She wasn’t just running for herself, she was running for the lives she held close.

——

Lily’s POV

The days bled into each other. It was slow, suffocating, and cruel.

Weeks passed. Still, nothing.

Martin hadn't said a word about leaving. No mention of that “quieter place” he’d hinted at with that serpent’s smile. As if he knew I was waiting. As if he was daring me to hope, just so he could take it away again.

I wasn’t a guest anymore.

I wasn’t even a prisoner.

I was a possession. Something he owned. And like any good collector, he kept me polished, fed, watched… and broken.

The shackle he’d...