AUTHOR'S POV

Hunter's penthouse,
02:42 am.

Hunter dashed outside the room, running his hand through his hair in frustration. The living room was a mess, a testament to his earlier outburst as he had thrown things around in a fit of anger.

His chest was rising and falling rapidly, a physical manifestation of his turmoil. His gaze shifted towards his mobile as the screen lit up with Dash's caller ID.

He reached out, irritation bubbling beneath the surface. "Speak."

"Hunter, the girl..." Dash began, but just then, the door started to bang loudly. Hunter lifted his head, gesturing for the only man present at the door to open it. The mobile was still pressed against his ear. "The girl... Lia. She exists," Dash finished just as the door swung open.

Alaric had Lia's hair in his tight grip as he forcefully dragged her into Hunter's penthouse. He threw her to the floor of the hall, the impact jarring her senses. With her hands bounded on her back, she struggled to regain her balance, but the side of her head met the polished floor with a sickening thud, sending a wave of pain coursing through her.

Hunter emerged from the shadows of the living room, his chiseled physique on display, glistening under the soft light. He moved with a predatory grace, each step deliberate, as if he were savoring the moment.

"Here's the thing," Alaric began, his voice low and edged with frustration, his eyes flickering between the two of them. He was keenly aware of the power dynamics at play, the way Hunter's presence seemed to fill the room, making everything else feel small and insignificant.

"Liana." Hunter's voice was smooth, almost teasing, as he leaned casually against the doorframe. There was a glint of amusement in his eyes, but it was laced with something darker. "Long time no see." His tone shifted, the laughter fading as he continued, "Betrayal runs in this family, I see." The words dripped with disdain, each syllable carefully chosen to cut deep.

"You know her?" Alaric asked, the surprise evident in his voice.

Lia looked up at Hunter, her heart racing. The man before her was a storm, dangerous. She felt the tension in the room shift, the air thickening with unspoken words and unresolved conflicts.

"She's Nick's sister." Hunter sat on his ankle in front of her, his eyes narrowing as he studied her. "Explain." His tone shifted, becoming rougher, more demanding.

"You still need an explanation? Forgot how you killed my brother over a small mistake?" Her voice was laced with anger, the memories flooding back, raw and painful.

"Mistakes aren't spared in my world, my dear," he replied, his expression hardening. There was no remorse in his eyes, only a cold, calculating demeanor that sent shivers down her spine.

"But you did forgive Dash, even though your entire Island collapsed because of him," she shot back, defiance igniting her spirit despite the fear that gripped her.

"That should be the least of your concern right now," Hunter said, dismissing her words. "Pity about yourself." The finality in his tone made it clear that this was no longer a conversation; it was a warning, a reminder of the precarious position she was in.

"Where's Sybil?" Alaric's voice broke through the thick tension in the room, urgency lacing his words.

"Bring the girl," Hunter commanded, his eyes still fixed on Lia, a predatory glint in them that sent shivers down Alaric's spine.

Moments later, Sybil was brought into the room barefoot, her frail figure needing a support of the cold wall.

Alaric's heart sank at the sight; she looked utterly lost, her expression blank and devoid of life. Bruises marred her skin, darkening her neck and painting a grim picture of the torment she had endured. Her lips were cracked and swollen, a testament to the physical and emotional abuse she had suffered. Clad only in a shirt that hung loosely on her thin frame, its buttons misaligned, she appeared vulnerable and exposed.

Without wasting a second, Alaric rushed to her side, instinctively shedding his coat and wrapping it around her shoulders, trying to shield her from the harsh reality of her situation.

Sybil's gaze drifted to Lia, who knelt before Hunter, her expression a mixture of fear and defiance. Their eyes met, and in that fleeting moment, Lia understood the gravity of their circumstances. While Sybil was merely a suspect, she was the true target, and the weight of that realization crushed her spirit further.

The dryness that lingered there in her eyes was a stark reminder of the tears that had long since dried, a testament to her suffering. She didn't speak a word just stared blankly before facing the door.

Alaric tried to support her as she walked, but Sybil gestured for him to keep his distance. There was a fierce stubbornness in her eyes, a desire to maintain control over her own body, even if it was slipping away from her.

Alaric followed her with an arms distance because deep down, he knew it was the adrenaline coursing through her veins that was pushing her forward, giving her the strength to move despite the pain.

As they approached a few more steps and that fragile strength crumbled. Sybil stumbled, her legs giving way beneath her, and Alaric reacted instantly, catching her effortlessly before she could hit the ground. He lifted her into his arms, cradling her against him, feeling the warmth of her body and the chill of her fear.

She tried fighting but she knew it's useless, she needs those arms. "Send me back to my home, to my father... please," she pleaded, her voice cracking. The words tumbled out in a breathless rush, each one laced with desperation.

"Did he force himself on you?" Alaric's found it hard to pronounce those words.

Sybil didn't reply, her own screams were echoing in her head. She lifted her head to see Hunter still standing in his place looking straight at her while lia was getting dragged somewhere with his men.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling herself closer hiding her face in chest as she shrunken.

Alaric tightened his grip, squeezing her gently as if to remind her that she was still there, still alive, despite everything that had happened.

He carried her out, his men trailing behind as they approached his car.

"Where to?" One of them asked, causing her to flinch slightly.

"Main house," he replied, adjusting her shirt to ensure it covered her thighs properly.

Sybil shook her head, desperation in her eyes. "No. Please, just take me to my apartment or contact my father." Her voice was muffled against his chest, filled with a mix of fear and pleading.

He gazed down at her, still hiding her face from the world. "Dream Aura isn't safe for you," he said softly, his tone reassuring. "You'll be guarded at my house until morning." He watched her closely, hoping she would understand. "Trust me, just this once. You'll be home by tomorrow."

She didn't resist this time, and he took her silence as a reluctant acceptance.

One of the men opened the backseat door of his car, and Alaric attempted to set her down, but she clung to him tightly, refusing to let go.

"Ballerina?" he called softly, but she didn't respond. He understood that she was trying to hide her face from everyone.

He adjusted her in his arms and settled back into the seat, placing her gently on his lap.

"Ignite the car," he commanded. With a nod from the driver, the engine roared to life, and they began their journey to the destination.

The ride was enveloped in silence. He checked on her frequently, caressing her back, but she never pulled her face out of his embrace.

"Ignite the car," he commanded. With a nod from the driver, the engine roared to life, and they began their journey to the destination.

The ride was enveloped in silence. He checked on her frequently, caressing her back, but she never pulled her face out of his embrace.

When the car halted outside the grand entrance of the King's family mansion, all the men bowed as Alaric stepped out with Sybil still in his arms.

As he entered the mansion, his mother's eyebrows shot up in surprise at the scene unfolding before her.

Alaric gave her a slight nod, silently assuring her that he would explain everything later.

He ascended the curved staircase with effortless grace, carrying her gently into his master bedroom. The soft glow of the lamp light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm ambiance that enveloped them as he laid her down on his plush bed.

"There's no one here," he spoke softly, his voice a soothing in the stillness of the room. "No one could harm you. You are the safest person alive in Moscow right now." He assured her, tucking her into the thick duvet, the fabric enveloping her like a protective cocoon.

As he settled beside her, she finally released her grip on him, her gaze drifting to the tattoo behind his ear. There was a vulnerability in her expression, a mix of confusion and hurt that tugged at his heart.

"Why did you lie to me?" she questioned, her voice barely above a whisper, each word laced with a tremor of emotion that made his chest tighten.

"I didn't want to scare you," he replied, leaning in closer, his forehead resting on her's. "Trust me, You're the only person I don't want to be scared of me. And if you ask me why, I have no answer." His voice dropped to a whisper, revealing the depth of his feelings that he had kept hidden. "You make me want to protect you, Ballerina."

• Regression is the unexpected in a race you thought you were winning.

Chapter Published On: 02 February 2025.

🔍⍤⃝🔎 🔍⍤⃝🔎 🔍⍤⃝🔎
Vote! Vote!! Vote!!!

Level Hard: 330 followers and 1k votes for the next chapter.