The Dark Trinity

Chapter 11

Amelia wandered aimlessly through the corridors of the palace, her footsteps light against the marble floors but her mind heavy with thoughts. Every corner she turned felt colder.

She hugged her arms around herself, trying to steel her resolve, but her thoughts betrayed her.

Her steps slowed as she passed through an arched hallway lined with high windows. The sunlight streamed in, casting golden patterns on the floor, but even the light felt oppressive here. She stopped and pressed her forehead against the cool stone of the wall, closing her eyes to block out the world. For a moment, she just stood there, letting the cold seep into her skin, grounding her.

The sound of approaching footsteps jolted her from her thoughts. She pushed off the wall, straightening her posture, and turned just in time to collide with something solid. The impact sent her stumbling back a step, and she barely managed to catch herself before falling.

She looked up, her apology dying on her lips as she met the eyes of the man before her. Her body froze, her breath caught in her throat.

He towered over her, a living embodiment of strength and menace. His broad chest rose and fell steadily beneath his dark leather armor, his frame imposing even in the wide corridor. Golden hair, slightly disheveled, framed a face marked by a jagged scar that ran from his temple to his jawline. His features were sharp, angular, and unforgiving. His blue eyes, cold and piercing, bore down on her with a fury that sent a chill through her very soul.

Her lips parted, a whisper escaping before she could stop herself. “Viktor...”

His name hung in the air between them, but it did nothing to soften the rigid lines of his face. For a moment, there was silence, the kind that pressed down on her chest and made it hard to breathe. Then his expression hardened further, his jaw tightening

Without warning, his hand shot out and grabbed a fistful of her hair. Amelia gasped, her hands instinctively flying to his wrist as he yanked her toward him.

“Viktor, please—” she began, her voice trembling, but he cut her off with a low growl

He didn’t wait for her to respond. His grip tightened, and he began dragging her down the hallway. The pain in her scalp was immediate and sharp, sending tears springing to her eyes. She stumbled as she tried to keep up with his long strides, her hands still clawing at his wrist in a futile attempt to loosen his hold.

“Viktor, stop!” she pleaded, her voice cracking under the strain. “Please, just let me—”

“Silence,” he barked, his tone brooking no argument.

Amelia’s heart pounded in her chest, fear clawing at her throat.

She struggled against him, digging her heels into the polished floor, but it was no use. Viktor was too strong, his grip too firm. He hauled her through the palace like she weighed nothing, his pace never faltering. The corridors blurred around her, the familiar surroundings becoming a dizzying haze as she fought to keep her footing.

Pain radiated from her scalp with every step, each tug of his hand sending fresh waves of agony through her body. Her breathing was ragged, her chest heaving with effort as she tried to keep up, tried to make sense of what was happening.

“Viktor, please,” she whispered again, her voice barely audible.

But he didn’t respond. His face was set in a grim, determined scowl, his jaw clenched tight. The only sound was the echo of their footsteps and the occasional muffled gasps that escaped Amelia’s lips.

Finally, the grand doors of the throne room came into view. Amelia’s heart sank at the sight of them, her fear intensifying.

“No,” she muttered, shaking her head. “Viktor, don’t—”