*****

The forest was alive, but not in a comforting way. Birds chirped in discord, their calls sharp and almost intrusive, echoing across the thick canopy. Heidi's lashes fluttered open to a cold, wet sensation on her arm. Confusion turned to disgust as she glanced down—a white smear streaked her forearm, gleaming under the soft morning light.

Bird poop.

She shot upright, a shudder rippling through her body. “Seriously?” she muttered, her voice hoarse. Swiping at the mess with trembling hands, she grabbed a handful of leaves from the ground, their damp, earthy texture biting against her fingertips. But no matter how much she wiped, the sensation lingered, crawling under her skin like an unwelcome memory. She exhaled sharply, her breath visible in the cool air.

A glimmer of hope appeared when her eyes caught the sight of a small house further down the woods, its silhouette leaning slightly as if the weight of time had bent it. She hesitated, taking in the sight: cracked wooden planks, overgrown vines draping the walls like a shroud, and a well standing nearby, its stone frame chipped and weathered. The air around the place felt still, as though it were holding its breath.

Still rubbing at her arm, she approached cautiously, the crunch of dry leaves beneath her boots the only sound accompanying her footsteps. The scent of moss and damp wood clung to the air, sharp and earthy. She reached the well first, her gaze lingering on the bucket that dangled precariously on its rope. Lifting it, she dipped her hands into the cool water inside, shivering at the sudden sting against her palms. She scrubbed at her arm with a desperate urgency, the icy liquid leaving her skin raw and pink.

Her face followed next, the cold water snapping her senses awake. She tied the scarf that had been hanging loosely around her neck back into place, brushing stray locks of hair behind her ears. But as she leaned over the well, peering into the still, dark water below, a sharp crack in the distance made her freeze.

Her body stiffened, the sound reverberating through the forest like a gunshot. It was a gunshot.

The birds took flight, their panicked wings slicing the air as they disappeared into the canopy. Heidi’s heart pounded painfully against her ribs, the sound deafening in her ears. She took a step back from the well, her breathing shallow, and turned her head toward the noise.

Another sound—a rustling, closer this time. Her pulse quickened. She didn’t wait to see who—or what—it was. She ran.

The world blurred around her as she bolted to the back of the house. Her boots skidded against the dirt, loose rocks scattering in her wake. She pressed herself against the wooden wall, sliding down until she was crouched low to the ground. Her chest heaved as she covered her mouth with trembling hands, trying to silence the panic threatening to spill out.

The footsteps came closer, crunching steadily over twigs and leaves. She pressed harder against the wall, the rough wood biting into her back. Shadows danced in her peripheral vision, growing longer, darker, and more menacing. Her mind screamed for her to run, but her body refused to move, every muscle frozen in place.

And then, he appeared.

The figure stepped into view, his movements slow and deliberate, as though savoring the moment. The wind picked up, leaves swirling around his boots as the sunlight filtering through the trees caught his face in fractured pieces. Heidi's breath hitched as the stranger’s features came into focus—sharp, angular, and hauntingly calm.

He took a step closer, then another, his boots crunching over the fallen leaves. The wind tore through the clearing, whipping her hair into her face. She felt her breath stall in her throat. He moved with a confidence that chilled her, like someone who knew he had already won.

And then he stopped, mere inches away from her trembling form. Slowly, he lowered himself onto one knee. His dark eyes flicked toward her, locking on like a predator spotting its prey. Her heart sank, her stomach twisting into knots. She tried to scoot back, her palms scraping against the rough ground, but it was too late.

“Who are you?” she croaked, her voice barely above a whisper.

The man tilted his head, his gaze trailing over her as if trying to piece her together. A ghost of a smirk tugged at his lips, but it wasn’t comforting—it was calculated.

“Who am I?” he repeated, his voice low, smooth, and dripping with quiet amusement.

Her throat tightened as she scrambled to move further away, but his hand shot out, gripping her ankle with a vice-like strength. The heat of his touch burned through the fabric of her jeans, sending a jolt of fear straight to her chest.

“No!” she screamed, thrashing desperately, her hands clawing at the dirt.

He didn’t flinch. Instead, with terrifying ease, he dragged her closer, the sound of her body scraping against the ground drowning out her shallow gasps. She was inches from him now, her wide, tear-filled eyes staring into his.

“Let me go!” she pleaded, her voice breaking.

His grip tightened. He leaned in, his face close enough that she could feel the warmth of his breath against her skin. The forest around them seemed to hold its breath, the distant chirping of birds fading into an eerie silence.

He studied her for a moment, his gaze dark and unreadable. Then, his voice cut through the stillness, low and chilling:

“Why would I do that?”

Tears spilled down Heidi’s cheeks as she shook her head, her body trembling violently. The man’s eyes flickered down to her hand, catching sight of the scars marring her skin. Something in his expression shifted—a flicker of recognition, quickly masked by a cold, unreadable calm.

He reached out, his fingers brushing against the marks on her hand. Heidi flinched at the touch, her breath hitching.

“Funny,” he murmured, almost to himself. “You’re even more beautiful up close.”

Her heart thundered in her chest, the weight of his words sinking deep. But before she could process anything, his grip on her ankle loosened, and he stood, looming over her like a shadow.

“Don’t try to run,” he said, his voice soft yet commanding. “You won’t get far.”

With that, he turned, his steps echoing faintly as he disappeared into the woods. She gripped the ground beneath her, her nails digging into the dirt as tears streamed down her face. She didn’t know who he was, but one thing was certain.

He knows me.

Her mind raced. Who was he? Why did he feel like a storm ready to consume her whole?

An hour passed, though it felt like eternity. The air had grown colder, the kind that seeped into her bones and made her limbs ache. Heidi finally forced herself to move, her legs numb as she staggered forward. Her coat was damp with dust and sweat, but she didn’t care. She just needed to get away.

She rounded the corner, only to feel a sudden, vice-like grip snake around her neck. She didn’t even see it coming. The world spun as her body locked up in fear, and her breath hitched.

“Do you remember me now?” a deep voice whispered against her ear, the words laced with menace and familiarity.

Her chest tightened, panic clawing up her throat. She squeezed her eyes shut, her voice barely a croak. “I—I don’t…”

His chuckle was low, almost amused, yet there was no kindness in it. His breath skimmed the sensitive skin of her ear, sending a wave of icy dread down her spine. “Liar,” he murmured. His arm tightened, pressing against her throat—not enough to cut off air, but enough to remind her of how little control she had.

Her hands darted up, clawing at his forearm, but it was no use. His skin was like steel beneath her fingertips, and her strength meant nothing against his unyielding grip. “I don’t know who you are!” she gasped, her voice breaking, desperate.

“Cunning,” he mused, ignoring her protests. His voice was velvet, smooth but dangerous, like the edge of a blade. “You’ve always been a cunning woman.”

She froze, the accusation twisting her stomach into knots. Her mind raced. He doesn’t know me. He can’t. He knows… this face.

“I remember,” she choked out, barely above a whisper, hoping to appease him.

The tension in his arm eased slightly but didn’t release. He tilted his head, and she could feel the heat of his gaze boring into her. “Do you?”

“Yes,” she coughed, her voice rasping from the pressure. “I… I do.”

“Then tell me,” he demanded, his lips brushing dangerously close to her ear now, “what are you doing here?”

She swallowed hard, her throat dry as she stammered, “I’m… I’m lost.”

His grip finally loosened, though his hand didn’t leave her entirely. Instead, he lingered, his fingers brushing lightly against her collarbone as though testing her sincerity. The contact sent an involuntary shiver through her body.

He let out a low laugh, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. “Lost?” he repeated, his tone dripping with disbelief. “You expect me to believe that?”

“Yes!” she insisted, her voice cracking. “I don’t know where I am. I need—”

“Help?” he interrupted, his brow arching in mockery. “You want me to help you?” He leaned closer, his breath warm against her neck now, a cruel contradiction to the cold air. “Why should I?”

Her lips parted, but no words came. She didn’t have an answer. How could she? She didn’t even know who he thought she was.

He watched her struggle, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Pathetic,” he muttered under his breath, but his hand lingered, hovering near her throat like a silent threat. Then, without warning, he reached up and yanked the scarf from around her neck.

“What are you—” she started, but the words died as he grabbed her wrists and bound them with the scarf in one smooth motion.

Her pulse spiked, her body twisting in resistance. “Let me go! You can’t—”

His dark eyes locked onto hers, silencing her with their intensity. “You think you’re in a position to make demands?” he asked, his voice calm, almost amused, but there was a storm beneath it—a quiet rage that made her blood run cold.

She bit her lip, her voice trembling. “If you can’t trust me, how can I trust you?”

His expression hardened, his jaw clenching as he leaned in so close she could feel the heat radiating from him. “You shouldn’t trust me,” he said, his tone dropping to a deadly whisper. “Not after what you did.”

Her throat tightened, her mind scrambling for an answer, for any way to diffuse the growing tension. “If I hurt you…” she began slowly, her voice wavering. “I’ll accept the consequences. But right now, I need your help.”

His eyes flickered with something—surprise, perhaps, or maybe curiosity. Either way, it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a cold, calculating stare.

“Help you with what?” he asked, his voice devoid of emotion.

“I need to get to a safe place,” she said softly, her gaze darting away from his, unable to bear the weight of his scrutiny.

He studied her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, his lips curled into a smirk that sent a chill down her spine. “Safe, huh?” He tilted his head, his gaze narrowing. “Are you running from someone?”

She froze. How did he know?

“No,” she lied quickly, shaking her head.

“Liar,” he said again, his tone almost playful this time. He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming as he stared down at her. “You gambled again, didn’t you?”

“What?” she asked, her brows knitting in confusion.

“Lost all your money,” he continued, ignoring her question. “Now the loan sharks are after you. Isn’t that it?”

She opened her mouth, but no words came. She couldn’t let him know the truth—that she wasn’t the person he thought she was.

She gave a small, reluctant nod.

He let out a short laugh, shaking his head as if amused by her audacity. “Pathetic,” he muttered again. Then, without another word, he turned and tugged on the scarf, pulling her forward like a prisoner on a leash.

His strides were long and quick, and she stumbled after him, struggling to keep up. Her wrists ached from the tightness of the scarf, but she didn’t dare complain. The air around them grew heavier, the night darker, and the sound of their footsteps echoed through the empty streets like a warning.

"Slow down," she murmured, her voice trembling, but the man ignored her. His pace remained relentless, his focus forward as if he were dragging her to a destination only he knew.

The air between them grew heavier, the silence filled with tension. Heidi couldn't take it anymore. "Where are you taking me?" she demanded, trying to pull back against the scarf, though her strength was no match for his.

He stopped abruptly, and she nearly collided with his back. Turning his head slightly, he said in a calm, cold voice, "Someplace safe. Isn’t that what you asked for?"

His words should have been reassuring, but the way he said them sent a shiver down her spine. There was no kindness in his tone, no hint of comfort—only a controlled fury masked beneath a thin veneer of civility.

"I didn't ask to be dragged like this," Heidi snapped, trying to mask her fear with indignation. "If you’re going to help me, then untie me. I can walk on my own."

He turned fully now, his piercing gaze meeting hers. The streetlight illuminated his face, and for the first time, she could see the sharp angles of his jaw, and those dark, enigmatic eyes that seemed to pierce straight through her.

"And let you run the moment I do?" he said, his voice low but laced with threat. "I don’t think so."

"I'm not going to run," she argued, though she wasn't entirely sure herself. "You can’t just keep me tied up like this. It’s... it’s wrong."

The man tilted his head, his lips curving into a smirk that made her stomach twist. "Wrong?" he echoed. "Interesting choice of words coming from someone who gambles away everything and leaves others to pick up the pieces."

Heidi flinched at the accusation, unsure how to respond without revealing the truth. She bit her lip, choosing silence, and he took a step closer, the air between them crackling with intensity.

"Nothing to say?" he taunted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I thought so."

The man turned again, tugging on the scarf to pull her forward. "Let’s go," he said over his shoulder, his tone brooking no argument.

Heidi followed, her mind racing. She had no idea where they were going or what he planned to do with her. The rain started softly, a hesitant patter against the leaves, but it soon grew heavier, relentless. It struck Heidi’s skin like icy needles, the chill soaking through her clothes and into her bones. Her breathing hitched at the cold, the air escaping her lips in uneven gasps. She dragged herself forward, her body trembling as exhaustion seeped into her limbs. The man ahead didn’t stop, didn’t even slow. He kept walking, his pace steady and unyielding, as if the rain was inconsequential to him—or as if her suffering simply didn’t matter.

Heidi’s steps faltered. The ache in her legs from walking too fast for too long, the way her dress clung to her like a damp sheet, the rain streaming into her eyes—all of it wore her down. Her breath came in uneven, shallow gasps, but she forced herself to keep going.

In the distance, a faint glow caught her eye. A tea stall stood in the shadow of the trees, the dim light from its lone bulb flickering against the storm. The old man behind the counter worked quietly, stirring steaming kettles as though oblivious to the rain’s fury.

When they reached the shop, she stopped a few feet away, instinctively keeping her distance. Her fingers flew to her face, raising her hands as a weak shield from the downpour, though it did little to help. She watched him wordlessly as he reached into his pocket, handed over money, and took a glass of steaming tea from the old man.

The rain came down harder now, merciless and deafening. Heidi’s clothes clung to her like a second skin, her body shaking from the biting cold. But the man didn’t care—or at least, he gave no sign that he did. He stood under the shed roof, taking slow, deliberate sips of his tea, the glass balanced lightly in his hand. He didn’t look at her, but he didn’t have to. The deliberate slowness of his movements, the way he stood without sparing her even a single glance, made her feel smaller, as though she were a ghost standing outside his world.

She gave in to the exhaustion tugging at her and sank onto a large rock nearby. Her arms hung limp at her sides, her soaked dress pooling around her legs. Her shoulders slumped inward as if trying to protect what little warmth she had left, but it was no use. She was freezing, and the steady rhythm of the rain only amplified her loneliness.

Finally, he looked at her. She didn’t notice at first, not until the sharp crack of lightning illuminated his face, casting shadows across the sharp lines of his jaw. She flinched at the sound, her hands twitching instinctively, and when her eyes snapped back to his, she found him watching her.

Without a word, he placed the glass back on the counter and began walking toward her. Heidi stiffened, unsure of what to expect. He stopped in front of her, giving a small nod, and she understood his silent command. Her body moved before her mind caught up, her legs trembling as she pushed herself off the rock.

He didn’t wait for her to steady herself. His hand shot out, grabbing her wrist in a firm, unrelenting grip. She stumbled forward, her arm brushing against a low-hanging branch. The jagged edge bit into her skin, tearing through the thin fabric of her sleeve. She winced, a sharp hiss escaping her lips as the pain bloomed across her arm.

He stopped. His eyes flicked to her arm, the cut now dripping a thin line of red that mingled with the rain. For a brief moment, his grip on her wrist loosened, and his face devoid of emotion, before turning away as though nothing had happened.

*****