The Princess and The Criminal [ CAITVI ]

3 | Unexpected Encounter

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Vi's POV
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"So it was true," I said, keeping my voice low and steady, trying not to startle her—like you would with a wary cat.

We locked eyes. The silence between us felt heavy, stretching out longer than it should. I could feel the weight of her fear, but there was something else beneath it. Something far more complicated.

Then, without warning, her scream sliced through the quiet, a raw, blood-curdling shriek of terror that made my chest tighten.

I lunged forward, hands raised in defense. "Hey! Stop screaming! I'm not—"

She didn't hear me. Instead, she started throwing anything she could get her hands on—vases, books, whatever wasn't nailed down. I dodged and deflected as best as I could, but damn, she wasn't giving up without a fight.

"Stay back, intruder!" Her voice quivered, but the command was there, a desperate defiance that told me this wasn't just fear; this was survival. She was visibly shaken, but her voice didn't waver. She was trying to hold her ground.

Before I could react, a loud thud echoed from outside the door, freezing both of us in place.

Her eyes darted to the door, then back at me, panic spiking again.

"Don't you dare," I warned, giving her a look that could melt steel. But of course, she ignored me.

In one fluid motion, she bolted toward the door, her voice rising in frantic desperation. "Guards!"

I didn't think; instinct took over.

My hand shot out, covering her mouth to quiet her. The other arm wrapped tightly around her waist, pinning her to the nearest wall. My body pressed against hers, and I could feel her pulse hammering, her breath quick and shallow against my palm.

Her body went stiff, every muscle fighting against me, nails digging into my forearm as she twisted and squirmed. She wasn't giving up, and neither was I.

"Stop," I growled, voice low but commanding. "You're only making this worse."

She didn't stop. Her body jerked violently, trying to break free."Calm down," I urged, tightening my grip just enough to make her realize she wasn't getting away. "I'm not here to hurt you."

Gradually, she gave in, her movements slowing down. Her breath, still rapid, began to even out. But her heart—hell, her heart was still racing.

The sound of footsteps echoed outside the door, heavy and hurried. "Looks like someone already grabbed her. Move out."

I held my breath, waiting for the footsteps to fade. My gaze never left the door, watching the shadows shift beneath.

When the sound of retreating footsteps finally reached my ears, I whispered, "I'm going to let go, but if you scream again, I'll knock you out cold. Got it?"

She nodded, her cheek brushing against my palm as she exhaled shakily, taking in the situation. The panic in her eyes was still there, but there was something else too—a wariness. A fragile acceptance, maybe.

I loosened my grip, pulling my hand away from her mouth, my other arm easing away from her torso. I didn't back off, though. Not yet. Not until I was sure we were in the clear.

She gasped. Her chest rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths, trying to catch her breath as if she hadn't had any air for hours.

I stepped back, still wary, keeping my eyes on her. "Alright, princess," I said, my voice gruff. "Ask your questions."

Her gaze flickered between fear and something else—something sharp, almost like she was deciding whether to trust me, or whether she should be more afraid. Her voice came out soft, but there was an edge to it, a defensive tone that didn't match her appearance.

"Who are you? What do you want with me?" she demanded, her voice strained with uncertainty.

I exhaled slowly, narrowing my gaze. "Let's make this quick," I muttered, studying her face. "I'm not one of the intruders. The queen—she locked me away. Falsely accused me of murder. I'm using you to get to her. Once I'm free, I'll let you go."

Her mouth opened, probably ready to demand more answers, maybe to shout again. But she hesitated. Her eyes locked onto mine, her breath catching as if she was searching for a lie—looking for something, anything, that didn't match what I was saying.

Great, another painful silence.

The noise outside the room felt distant now, like we were in our own world, suspended in the quiet.

Finally, her voice broke the stillness, tight and cautious. "So..." She arched an eyebrow, studying my expressions. "You're not trying to hurt me?"

"No." I said, my voice sharper than I intended, but I couldn't soften it—not now. I could see the doubt in her eyes—the suspicion, like she was waiting for me to slip up.

I lowered my tone, trying to keep things steady. "But don't give me a reason to."

The words came out more pointed than I intended, but they weren't a threat—they were a reminder. A warning. But I saw something change in her expression, a shift that I couldn't quite place. Was it relief? Or maybe just more doubt?

Either way, I wasn't sticking around to find out.

Without another word, I grabbed her hand, pulling her towards the exit before she could protest.

She jerked back, "Wait! You can't just—"

"Quiet," I snapped, my voice firm with urgency. I didn't have time for another outburst, not now. I checked the corridor quickly, making sure it was clear, then yanked her forward.

The chaos outside was deafening—a constant hum of shouts, gunfire, the distant roar of war—but I kept my focus sharp. We had to move.

Her hand in mine trembled—soft, delicate. But it still felt like a weight, a reminder that everything was spiraling faster than I could control. I hated how it made me feel, but there was no time to dwell on it. I couldn't afford to get distracted.

A sudden noise shattered the silence—too close. A door slamming open somewhere down the hall.

"Shit," I cursed under my breath, adrenaline spiking.

Without hesitation, I dragged her into the nearest room, slamming the door behind us. We dropped to the floor, low and fast, both of us pressed against the cold stone.

My pulse thudded in my ears as I peered through a crack in the window, watching for any sign of movement outside. A guard passed by, oblivious. Heavy steps, uncoordinated, too loud to be of any real threat.

I let out a low, frustrated laugh. "Can't even guard a hallway properly..." I shook my head. "Who even recruits these idiots?"

I glanced at her, waiting for a reaction. But she didn't even flinch. Her face was pale, tense, all the fight drained out of her. She was clearly overwhelmed, and I couldn't blame her. She'd been through hell in the last few hours, and now she was stuck with someone who, as far as she knew, was her captor.

"Look," I said, my tone softer than before, despite myself. "No one's going to hurt you. Once I get what I need from your mother, I'll bring you right back to her."

She stared at me, her mouth open like she was about to speak, but then her expression twisted. The panic returned full force.

"No," she whispered, her voice thick with fear. "No, don't take me back to her."

I frowned, confusion creasing my brow. "What do you mean? She's your—"

"I don't care who she is!" she snapped, shaking her head so violently it was like she was trying to force the memories out of her mind.

Her voice faltered, the tremor still there, but there was something else too.

"Just don't take me back."

I stared at her, caught off guard by the desperation in her words. The confusion I felt only deepened.

. . .

What the hell is going on here?