sides... a box.

Her breath hitched. "Where am I?" she whispered. "What happened?"

"Dad’s meds," she suddenly recalled, and the memory slammed into her all at once, a wave of fear crashing down on her.

"Help!" she screamed. "Somebody help me, please!"

A creaking sound echoed above her, light seeping in slowly as the lid opened, blinding her for a moment.

Rough hands grabbed her arm and yanked her out.

"Ah!" she winced, stumbling as her feet hit the wooden floor.

The air smelled of damp wood and something stale.

She looked up, finding two men. One stood a few feet away—tall, broad, with a mask covering one eye. A scar ran across his face, sharp and unforgiving. The other held her firmly in place.

"I assure you, she’s the one," the man gripping her said confidently.

Dua’s gaze flickered between them, confusion twisting into fear.

The one?

"And she has the sacred mark," he added with a grin.

"Hold up," Dua struggled against his grip. "You’ve got the wrong person. I don’t have any sacred mark."

"Here," he turned her roughly, exposing her right side.

"I’m not—" She was saying but ended up in a gasp as the scarred man yanked her sleeve down.

"Hey!" she snapped, trying to cover herself. But it was too late, the man studied the tattoo on her arm... then nodded, satisfied.

He reached into his coat and pulled out a thick stack of dollars, handing it over.

The other man’s face lit up as he received the cash.

Dua’s stomach dropped. "No..." Her breath came out shaky. "Did I just get sold?"

The scarred man yanked her by the arm, pulling her with him. "Please, let me go. I'm not who you think I am," Dua struggled against his grip, pleading earnestly, but it fell on his deaf ears.

He led her out of the house and stopped at the back of a truck. Opening the doors ajar, he pushed her inside.

Dua stumbled forward, barely catching herself before hitting the metal floor.

The doors slammed shut behind her, darkness swallowed her again.

"Hey! Hey, let me out!" she banged against the metal walls, panic rising in her chest. "Please! You’ve got the wrong person!"

The engine roared to life, drowning her voice.

As the truck lurched forward, she lost her balance and fell to her knees, her palms scraping against the rough surface. Her heart pounded violently against her ribs as fear settled deep in her stomach.

"Think... think..." She muttered to herself in panic, but there was nothing to think about. Nothing made sense.

Who were those men? What “mark” were they talking about? Why her?

Her breathing grew uneven as the truck sped on, every turn and bump throwing her around like she weighed nothing.

Time blurred, minutes felt like hours, and eventually, the truck slowed, then stopped.

Dua froze, her pulse quickening.

The doors creaked open, light flooded in again.

"Out," the scarred man ordered.

She hesitated, until his grip on her arm tightened painfully as he dragged her out without waiting.

Her feet hit the ground, cool air brushing against her skin. And then she saw it, a castle. An old, towering, and almost haunting building.

Its walls were worn with age, creeping vines curling around its structure like it had been abandoned for centuries. The tall gates stood like silent guards, heavy and unmoving.

Her brows furrowed in confusion. "Where... am I?"

"This has to be some kind of joke..." she muttered under her breath, but no one answered.

The gates opened with a low, echoing groan, and she was dragged inside.

The moment she crossed the threshold, everything changed, her steps faltered.

The inside was nothing like the outside. Where she expected decay, there was elegance. Where she expected dust, there was polish. Grand chandeliers hung from high ceilings, casting a soft golden glow across the vast hall. The floors gleamed beneath her feet, smooth and spotless. Intricate designs adorned the walls, telling stories she couldn’t understand. It was ancient, but breathtaking.

Dua's eyes widened slightly despite herself. "What is this place?"

"Move," the man snapped, pulling her forward again.

They walked through long corridors, their footsteps echoing faintly. The deeper they went, the quieter it became. It was way too quiet like the entire place was waiting.

They stopped before a massive set of doors, two guards standing on either side, unmoving.

The scarred man gave a slight nod, and the doors opened slowly.

Dua’s breath caught in her throat as she was dragged inside.

The room was enormous. At the far end stood a raised platform, and on it a figure seated still, watching.

Dua's feet suddenly felt heavy as she was forced forward. The closer they got, the clearer he became, and then she saw his face.

Her breath hitched, her mind going blank. It was nothing like she had expected, her expectations shattered instantly.

He wasn’t monstrous, he wasn’t terrifying in the way she had imagined. He was... beautiful. Dangerously so.

Sharp features carved to perfection. Eyes that held a quiet intensity, dark and unreadable. His presence alone filled the entire room, heavy and commanding without a single word.

Her heart skipped, then pounded harder. "This... is the one they brought me to?"

She couldn’t look away, didn’t even realize she had stopped walking until the man beside her shoved her forward.

She stumbled, barely catching herself before falling completely.

Silence filled the room, heavy, and pressing.

She slowly lifted her gaze again, meeting his eyes, and in that moment something felt... wrong. Not just dangerous, but inevitable.

Her fingers curled slightly at her sides, her voice barely above a whisper. "Who are you?"