Chapter 3 Kidnapped

She turned, her heart racing, to catch a glimpse of the person who had caused her to panic so intensely and allowed her prey to escape. However, she was left utterly stunned by what she beheld.

Her mouth literally fell agape at the sight of a young man with cascading golden locks that resembled a river of molten gold, and his piercing blue eyes fixed upon her with unmistakable intrigue.

In all honesty, she had anticipated encountering her father, not a strikingly handsome, almost ethereal individual like the one before her.

The urge to shout at him for allowing her rabbit to flee surged within her, but she wisely kept her lips sealed. She had no clue who this enigmatic figure was. He was definitely not her father.

The young man standing there was nothing short of breathtaking, and if she had to hazard a guess, he appeared to be in his early or late twenties.

Annabelle should have felt relieved at the prospect of having a companion to accompany her in the woods and aid in her rabbit-trapping endeavor, but it was quite the opposite.

The vibes emanating from him were disconcerting enough to send anyone into a state of alarm, and she was indeed alarmed. She let out a small whimper, and still, he hadn't torn his gaze from her for even a fleeting moment, nor had he uttered a single word.

Taking two cautious steps backward, vulnerability and fear began to wash over her like a relentless tide.

She was aware that she was in trouble, and standing near him felt like courting disaster. Could he be the elusive, familiar silhouette? Has he come to haunt her? She couldn't allow that to happen; she hadn't wronged anyone.

"Who are you, and what brings you here?" she demanded defiantly, though her instincts were already screaming at her to flee for her life.

But he remained silent, his unwavering gaze penetrating her, seemingly capable of peering into her soul, reading her deepest fears. She had the eerie sensation that he could hear the rhythm of her heart, even though they weren't close enough for that.

"Huh? Why aren't you saying anything? Are you deaf, or perhaps mute? What are you, some sort of fallen angel? Listen here, this is my backyard, so find another place to 'fall,' and let me enjoy some peace of mind. Stop falling into these woods all the time; there are other woods. I want to sleep soundly tonight!"

Her voice quivered; his presence had a palpable effect, and she couldn't help but notice the strange aura surrounding him.

When he remained steadfastly silent, like an imposing statue of a deity, the breeze gently tousling his hair, she began to retreat further. Her eyes locked onto his every move, ready to sprint the moment he made a move, and he was well aware of it.

Distant growls from animals disrupted her focus, causing her to turn toward the source, her face etched with fear.

But when she glanced back to where the enigmatic man had stood, her heart leaped into her throat; he was nowhere to be found. As she frantically scanned the surroundings, she spotted him emerging from the woods, from the direction where the growls had emanated.

Hadn't he been right in front of her mere seconds ago? Her mind raced with fear, and to make matters worse, twilight was descending.

Her fear overpowered her, and she listened to her instincts, fleeing the scene.

She spun around and began sprinting out of the woods, her heart pounding as if it might burst out of her chest.

With her arrow clutched tightly in her hand, she halted when she realized that her current location differed from the path she had taken to enter the woods. It was leading her deeper into the heart of the forest.

Once she was certain that there were no signs of the mysterious man, she pivoted and retraced her steps, determined to find her way back home.

...

Hunkered down behind a tree, she scoured her pockets frantically for her phone, but it was nowhere to be found.

A sinking realization set in-her phone might have slipped away during her frantic sprint.

If his gaze alone could offer her a heart seizure and made goosebumps racing across her skin, what would facing him directly do?

Tears welled up, but she resisted the urge to cry.

Ever since her mother's passing, she had cried too much, leaving her feeling drained after each bout of tears.

She carefully stepped away from her hiding spot, the urgency of finding her phone weighing on her.

Suddenly, the snap of a twig sent her spinning around, her arrow poised in her trembling hand.

Chills ran down her spine, confirming that he was close.

Glancing left at the sound of another snapped twig, she shivered, her heart nearly stopping when she saw him standing there.

It felt as though he was deliberately breaking twigs to intimidate her, and it was working; she was terrified.

Her face had gone pale, and when he gestured for her to come closer, her eyes widened in disbelief. Why would she do that? Had she lost her mind? She shook her head, muttering, "No way."

Hearing her words, he began striding towards her, causing her complexion to grow even paler.

"Don't come near me... stop," she pleaded, her arrow aimed at him, but he continued advancing.

"If you come any closer, I swear to God, I'll shoot you. Don't make me a murderer," she threatened, stepping backward. Yet, her threats seemed to have no effect, as he continued approaching.

She watched helplessly as the arrow she had loosed sailed toward him, only to be halted by an unknown force, falling harmlessly to the ground like a feather. Her eyes widened in terror.

Fear coursed through her veins, and she knew that her arrows were utterly powerless.

She continued shooting arrows at him, but a strange force seemed to protect him, preventing the arrows from drawing near, and it was discouraging; she couldn't keep up, he was getting closer.

The pain in her right arm intensified with each arrow released, and she eventually ceased firing, the wounds on her arm throbbing.

She groaned angrily and flung the arrow aside, cursing as she squatted on the ground, clutching her wounded arm.

The pain made her wince as she loosened the bandage she had used to tie her wounds.

Mirabelle hadn't wished her well by inflicting such injury on her the day she would encounter a strange god-like man.

She sensed the presence of the enigmatic man hovering nearby, and she looked up, meeting his piercing blue eyes.

Slowly, she shifted away from him, her back resting against a tree for support.

With no means of escape, she reluctantly accepted her impending fate-she might not make it out alive.

Still clutching her arm, she glared at him as though she could kill him with her gaze alone, her fists clenched at her sides, but she was terrified.

Despite his charming looks, she already despised him.

"Go ahead and kill me," she muttered under her breath, closing her eyes as if awaiting the pain of death. How would he kill her? Stabbing her with a dagger or shooting bullets into her skull?

Opening her right eye, she glanced at him, growing offended when she saw him watching her in silence. He was prolonging her agony.

And if she died, at least she could reunite with her mother.

"Just kill me already, don't you get it?! Fucking kill me already!" she yelled, her eyes fully open. Yet, he did nothing, prompting her to take off her boots and throw them at him.

Despite their close proximity, he managed to dodge the flying boots, and she grunted in anger.

The sensation of his hands on her shoulders momentarily distracted her from thoughts of death and reuniting with her mother. Sparks seemed to fly wherever he touched.

Now, all she wanted was to escape from him and never see him again.

She tried convincing herself that it was all a dream and she would wake up any moment, so she closed her eyes as she felt him tracing his fingers along her right hand, stopping just inches away from her injury.

"Little Miss, you need to stop getting into fights. If they come after you, run away. I'll take care of them. Are we clear?" she heard him ask. Her eyes snapped open, shocked by the sound of his voice. It sounded almost too perfect, and it sent a shiver down her spine. The man she had been running from might not be as bad as she thought. She shouldn't judge him solely by his godly looks, but it could all be a facade. She wouldn't listen to her inner voice telling her this.

She stared at his hand, which hovered close to her injured arm, and in the blink of an eye, she jerked her arm away, wanting to escape the strange sparks.

She wiped her arm, trying to rid herself of the tingling sensations.

She stood upright, no longer relying on the tree trunk for support.

She soothed the pain in her arm, shifting her gaze back to him.

"I thought you wanted to kill me? Yet here you are, inquiring about who hurt me after scaring me half to death. Who knows what you would have done if I'd fainted from a heart attack? Well, if you genuinely want me to stop fighting, tell those shadowy figures to stop bothering me. It's none of your business in the first place, so quit your silly pranks because I'm not interested. As you can see, I was busy before you interrupted me. Now go back home and do something meaningful with yourself," she spoke defiantly, turning to walk away. However, he held her back.

"Let go of me... you complete stranger," she attempted to pull free, but his grip remained unyielding.

"Let go; you're hurting me," she pleaded, her eyes welling with tears as he held her injured arm.

It seemed he was causing her pain intentionally, but if he expected her to cry, he had underestimated her resolve. She wouldn't shed tears.

Suddenly, he released her, a result of her biting him, and she fell roughly to the floor.

She quickly got back on her feet and tried to limp away, her leg feeling weak from its abnormal position. The pain in her leg and arm brought silent tears to her eyes.

When she turned back, she was startled to find him still standing there, watching his fingers she had bitten.

She began walking back toward him, keeping her distance.

"I'm not interested in fighting you. You're not my kind of opponent. I only want my boots; they're rather expensive," she muttered, approaching her boots, which she had thrown at him. She bent down to pick them up but cried out in pain instead.

"My leg has been sprained," she whimpered, yet she managed to retrieve her boots.

She couldn't stand up to her feet, she remained squatting, contemplating on how she would get up.

Forcefully, against the will of her body, she stood up, but cried out in pain and staggered backward.

Rather than falling to the ground, he caught her, holding her protectively.

"I didn't ask for your help; don't you understand? You caused all of this, and you've ruined my experiment, you jerk!" she yelled, wanting to struggle against him. However, she froze.

His eyes had now transformed from blue to a golden hue, and she wondered if her eyes had deceived her earlier when she saw them as blue.

"W... what are you?" she asked, feeling dizzy but still struggled to break free.

"What are you doing to me?" she added, growing more vulnerable.

She held onto him for support, struggling to keep her eyes open, but he suddenly scooped her into his arms, earning a weak yelp from her.

"This is your fate, Annabelle. You'd better accept it to make things easier, not just for me," his voice, soft as velvet, echoed in her ears before he gently covered her eyes with his palm, and her vision faded into unconsciousness.

"Boss, are you abducting her?" she heard another man's voice inquire, making it evident that she was being taken by a gang leader. The man who held her was a gang leader.

"She left me no choice," the enigmatic man who had carried her replied, starting to move away. However, the sudden snap of his fingers in front of her face sent her into complete unconsciousness.