Harry Styles, a secret service agent working for British intelligence is tasked with finding the killer after a series of brutal but calculated murders across Europe. His mind is sharp, he's smart, arrogant and works with a precision that leaves no...
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Winter
The door to Roman's office opened slowly, the old hinges creaking as they dragged against rusted metal. The sound echoed through the room, loud enough to make my eyes open, though I hadn't even realised they'd been closed. My body ached from my injuries. My throat was raw, every swallow was painful. My muscles were stiff from being crammed inside this cage for so long. Everything hurt badly enough that it felt as though I'd been trapped here for hours, and judging by the pale light creeping through the gaps in the curtains, despite them being drawn shut, I knew it was sunrise. I'd been here all night. At some point, I must have fallen asleep. Or passed out.
Harry was gone. Roman was gone. I didn't remember either of them leaving. The last thing I remembered was watching Roman carve a cross into Harry's chest.
The room was still too dark to see properly, but I stayed silent anyway, as though if I made myself small enough, quiet enough, Roman might somehow forget I was here. He'd leave me locked away and leave me alone. He wouldn't come back. He wouldn't hurt me anymore.
I squeezed my eyes shut again, not wanting them to adjust to the light. I didn't want to see him walking towards me. Didn't want to hear his voice taunting me. I couldn't take any more of it. My body felt as though it was on the verge of giving up entirely, and I didn't know how much fight I had left. If Harry wasn't somewhere nearby, injured and bleeding and still fighting to stay alive, I think I would have stopped fighting too.
"Hiya, Frosty."
My eyes flew open.
I pushed myself upright, so fast pain shot through my entire body. Instinctively, I shoved my hand through the gaps in the bars, reaching for him before I even properly saw him. I needed to know he was real. I needed to know my mind wasn't playing tricks on me. That Roman wasn't forcing me to see things that weren't there.
"Niall." I was crying before I'd even finished saying his name. "Oh my God, Niall."
Behind him stood Louis. He stepped inside and quietly closed the door before flicking on the lights. The room flooded with brightness, and suddenly I could see them both properly. Unharmed. Alive. Standing right in front of me.
Niall immediately dropped to his knees in front of the cage. He reached through the bars and took my outstretched hand between both of his, holding it carefully seeing quickly just how injured I was.
"Hey," he breathed softly. "We're here. We're here. It's okay."
Beside him, Louis crouched down to inspect the lock keeping me trapped. It was old and rusted, its metal was stained orange with age. It looked like something Roman had owned for years, something he'd used before. A cage for his pets. A cage for his birds.
I shook my head. Niall was holding my hand, but I still couldn't quite believe any of this was real.
