STOLEN

{ This isn't your typical historical romance }

"I'll never love you," she hissed, pressing herself against the cold, damp stone. "Not now. Not ever."

He emerged from the shadows, silent as a predator, eyes glinting like black fire. "You think I care for your consent?" His voice was low, dangerous, curling around her like smoke. "I don't want your love. Not if I have to beg for it."

"Then leave me!" she snapped, trying to steady her trembling hands. " I'm begging you please let me go."

He laughed, a sharp, cruel sound that scraped along the dungeon walls. "Go? No. I don't leave what belongs to me." His step was deliberate, predatory, shrinking the space between them. "You'll learn... piece by piece, every gasp, every denial... until you forget you ever hated me."

Her pulse quickened. "You... you can't-"

"I already have," he whispered, closing the distance. "And you'll learn something else. Hatred and desire are threads of the same chain. You'll crave me. You'll burn for me. And every moment you resist... it only feeds me, it only strengthens the fire between us."

"I... I won't," she said, trembling, yet unable to step away.

"You can fight," he said softly, almost tenderly, "but fighting will only bring you closer. You feel it already, don't you? The pull? The need?"

Her breath caught, and for a moment the dungeon seemed to shrink, shadows pressing close. "I... I hate you," she whispered, but even she knew it was a lie.

"And I love you," he said, his voice low, lethal, and suffocating. "In a way that will consume us both, whether you want it or not. There is no escape, never has been, never will be."

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