The night was cruel, just like the man hunting him. Lior’s lungs burned as he ran, his bare feet slamming against the cold pavement. The neon lights of the city blurred, and the rain soaked through his torn clothes, making it harder to move. But he didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop.
Not when he was chasing him.
A sharp turn into a dark alley. A moment of silence. He pressed himself against the cold brick wall, forcing shallow breaths. Maybe he had lost him. Maybe—
A firm hand clamped around his wrist.
"You think you can outrun me?" The voice was smooth, dark, edged with something more dangerous than anger. Amusement.
Lior gasped as he was yanked backward, his body colliding against solid warmth. Caine's grip was unyielding, his presence suffocating. The cold scent of rain and something richer—leather, smoke, and power—wrapped around Lior, making his stomach twist.
"Let me go," he hissed, thrashing. But Caine only tightened his hold, his fingers pressing into Lior’s wrist like shackles.
"I bought you," Caine murmured, his voice calm. "You belong to me."
Lior trembled. That word—belong—it scraped against old wounds, reopened scars he had spent years trying to forget.
"I am not yours," he snarled, wrenching himself away, but Caine was faster.
A sharp pull, a stumble, and suddenly, Lior’s back was slammed against the alley wall. Caine's hand came up, fingers gripping Lior’s chin, forcing their eyes to meet.
Lior's breath hitched. He had seen these eyes before. Cold. Emotionless. A void of darkness that swallowed everything whole. Caine’s fingers brushed against Lior’s throat, feeling the rapid pulse beneath his skin. "I could break you so easily," he mused, his tone unreadable. "Yet you keep running."
Lior’s teeth clenched. "Because I’m not a pet. I will never be yours."
Caine chuckled, the sound slow and deliberate, as if he found Lior’s resistance amusing. "We’ll see."
The words were a promise, a warning.
Then, without another word, he released Lior.
The sudden lack of contact sent Lior stumbling forward, his body still braced for the fight. He turned to glare at Caine, expecting him to seize him again. But Caine only took a step back, watching him with something unreadable in his expression.
Lior didn’t understand. Why let him go now?
But then Caine spoke, voice laced with quiet authority.
"Run, if you want. But you’ll never be free of me."
And somehow, those words terrified Lior more than anything else.
Because deep down, he knew Caine was right.
No matter how far he ran, no matter how hard he fought—
Caine would always find him.
And maybe… just maybe… a part of Lior wanted to be found.
