His Blood Her Battle

"Run," he says with the voice of the devil. "Run from me. But I swear the moment I find you, you will be dragged down to Hades with me, and will never see the light of dawn ever again."

I was stolen. Sold to the highest bidder. A plaything for men who see me as nothing more than something to be used.

But I am not alone. He is here too . . . the boy with haunted eyes and a touch that burns, his hands demanding and desperate, aching to own every inch of me, to carve his name into my skin, to make me his in a world that was never meant to let us have each other. He is my protector in a world that wants to break us, a warrior who would bleed, suffer, and die before he lets them lay another hand on me.

And then there's him.

The man who lurks in the shadows. Who hunts me like a beast stalking its prey. Who whispers promises of ruin and devotion in the same breath.

He says I am his. That no matter where I run, he will always drag me back.

But I am not a doll to be owned. I am a girl who refuses to be broken. And if they think I will stay silent, stay weak, stay theirs . . .

They've already lost.

**This story contains themes of rape, violence, sexual assault, and dubious consent. Reader discretion is strongly advised. This is not a love triangle. There is only one choice and one love.**