Twisted Devotion

Thirty Four

The air was crisp and biting, tinged with the scent of pine and the faint promise of winter settling in for good. Snowflakes drifted lazily, blanketing the trees in a soft, sparkling white. Ava breathed in deeply, letting the cold fill her lungs and the serenity of the forest wrap around her. For the first time in weeks, she felt the familiar sense of calm, as if this quiet world of snow could wash away the memories of captivity.

Dominic was a few paces ahead, chopping wood by the side of the cabin. His back was to her, shoulders moving with each swing of the axe. Despite the tension she had always felt around him, Ava was beginning to recognize a new side of Dominic—a man shaped by a past she didn't understand yet but felt was deeper and darker than she initially thought. He was still her captor, yes, but as the weeks had passed, he had become something else: a strange, unlikely constant in this isolated world.

She took a few steps away from the cabin, enchanted by the snow's softness underfoot. She hadn't seen snow like this in years, and for a fleeting moment, it reminded her of home.

Just as she was lost in her thoughts, her foot caught on something buried beneath the snow. Before she knew it, she was tumbling forward, her hands instinctively reaching out to catch herself. A sharp, searing pain shot through her palms and her knee as they made contact with a jagged rock hidden beneath the surface. She let out a small cry, more from the shock than the pain, and immediately saw the red blooming against the stark white.

Before she could even gather her thoughts, Dominic was by her side, his face etched with concern as he knelt down beside her. "Ava," he said, his voice rough but steady. "What happened? Let me see."

Without waiting for her reply, he gently lifted her, one arm under her legs and the other around her back. His warmth was a stark contrast to the icy chill of the snow, and she couldn't help but lean into him, her usual resistance weakened by pain and the closeness of his embrace.

Once inside, he set her down on the old couch and knelt in front of her, his hands surprisingly gentle as he carefully examined her injured hands and knee. Ava's skin tingled under his touch, but she said nothing, watching him closely as he fetched a first aid kit from the shelf. She was still in pain, but a strange warmth unfurled in her chest, something she hadn't expected to feel—trust.

"Hold still," he murmured, his eyes focused intently on her as he cleaned her cuts, his brows drawn in concentration. "This might sting."

Ava winced but didn't pull away. She was transfixed, watching as this man—this fierce, almost impenetrable person who had taken her from her life—tended to her with such care. His eyes softened for the briefest moment as he wrapped her knee in gauze, almost as if he, too, was surprised by his own tenderness.

When he finished, he looked up at her, and their eyes met. For the first time, she saw a flicker of something raw and unguarded in him, a glimpse into the parts he tried so hard to keep hidden. She realized then that perhaps, out here in the wild, he was as lost as she was.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Dominic's gaze lingered on her, his face unreadable. For a second, she thought he might pull away, retreat back into the shadows of himself where she could never follow. But he stayed, his hand brushing a stray hair from her face. "Be careful next time," he said softly, his voice holding an unexpected warmth. "I can't have you getting hurt out here."

In that moment, Ava saw him differently. He was still her captor, yes, but here in the solitude of the cabin, he was also her protector. The lines between them had begun to blur, and she could no longer tell if her heart was racing from fear or something else entirely.

As Dominic turned to clean up, she let her fingers brush over the bandages he had wrapped so carefully. The cuts would heal, but something deeper had shifted—something that could never be unwound.