“There’s no such thing as divorce here,” he says in an amused voice, like I just made a joke, which, technically, I did. There’s no law in this country above Matleon. And if I tell my family I want to divorce him because he touched me, they’ll just give me even funnier looks.
My head spins from being upside down, my lower belly throbbing where it’s pressed against his shoulder. My hair brushes my face as I claw at his back, trying to push away.
“I’ll walk, I promise. Put me down!” I gasp, hitting him with weak, frustrated fists.
He sets me down. I sink to the ground, gasping for air, holding my head as my heart pounds violently in my chest. Matleon watches me with a smile, this one is real, predatory, and maddeningly calm.
He extends his hand. “Let’s—”
Before he can finish, I break free and dash toward Zo’s mansion. My chest heaving with exertion. There’s a 99% chance he’ll catch me, but I’m a Mikhailov. I won’t bend without fighting for that one percent.
His laugh echoes behind me, deep and amused, and the rapid thud of his footsteps follows. Panic and exhilaration mixin my veins. I push harder, my breath cutting in sharp gasps, my leg muscles screaming.
In the blink of an eye, his long stride closes the gap. I’m lifted off the ground, my stomach twisting as he spins me midair to keep us from crashing. My arms flail instinctively, a yelp escapes me, my pulse hammering in my ears.
He sets me down gently but firmly, his presence overwhelming. Leaning close, his lips brush my ear. “I’ll give you one more chance,” he whispers, low and dangerous, and I can feel the weight of every word vibrating through me.
He moves away from me. “Run, Angel. Don’t let this devil catch you.”
And I run, this time toward the woods. My flip-flops are doing nothing to help me. I glance back after a few trees, and now he has started running too. I push deeper into the forest, the trees growing denser and the shadows darker with every step.
I spot a short, climbable tree and scramble up it within seconds. The dim glow of the crescent moon barely penetrates the canopy, leaving the forest almost pitch-black. I smile to myself, catching my breath through my nose. This won’t help Matleon either.
I slip off my t-shirt, holding it in my hands, keeping my focus on the faint sound of his footsteps behind me. My heart hammers violently, skipping beats, and it jumps even higher when I hear him getting closer. Every nerve in my body is on high alert. Sweat trickles down my back, but the cool night air brushes over me, calming and cooling my heated skin.
I stop breathing when he comes near my tree. I can see him scanning the shadows in the dim light. My head starts to feel hot from lack of oxygen, I hold my breath, praying he doesn’t look up.
He doesn’t. He steps forward—one, two, three steps—and I leap down silently right behind him. Before he can turn, I wrap my t-shirt around his neck, tying a single knot with the leverage of my hands, effectively choking him.
I pull the knot tighter. He laughs, a full-throated, maniacal laugh unlike anything I’ve ever heard. The sound echoes through the forest like thunder. Even birds fly away from their nests, startled by the monstrous noise. I tighten the knot further. His laughter grows louder, more frenzied, yet unbroken.
And then, in one swift motion, I fall from winning to losing.
He turns. My grip slips. And the next second I’m slammed back against the very tree I was hiding in.
He pins my wrists above my head against the rough bark, the wood biting into my skin, while his other hand squeezes my cheeks together, forcing my face up. His face is lit with a monstrous grin, wild, feral. I’ve never seen this expression on him before.
“Your father trained you well,” he says, his voice edged with pride.
“Not well enough,” I snap, breathless, not pointing out the obvious fact that he has me pinned. “You’re still standing on your legs.”
He throws his head back and laughs, that same monstrous laughter, loud and unrestrained, echoing through the trees. His thick neck stretches in front of me, exposed.
Then, unexpectedly, he lets me go.
I stumble a step forward as he reaches into his pocket. With a sharp click, a blade snaps open. He extends it toward me, the metal glinting faintly in the moonlight.
“If you want to kill me,” he says calmly, “use this.”
I know that I can’t kill him. But still, I take the knife. My fingers wrap tightly around the handle.
He starts circling me slowly, like a predator indulging in a game. “Now, Angel, you have something to kill me,” he murmurs. “And I have nothing. Who is more powerful?”
“You are,” I say honestly, my grip tightening. “You’re stronger than me even without a weapon.”
My heart is thudding in a way it never has before, slamming against my ribs, adrenaline flooding my veins. Suddenly, he’s behind me. His fingers reach for my back, unclasping the hook of my bra.
I spin and slash the blade toward him. He dodges effortlessly, the smirk on his face never faltering.
