Navi
The room felt like it was closing in on Nihal with every step he took. His shadow loomed large on the floor, almost swallowing me whole. My lungs were on fire, but I couldn't catch my breath—each inhale caught between a mix of fear and disbelief.
He halted just inches away, close enough for me to feel the warmth radiating from him, close enough that his cologne—dark, musky, and intoxicating—clashed with the sharp antiseptic smell that filled the air. My mind screamed at me to push him away, to run, but my body betrayed me, frozen and trembling under the weight of his presence.
"Look at you," Nihal said softly, his voice low and almost tender—but there was an edge to it, something that cut deep. His fingers brushed against a strand of my hair, tucking it behind my ear as if he had every right to do so. "Terrified… yet you can't look away from me, can you?"
My chest tightened, a sob threatening to break free. I forced myself to meet his gaze, and what I saw there sent chills down my spine. It wasn't emptiness or madness. No, it was something far worse—an intelligence, sharp and alive, as if every move had been planned out, and I was just stumbling through the script.
"I saw those pictures of your dead body," I whispered, my voice raw. "I saw the reports, the witnesses—everything said you were gone. How are you standing here?"
A slow, mocking smile spread across his lips. "Death is easy to fake, Navi. Especially when the world is so eager to believe it. They needed a body? I gave them one. They needed a story? I wrote it. And you…" His gaze hardened, locking onto mine. "…you were the perfect ending to that story."
My stomach twisted in knots. "Ending?"
"You were fragile. Lost. Your illness made you unreliable in their eyes. Who better to frame, who better to bury under lies, than a girl already doubted by everyone she knows?" His words coiled around me, each one tightening its grip until I could barely think.
I stumbled back, my shoulders hitting the wall. He followed without a moment's pause, trapping me in with one hand pressed beside my head, the other trailing down my arm until his fingers wrapped around my wrist. My heart raced against his grip, wild and frantic.
"Let me go!" I gasped, struggling, but his hold only tightened—not harsh, not violent, but steady and intentional, as if to remind me how pointless it was to resist.
"You think you want freedom?" Nihal whispered, his face drawing closer, his breath warm against my cheek. "You don't even understand what that means. Out there, they'll tear you apart—bit by bit—until there's nothing left. But with me…" His lips brushed so close to my ear that I shivered. "…you're untouchable. With me, you matter."
A sick wave of confusion crashed over me. Fear and something else—something dangerous—clashed within me, twisting my insides until I couldn't tell them apart. His closeness was suffocating, unbearable, yet a part of me—traitorous and weak—yearned to lean into it, to hold onto something solid in this storm of betrayal.
Tears blurred my vision. "You used me. You ruined me. Why are you doing this?"
For the first time, his expression flickered, something sharp giving way to a glimpse of darkness so raw it almost resembled pain. He leaned in even closer, his forehead nearly touching mine, his voice dropping to a whisper meant just for me.
"Because, Navi…" His thumb traced the line of my jaw, slow and deliberate, igniting terror and something else I couldn't quite name. "You were the only thing that ever felt real. And I will burn this entire city down before I let anyone take you away from me."
The words struck like a blade—part promise, part threat—and I felt the world tilt again, the ground beneath me disappearing.
"Take me away from him?
Who?
Who could possibly want to take me away from him?
I don't even know this man.
To me, he is nothing but a stranger."
Maybe in the dead of night, when my body betrayed me, it craved his closeness—but that was just a physical need, not my mind or my heart. In the bright light of day, he was just a stranger to me. So where did this feeling of possession, this obsession, this audacity to claim me come from?
I know nothing about him. So why all of this?
Every word, every gesture now feels like a flimsy excuse—an alibi crafted too perfectly. A mask hiding some darker truth… some crime far worse than what I was accused of. His intentions were never about love or connection. It was about using me, robbing me of my freedom, tarnishing my name, and leaving me to face the consequences while he walked away unscathed. The painful days I spent behind bars echo with his lies, with the betrayal woven into every glance, every touch.
No—this wasn't madness or infatuation. This was a calculated move. Somewhere beneath it all, he had a reason, a cold motive, a plan meticulously crafted. And I… I was nothing but a pawn in his game. His sacrifice.
My instincts scream that he is dangerous—calculating, manipulative, a master of deceit. I cannot—will not—fall into that trap of smooth words and intoxicating obsession again. But inside me, a battle rages. My mind tells me to stay away, yet my body… my treacherous body… fights back with every pulse, every breath, pulling me toward him against all reason.
And in that suffocating closeness—caught between fear and an inexplicable pull—one truth settled into me like poison in my veins:
This man will be my undoing."
My back pressed so hard against the wall that I felt like I might just melt into it, but there was Nihal—towering and unyielding, his grip on my wrist like a vice. His breath brushed against my cheek, steady and self-assured, while I struggled to breathe, each gasp scraping my throat raw.
"Let me go," I whispered again, but even I could hear how it sounded more like a plea than a demand.
Nihal's eyes narrowed, inscrutable. "You still don't get it, do you? You're mine now. They've already claimed you as such. If you step out that door, you'll be hunted. If you stay…" His grip shifted, moving up to my arm, his thumb brushing against the frantic rhythm of my pulse. "…you'll live."
My chest tightened, a mix of heat and dread coiling inside me until I thought I might choke. For a fleeting moment, I caught a glimpse of something almost human flicker across his face, a vulnerability hidden beneath all that menace. It vanished in an instant, but it was enough to rattle me—to remind me that not all monsters wear a monstrous face.
Then Dr. Sen's voice sliced through the tension like a knife.
"Enough, Nihal. You're frightening her."
Frightening me? He'd done far worse—he'd handed me over, locked me in this room with the devil himself. I shot a look at him, betrayal coursing through my veins. "You knew," I said, my voice cracking, trembling. "You knew he was alive. You used me."
Sen's expression remained infuriatingly calm. "I protected you, Navi. More than you realize."
"No!" The word erupted from my throat. "You trapped me!"
My heart raced so loudly it drowned out the stillness of the room. Nihal's shadow loomed over me, heavy and suffocating, while Dr. Sen's quiet betrayal sliced through me like a knife. In that moment, something deep inside me—something I'd been holding onto for dear life—finally broke.
"No," I whispered, my voice trembling but sharp enough to cut through the tension. "I'm not your pawn. I refuse to be your victim."
Nihal's smile stretched wider, slow and cruel, as if he was relishing my fear. "Oh? The little bird thinks she can fight back?"
My gaze flicked to the desk. Scissors. Just ordinary scissors, glinting like a lifeline. He was too caught up in his own menace to notice my hand darting forward.
I didn't think twice. I just grabbed them and swung.
The blade grazed his arm, ripping through skin, and blood welled up in a thin red line. His smirk vanished in an instant. The playful cruelty in his eyes shifted to something far more predatory.
"Bad choice," he said, his voice low and menacing.
Adrenaline surged through me, drowning out all rational thought. I pushed past him, the chair crashing behind me, my lungs burning as if they'd forgotten how to breathe. Dr. Sen tried to block my path, but I hurled the scissors at the window instead. The glass shattered in a cacophony of sound and shards. A nurse screamed outside.
And I ran.
Down the corridor, into the blinding daylight, my body moving faster than my mind could keep up. The street hit me like a storm—horns blaring, people staring, my legs trembling beneath me. I had no idea where I was headed. All I knew was that every step away from Nihal felt like a breath of fresh air.
But escape wasn't the same as freedom. I realized that even as I stumbled forward.
My phone buzzed violently in my pocket. My hands shook so much I nearly dropped it when I pulled it out. The screen lit up with a new message from the number that haunted my nightmares.
Run, little bird. Run as fast as you can. You'll never leave the cage.