Todos os capítulos de Sins of the Vor’s Daughter : Capítulo 21 - Capítulo 30

DanikaYulia’s words stayed with me long after she left the sitting room.Old injuries. Prolonged captivity. Scars and healed breaks that matched no known mercenary record. The clean file was a lie. The man who stood outside my door every night had been held somewhere once, long enough for his body to keep the proof.I started looking.Not obviously. I watched the way he moved when he thought no one paid attention. The slight stiffness in his left shoulder when he reached too high. The way he never let his wrists stay uncovered for long. At training I let my eyes drop to the edge of his sleeves more than once. He noticed. Of course he noticed. By midday the careful distance he kept had turned colder.“You are staring,” he said while he rewrapped my hands.“I am learning.”“Learn something else.”The push-pull sharpened after that. I stopped pretending the ninety seconds of darkness had not changed anything. When we walked the corridors I let my shoulder brush his arm and felt him go r

DanikaHe held me there for three full seconds after the warning left his mouth.My wrists stayed pinned to the wall beside the door, his fingers firm and exact, the heat of his chest a single breath away from mine. I could feel the controlled strength in his grip. I could feel the restraint that kept him from closing the last inch. My pulse hammered so hard I was sure he felt it under his thumbs.Then he let go.He stepped back like the contact had burned him and walked out of the room without another word. The door stayed open. I stayed against the wall with my arms still raised and the shape of his hands printed on my skin. The place where his mouth had almost touched my ear felt hotter than the rest of me. The ache between my legs pulsed in heavy, restless beats. I lowered my arms slowly. The skin around my wrists tingled where the pressure had been.I closed the door and locked it. The click sounded too loud. I leaned my forehead against the wood and tried to steady my breathing.

DanikaThe words sat in the air long after he said them.I already killed the last man who tried this.He did not look at me when he spoke. His eyes stayed locked on the frozen frame of the shadow in the corridor. The feral edge that had cracked through his professional mask was still there, colder now, more personal. My pulse hammered in my throat. Fear and something hotter twisted together under my ribs until I could not tell them apart.He shut the system down without another word and walked me back to my floor in silence. The half-step distance he usually kept felt different. Closer. Heavier. Every time his sleeve brushed mine the memory of his hands pinning my wrists rose up and made the ache between my legs pulse. I kept my face blank for the cameras and let the implication of what he had said turn over in my mind. He had killed before. For this. For someone watching a woman sleep. The knowledge should have scared me clean. Instead it sank low and hot beside the fear and stayed

DanikaHe gave me no explanation.The claim in the way he said my name still sat in the air between us when he stepped back and nodded toward the door. Pack a bag. We’re leaving the estate tonight. That was all. I stared at him for three full seconds, waiting for more, and got nothing but the same dark focus that had cracked through his mask in the security wing.I walked back to the suite with him half a step behind me. The corridor felt longer than usual. Every time his coat brushed my sleeve the memory of his hands pinning my wrists rose up and made the ache between my legs pulse. The sound of my name in his mouth still lived low in my body, heavier than any order my father had ever given.Inside the room he closed the door and stood with his back against it. Watching. I pulled the small black duffel from the closet and started packing because the alternative was to stand still and demand answers he would not give. Underwear. Two sweaters. The dark jeans that fit close enough to mo

DanikaNo attack came.Kazimir stood over the bed for another full minute, gun angled toward the window, body rigid, listening to something I could not hear. Then he lowered the weapon and stepped back. The grey light around the curtain edges had strengthened just enough to show the hard set of his jaw and the controlled rise and fall of his chest. Whatever he had expected did not arrive. The near-miss left the small room feeling tighter than before.He checked the locks again. The curtains. The thin closet. Only when every corner was clear did he return to the wooden chair near the door and sit. The gun stayed in his hand. I stayed in the bed with the thin blanket pulled to my waist and my pulse still hammering from the sight of him standing over me in the dark. The ache between my legs had not faded. If anything the raw tension of the moment had fed it. My skin felt too sensitive under the sweater I had slept in. Every small shift of fabric reminded me how close he had been and how