The Princess and The Criminal [ CAITVI ]

4 | The Escape

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Vi's POV
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"Just don't take me back."

Her voice cuts through the air like a shard of ice, fragile and sharp. I stop dead in my tracks, the words hitting me harder than I'd expected. The princess, the one they call perfect, untouchable, poised—pleading to be spared from her own mother?

I tighten my grip, trying to suppress the sudden rush of confusion. "You really think I can just take you and leave?" I spit the words out, "What happens when the queen sends every soldier in the kingdom after us? What happens when they track us down like animals? They'll kill you—and me right along with you."

Her eyes—dark, fierce, alive with a kind of defiance I didn't expect—lock onto mine, steady as a heartbeat.

"I don't care," she snaps, voice trembling but resolute. "I can't go back to her. I'll die before I let her turn me into something I'm not."

The words hit harder than they should. I want to shout, to tell her she doesn't get it, that she didn't know the first thing about turning into something you're not. But something in the way she says it—something raw and real—stops me. My voice came out lower than I expected.

"I've been locked up for five years, surviving hell. Your mother threw me into a pit and made me fight for every breath. I don't get to walk away from that. My voice cracks, but I force the words out. "I'm not giving up my life for a princess I barely even know."

She flinches, just slightly, and something in me snaps back. The movement is enough to make me hesitate, and suddenly, my words feel heavier than I meant them to.

"I didn't ask you to," she murmurs, quieter now, the sharpness fading. Her voice is colder, "But I won't go back to her. Not alive. Not ever."

Her words hang in the air between us. The silence stretches long, painful, filling every inch of space in the hallway. I can hear the distant shuffle of footsteps, the faint clink of armor from the Intruders behind us. But for a moment, all I can hear is her voice, a soft plea that shakes me in a way I don't want it to.

I want to look away, to keep moving, to stay focused. But I can't. Not when she sounds like this, like a piece of glass about to shatter. But before I can think too much on it, I hear the unmistakable sound of boots—Intruders.

"We don't have time to argue," I growl, pulling her toward the nearest doorway, my grip tight on her wrist. She tugs against me, but I didn't let go. No hesitation, not now when intruders march down the hall, threatening both of our lives.

"We need to move," I continue, my voice steady despite the chaos swirling in my chest.

"Unhand me!" she protested, planting her feet as she tugs against me. "I won't go with you! Not if you're just going to take me right back to this palace!" Her voice rises, sharp and fierce, like a warning.

My boots hit the ground with a heavy thud.

Damn it, I'm trying to save her life here. If those intruders find her, shoes done for, and she knows that. So why is she being so damn difficult?

"I'm not your damn hostage!" she yells, her voice cracking with frustration as she tugs at my grip again. She stumbled forward, nearly tripping over the uneven floorboards. "And I can walk perfectly fine without you dragging me like luggage!"

"Great," I snapped without looking back. "Walk faster, then."

She twisted her arm in my grasp, glaring at me. "I mean it—let me go! I'm not some—"

A shout from behind cuts her off, the unmistakable clatter of intruders moving closer. She began weighing her options, her breath coming in shallow gasps as the wheels turned behind her eyes.