Dhriti’s vision wavered, but her mind remained sharp. Her body, however, betrayed her. A cold numbness crept through her veins, her muscles slackening against her will. The drug was working, slower than intended, but still seeping into her system, weaving its deadly magic. Her instincts screamed at her to move, to fight, but her limbs felt sluggish, as if she were submerged in thick, invisible chains. Yet, she remained upright, her head held high, her eyes defiant.

The new leader smirked as he stepped toward her, his gait confident, almost leisurely, like a predator who knew his prey had nowhere left to run. He was nothing like Scar—Scar had been arrogant, impulsive, foolish. This man was different. Calculated. Patient. And worst of all, he was enjoying this.

“You’re fighting it, aren’t you?” His voice was smooth, laced with dark amusement. His eyes trailed over her as if watching a piece of art slowly unravel. “That fire of yours… I must admit, it’s admirable. It’s not every day we come across someone like you.”

He lifted a gloved hand, brushing his fingers along her jawline. Dhriti’s skin crawled, but she refused to react. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

“But even the fiercest miscalculate,” he continued, tilting his head as if studying her. “And you did.”

His fingers ghosted lower, his touch slow, deliberate, as he traced the edge of her collarbone. Dhriti’s jaw clenched, but her limbs refused to move as swiftly as she wanted. She could feel the weight settling in, her body beginning to betray her further.

"You’re dangerous," he admitted, his thumb grazing her lower lip, his smirk deepening. "And I know I should kill you before you kill us. But honestly, sweetheart," he whispered, his voice dropping to a mockingly intimate tone, "where's the fun in that?"

The hijackers chuckled in the background. They had been wary before, but now, now they looked at her with something different—triumph.

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against her skin. "That drug… it's special, you know." His voice was soft, almost tender, as if sharing a secret. "It was designed to break even the strongest."

His fingers slid into her hair, twisting a lock around his fingers before fisting it cruelly, yanking her head back. "It takes down men twice your size, warriors who have endured pain beyond measure. And you? You’re just so…" His lips curled into a smirk. "Small."

The passengers flinched. They saw it too—how she swayed slightly, how her hands curled into fists that wouldn’t strike. She was losing control of her body, her movements slower, her muscles refusing to cooperate.

The man chuckled, enjoying the sight. "You see, this isn't just any sedative." His other hand trailed down her arm, to her wrist, wrapping his fingers around it as if testing the weight of her resistance. "This drug is meant to do more than just weaken. It doesn't simply paralyze… it seduces."

Dhriti’s breathing slowed. Her pulse hammered against her ribs, but she wouldn’t react.

"It doesn't just take your strength," he murmured, lips brushing dangerously close to her ear. "It takes your will."

His grip on her wrist tightened.

"In a few minutes, your body won’t just be weak. It will crave surrender. You’ll feel it—the need to submit. The aching exhaustion. The slow, creeping warmth that makes you stop resisting."

His fingers trailed down the side of her neck, mapping the tension coiled beneath her skin.

“And that’s what makes it so special,” he continued, his voice a poisonous whisper. “It doesn't break you right away. No, that would be too easy.” He chuckled. “No, it lets you fight. It lets you struggle. It lets you think you still have a chance… before it makes you realize you never did.”

His fingers traced the pulse at her throat. "I wonder… how long will you last?"

Dhriti forced her lips to part, the words slipping out slow but sharp. "You're making the same mistake Scar and his men made."

His smirk widened. "Oh? And what mistake is that?"

Her gaze met his, unwavering. "Thinking I will ever submit."

The hijackers laughed, the sound filling the cabin, a twisted melody of amusement. He shook his head, clicking his tongue. "Oh, but you will. Not because you want to, but because your body will want to. That’s the beauty of it. You won’t even have to think about surrendering… it’ll happen naturally."

His grip on her hair tightened further as he leaned in, his nose grazing the curve of her jaw.

“I enjoy breaking people who aren’t afraid of anything," he murmured, his voice dropping to a dark whisper. "Watching their confidence crumble. Watching them realize they’re not as untouchable as they think."

His free hand lifted, brushing over her lips with featherlight cruelty. "Scar was mesmerized by you," he mused, almost mockingly. "But unlike him, I’m not a fool."

His fingers curled, tugging her head back further. "He played with fire without an extinguisher." His other hand traced lower, skimming over her waist. "But I? I came prepared."

His smirk deepened. "This drug will make you much more… docile."

The hijackers jeered, watching intently. The passengers turned their faces away, ashamed, helpless. Some looked down, their fists clenched, unable to intervene, knowing any move would get them all killed.

He tilted her chin up with his finger. "But before that, I think I deserve a little reward, don’t you?" His voice dipped into something more dangerous. "A little taste of what had Scar so enchanted."

He leaned in closer—too close.

And then—

He made his mistake.

His lips ghosted over hers—an act of twisted dominance.

And Dhriti moved.

Her jaw snapped forward, her teeth sinking into his flesh.

A sharp, vicious bite.

Hard. Unforgiving.

The taste of copper flooded her mouth.

He screamed.

A raw, strangled sound of agony.

His grip on her hair tightened painfully before he yanked away. Blood dripped down his chin, spilling onto his collar. His eyes burned with fury, a mixture of rage and disbelief.

"You—!"

His hand shot up to strike her.

But Dhriti?

She smirked.

A slow, cruel, victorious smirk.

The Ice Queen was still standing.

And she was far from done.

No one knew what was coming, but whatever it was no one was ready for it or could ever have been.