Chapter three

Diana

The evening air burned my lungs as I ran.

Branches tore at my arms, my legs, and my face, but I didn’t stop.

Couldn’t stop.

At some point, I had lost my shoes.

My bare feet slammed against the damp earth, every frantic step sending a jolt of pain up my legs.

But I welcomed the pain. It meant I was still alive. It meant I wasn’t in that carriage anymore, heading toward whatever nightmare my father had planned for me.

I didn't care too much about life...or at least, I thought I didn't.

But death this way? It felt unreal. I was supposed to leave on my terms, right?

Why would he have the final laugh?

No!

Shouts rang out behind me, growing closer. They were chasing me.

I pushed harder, the muscles in my legs screaming in protest.

The forest was thick, but being left alone to my devices I had played in the woods as a child—I knew the twists, the roots, the places to hide.

If I could just make it deep enough, I might have a chance.

I might be able to figure something out.

Then something hit me from behind.

A crushing weight sent me sprawling forward, my chin slamming against the ground.

I gasped as strong hands flipped me over, pinning me down. My nails clawed at dirt, at fabric...anything to break free...but the guard was too strong.

"Let me go!" I shrieked, thrashing.

The guard grunted, yanking me up by the waist as if I weighed nothing. "Stop struggling, Princess. It’s over."

"No," I choked out, twisting wildly.

I slammed my elbow into his ribs, hard enough that he staggered back with a curse.

But before I could make another move, his hand fisted into my hair, yanking my head back painfully.

"That was a mistake," he growled before hauling me over his shoulder like a sack of grain.

I kicked, I screamed, I pounded my fists against his back, but nothing worked.

My heart pounded in my chest as he carried me back through the trees, back toward the carriage, back toward him.

The moment I saw my father standing by the carriage, I knew I was doomed.

He didn’t look angry. He didn’t look relieved. He just looked at me like I was a burden he was tired of dealing with.

The guard dropped me to my knees in front of him. My breath came in ragged gasps, my limbs shaking from the fight.

For a split second, I thought maybe...maybe...just maybe...he’d look at me and realize what he was doing.

Then his hand flew across my face.

The impact sent me sprawling to the ground.

A sharp, stinging heat bloomed across my cheek, and for a moment, all I could do was stare at the dirt beneath me, dazed.

Of course, now he'd slap me.

"You’re more trouble than you’re worth," he muttered.

I tasted blood in my mouth as I slowly pushed myself up onto my elbows. "Please," I rasped.

He didn’t listen. He crouched down, yanked the belt from his robe, and in one swift motion, he bound my wrists together. The fabric bit into my skin, but I was too numb to feel it properly.

"Father," I whispered, my voice cracking. "Please don’t do this."

I stopped begging my father a long time ago. I used to let him do whatever he wanted.

But now, the situation felt unreal. Like I had finally lost what little control I had of my life.

He hauled me to my feet and started dragging me forward.

"I’ll leave," I begged, stumbling beside him. "I’ll disappear, I swear! I’ll never bother you again. Just—just don’t do this."

Nothing.

Tears blurred my vision. "I know we never got along. I know I was never the daughter you wanted, but I’ll change. I’ll be better. I’ll..."

"Enough," he snapped.

My breath hitched.

We reached the massive doors of the mansion.

My father raised a fist and knocked three times, each knocks sending a sickening dread curling through my stomach.

Then he spoke.

"My part of the deal has been fulfilled."

To whom? I had no idea, but my spine felt like it had shrunk.

What deal?

The doors creaked open. Darkness loomed beyond the threshold, thick and endless.

I turned to him, my chest heaving. "Please," I whispered, my voice breaking entirely now. "Don’t let me die like this."

His eyes were void of emotion as he lifted his foot...

And kicked me through the doorway.

I landed hard, my shoulder slamming into the cold stone floor.

My body curled in on itself, my heart hammering against my ribs. I scrambled up, my bound hands slipping against the ground as I tried to crawl back toward the door, toward the only piece of home I had left.

"Father, please!" I sobbed. "I’ll do anything!"

But he was already turning away.

The doors swung shut.

The sound of them slamming closed echoed in my chest, and suddenly, everything was too quiet.

I stayed there, frozen, my breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps.

This was it.

I had been thrown to the wolves.

Or rather—the monster.

It was sad really. I couldn't have anything in life. I couldn't even choose the way I died.

A presence entered the room.

Not loud, not forceful. But heavy.

It pressed against me, thick and suffocating like the very air had turned against me. My pulse stuttered. He’s here.

The monster.

My body went rigid, every muscle locking in place.

'Move!' my brain screamed. Do something. But I couldn’t. I just knelt there, my eyes fixed on the floor, waiting.

Footsteps echoed in the hall.

A shadow stretched across the stone, and a man stepped into view.

Not the monster.

A young man..not much older than me. He was dressed neatly, his posture stiff with authority.

His gaze swept over me, unreadable, before he crouched down and cut through my bindings with a small knife.

"You look dirty," he said matter-of-factly.

I stared at him, too shaken to respond.

He stood and dusted off his hands. "The master is waiting."

Master.

A fresh wave of terror rolled through me, but my legs moved on instinct.

I followed him through the grand, dimly lit corridors, my heartbeat growing louder with each step.

The closer we got, the stronger the presence became. It wasn’t just power. It was dominance.

And then...

We reached a set of ornate doors. The old man pushed them open, and I stepped inside.

The air was thick, humming with raw and untamed mystery...one in which if I put my head into it, I might just go mad.

My breath caught in my throat as my gaze landed on the figure standing at the far end of the room.

He wasn’t a monster.

He wasn’t a beast.

He was...a man?

A powerful, rough-looking man. But a man nonetheless.

And the moment his eyes locked onto mine—piercing, unreadable—I knew.

I had been given to something far more dangerous than a monster.

So, this is how I died...