Morozov

Prologue

I was running along the corridors of the castle. My wavy hair was flying in the wind, I had to hold my long dress up so that I wouldn't trip. Not that it made it easier for me to run in fucking high heels.

He was close behind. Very close. Too close. I remembered times when he always was this close. I liked it back then, felt save. I even wanted it. But now all I felt was anger and fear. He was going to kill me. I was 100% sure of it. Not that I didn't deserve it. I almost got him killed as well.

"Stop running from me. You know it's no use," he demanded loud and clear, striding toward me. I don't even think he was running. Still, he somehow managed to keep up with me. "There's no escape this time."

I spotted a door and opened it, unbothered by what might be hidden in the room behind. I entered. It was a library. I needed to be quiet. No. What I needed was for either me or him to disappear. Otherwise, I didn't think I'd make it out alive.

I heard his footsteps coming closer. And then they stopped.
My heart skipped a beat or two. I didn't bother to pay attention. Not when it was probably beating it's last beats anyway.

"You have 5 seconds to step out or I'll come in," his deep, familiar voice demanded. "Five."

Trying to contain my breathing, I reached for the dagger strapped to my thigh. There was no better place for it to go so I figured lifting up the skirt of my dress and grabbing it quickly was better than coming unarmed. Because I knew he'd eventually be there, hunting me down just like he'd promised me he would.

I will hunt you down. And I will make you suffer. Slowly. Until you feel nothing but pain. Just like you made me feel.

"Four."

I gripped my dagger tighter, ready to stab as soon as this goddamn door separating me from my personal devil would open. Why did I come in here? I should've known better and kept running.

"Three. You better listen, little traitor."

At this point, I thought about just stepping out and accepting my fate. But I just couldn't. Not when there was still a slight chance of winning. I didn't know whether I was better than him, considering he was the one who trained me. But you should never underestimate yourself, right?

I quietly disappeared between the high shelves, each of them covered with thick layers of dust.

"Two."

Seconds felt like minutes, passing slowly only for me to suffer just a little longer. Or maybe, time really slowed down because whatever there was out there, whether it was some kind of a god or the Universe, it wanted me to prepare for what would happen next. Because it sure as hell would be painful and wouldn't last short.

I won't leave you alone. I will find you no matter where you think you're hiding, I will be three steps ahead. Until you can think of nothing else. I will be in your head, your skin, your soul, even. You will never get rid of me ever again. And once I'm done with you, once I've devoured every single bit of your soul, you will regret ever crossing me, little traitor.

"One," he spoke slowly with a wicked voice, probably grinning at his success. Shortly after, the doorknob turned and the door opened slowly and with a creak. I could see him through the gap of two books.
He cocked his head, a look of pity on his face as he stepped in and closed the door. "That was more than predictable. I know you're in here," he said. "I can practically smell your arousal."

I dropped my head, frustrated about just how well he knew me. Because, even if my life was a bubble, about to burst from even the slightest touch right now, my thighs were slick with my own juices.
That was the kind of reaction he pulled out of me. It has always been this way.

Right when I snapped out of my thoughts, I saw something move in my peripheral view. With my heart jumping, stopping and then going off like crazy, I turned to face him.

And there he was.
Looking just as good as he always did.

"Hello, little traitor," he said with a malicious smile on his face.
I looked at him in shock, taking steps back, my chest rising and sinking as I breathed frantically.

I turned around and took a turn into another corridor of shelves. He caught up with me in a matter of seconds, grabbing me by my waist and pulling my back against him. His other hand had me in a chokehold, lifting me up until my feet barely reached the wooden floor.
I struggled under his hold as he tightened his grip, cutting off my air supply.

I winced and swallowed a cry, pulling a laugh from his throat. "You're still miserable with this hold," he said before he brought his head down, leveling mine. His warm breath fanned the sensitive skin on my neck before he took a deep breath, taking in my scent. "You still wear the same perfume."
It's the one I wore the day I lost him. The day everything changed. The day I started to really hate myself.

"Now let's get to the good part, shall we?" he demanded, towering over me before he separated me from his body and his hand closed around my neck before my spine collided with the shelf behind me.

I aimed and brung my dagger toward him but before I was even close to reaching him, or at least slicing his skin, he had already grabbed my wrist, stopping me midway. My hand opened involuntarily from the force of his grip, dropping the blade. The metal collided with the ground, clattering loudly until it stopped.

"Tell me, little traitor, have you suffered the past few years? Have you received my messages?"
I stayed quiet, trying hard to get the least bit of oxygen into my lungs. "Answer me," he growled, his deep voice vibrating in my head. "No. I haven't," I lied only for him to tighten his grip.
This time, I couldn't suppress the cry anymore as tears brimmed my eyes. "Haven't I taught you not to lie to me?

"I will ask you again; have you suffered?" "Yes," I managed, causing him to loosen his grip slightly. I breathed in deep, taking in all the oxygen sitting in the air surrounding me.

Before I had the chance to fully collect myself, he was on top of me, pressing me into the wooden floor like all the weight of this wold was resting on him. Another burst of pain ran down my spine.
My wrists were pinned down next to my head. "Are you ready?" he asked with a malicious smile. He lost it. Completely.

When he grabbed something shiny from his pocket, I didn't bother to acknowledge it. I tried to reach for my blade, only inches away from me but only my fingertips were able to grasp it.
I was about to get frustrated when an excruciating pain took over my left arm. I screamed and I turned my gaze to it, only to see him do something to me with a blade.

I cried and kicked but it was no use. I had to endure the torture just like he'd promised me. When he was done, he kissed the spot gently. He locked eyes with me, wiping my blood off his lips with his thumb before saying,"This is only the beginning."

'Traitor' was the word inscripted into my skin.