He dropped the wood and picked a knife from the floor, gripping my chin tight. I struggled, but it was of no use, then I remembered that I had my legs. I didn’t think, I swung it at his crotch, irritated that I even felt it. I wanted to throw up inside my stomach.
He doubled back, snarling at me. His hand shot up, my eyes widening when I saw the knife tip coming down towards my face. I snapped my head to the side and pushed myself back, but it met me regardless. My neck.
Fuck, it stung.
Hot liquid leaked from the side of my neck, sliding down to my collarbone. I didn’t have time to think about it. He seized mychin again and held tight, aiming the knife at my left eye, the same one I damaged with that iron rod.
“If you harm me, you don’t know the hell you’ll be letting loose,” I gritted out, my voice trembling with a little fear, as the knife hovered, its tip inches from my eye.
The man sneered, leaning in closer. “If this is about your boyfriend, I have plans for him.”
My breath hitched. For a brief, horrifying second, all I could imagine was the tip of that knife plunging into my eye. Blindness. Darkness. Pain.God. But the fear didn’t last long—just a flash of terror before something shifted in my peripheral vision. My eyes drifted past the man’s shoulder, catching a faint movement by the entrance of the building.
It was hard to see in the dim light. Just a dark silhouette against the bleak, empty backdrop. I blinked, my heart skipping, my breath freezing in my chest. The figure moved, slowly at first, like a ghost cutting through the shadows. My pulse raced in my ears as the shape became clearer, solidifying, stepping closer.
And then it hit me. It was him. My breath left my body at once, my chest tightening so hard it hurt. Relief overwhelmed every nerve, every cell. I wanted to laugh, to cry—he found me.Again. He was here, right in front of me, like some impossible miracle. Heaven, I could barely breathe, my vision blurred with unshed tears. He always found me.
But how? My mind scrambled for an explanation, and then, like a hit, I remembered.
The necklace.
His words echoed in my mind, clear as day,“Don’t take it off, no matter what.”That was it. The tracker. He had known, he had planned.
Emotion crashed over me—relief, yes, but more than that, love. Fierce and hard. I wanted to smile, to throw myself into his arms.
My gaze drifted back to the man in front of me, his smug grin still plastered on his face. I felt a smile pull at the corners ofmylips, soft and dangerous. My heart was beating rapidly. Not from fear, but for Theon.
“Maybe,” I whispered, voice laced with certainty, “he has plans for you.”
Confusion clouded his scarred face, and I saw his brows furrow in question. Slowly, deliberately, I flicked my eyes behind him, signalling what was coming. He hesitated, turning around.
At the same moment, a blade sliced through the air from Theon. It buried itself deep in his right breast with a sickening thud, the force of it making him stumble back from me. His knife slipped from his grasp and clattered to the floor.
Theon closed in like a storm. His eyes found mine—dark, ferocious, and alight with something far more dangerous than rage. Without a word, he seized the man by the front of his hoodie. My breath caught as he lifted him effortlessly, displaying a raw power that made my pulse dance. In one smooth, terrifying motion, he hurled him across the room. The man’s body hit the ground with a bone-crunching thud, sliding to a stop near the far wall.
Theon stood there, chest heaving, neck strained with tension, his veins bulging in his forearms as his fists clenched. I feared he might kill this man before I even had the chance to blink or kill him myself.
“Are you okay?” His voice was low, rough.
I nodded, though my heart was still racing. “Yes, I’m fine.”
He handed me the knife on the floor. “Can you cut yourself free?”
Eyeing the man trying to stand up, I nodded. I began sawing at the thick rope binding my wrists to the ceiling. My hands trembled, making it harder than it should’ve been. As I struggled to cut through the coarse rope, my gaze shifted back to Theon.
He was already striding towards the eyepatch man, who was still struggling to get to his feet. The man barely had time to get his bearings before Theon’s fist crashed into his jaw with a brutal crack. His head snapped back from the force, blood spraying from his mouth.
But Theon didn’t stop. He didn’t even pause.
Punch after punch, his fists collided with the man’s body. Each blow was a terrifying testament to his strength, and I could hear the crunch of bones, the wet smack of flesh against flesh. He was not stopping, driven by a rage that seemed almost inhuman. I had never seen him like this before.
I worked faster, the rope fraying beneath the blade, trying to free myself as the sound of their fight echoed through the desolate space. The eyepatch man tried to fight back, throwing a punch that landed squarely on Theon’s jaw. But it did little to slow him down. Theon barely flinched, his knuckles bloodied but unfazed, his movements more precise and brutal with each strike. His next blow shattered the man’s nose. Blood gushed, splattering across the floor as the man staggered, his legs giving way beneath him. Oh no, I wanted to do that.
My hands were sore from gripping the knife, but I had to be careful not to cut my skin. The last thing I needed was to make things worse. I could hear the impact of Theon’s fists, the grunts of effort and pain.
The eyepatch man tried to swing at him again, but Theon dodged, his hand shooting out to grab the man by the throat. He slammed him against the wall, the sound so loud it made me wince. And still, Theon didn’t stop. He kept hitting—teeth cracking, bones shattering. Blood spilled freely, dripping down the man’s face and staining Theon’s hands. It was as if he had a personal vendetta, like the man had done something beyond repair. Well, yes, Theon had fallen off a cliff and missed a year hewould never get back, but it felt like it was something more than that.
Or maybe it was because this man had hurt me. And it terrified me how much of that fury consumed him. Murder gleamed in his eyes. He would kill him.
