تسجيل الدخولNayaThe ride back to the mansion is unbearably quiet.No one says a word. Not Tom. Not the guards. Not even my mother.She sits across from me inside the black SUV, her hands folded neatly on her lap, staring out the window as though the passing trees are far more interesting than the daughter she hasn’t seen in years.I steal glances at her every few seconds.She’s real.I keep reminding myself of that because my mind still refuses to believe it. I spent years mourning her. I blamed myself for leaving her behind that night. I carried the weight of abandoning her like a stone tied around my neck, and now she’s sitting less than three feet away from me.Alive.I should be asking her a thousand questions.Why didn’t she come looking for me? Why did she stay with Tom? Did she ever try to escape? Did she think I was dead?Instead, neither of us speaks.The silence stretches all the way back to the mansion, growing heavier with every passing mile. When the gates finally slide open, my st
NayaThe energy surrounding me flickers wildly, as though the forest itself senses the storm raging inside my chest.Mom.No… That can’t be possible. I watch her die.I remember every second of that night with painful clarity. I remember the sound of fists pounding against our front door. I remember the terror in her eyes as she shoved me toward the back exit. I remember her voice trembling as she begged me to run.“Don’t look back, Naya. Just run.” That was what she said before she stop breathing.I obey. I hate myself for obeying. That memory has haunted me for years.I still remember reaching the edge of the woods before turning around. Flames had already begun swallowing our little home. Now she’s standing only a few yards away.Alive and breathing.Looking at me with tear-filled eyes while Tom presses a knife against her throat.My heart pounds so violently that it hurts. “No…” The word barely escapes my lips. “No… you’re not real.”I shake my head violently. No, he’s trying to t
NayaThe moment I burst through the tree line, everything changes.The forest swallows the sounds of the mansion behind me. The neatly trimmed paths disappear, replaced by uneven ground covered in fallen leaves, tangled roots, and damp earth. Branches whip across my face as I run without direction, my lungs burning from weeks of confinement and months of longing.I don’t stop.I can’t.The shouting behind me grows fainter for a few precious seconds, giving me hope that maybe, just maybe, I have managed to put enough distance between myself and Tom’s men.Then the barking starts. Sharp, loud and relentless.Dogs.Of course he sends dogs.I grit my teeth and force my exhausted legs to move faster. Every breath tears through my chest, but I refuse to slow down. Freedom is somewhere ahead of me. I don’t know where, but it has to be. Anything is better than going back to that mansion.“Tyson…” I whisper between ragged breaths. “Please…”The bond between us is still painfully silent. Either
NayaA month passes before I finally understand that surviving this place and escaping it are two completely different things.At first, every day feels exactly the same. I wake up, stare at the bracelet wrapped around my wrist, and spend several hopeless minutes trying to force it loose. My fingers become raw, my wrist bruises, and my patience wears thinner with every failed attempt. The bracelet never shifts. It clings to me as though it has always belonged there, swallowing every trace of magic inside me until reaching for my powers becomes nothing more than a painful habit.Eventually, I stop fighting the bracelet.Not because I’ve accepted wearing it, but because I realize I’m wasting precious energy battling the wrong enemy. The bracelet isn’t what keeps me here. This mansion is.If I want to leave, I need to stop acting like a prisoner desperate to escape and start acting like someone patient enough to wait for the right opportunity.So I begin watching.Tom gives me exactly wh
NayaI stare at the bracelet wrapped around my wrist until my vision blurs. It doesn’t even look dangerous. Just a simple silver band etched with dark symbols that pulse faintly beneath the light.Yet it has stolen everything.My magic, my connection to the world around me. The tiny current of power I’ve carried inside me since I was old enough to understand what I was.Gone.Tom watches me quietly from the other side of the room.“I’m sorry.”The words snap something inside me. “You liar!”I yank at the bracelet again, digging my fingernails beneath the metal until my skin burns.It doesn’t budge, not even a little. “It won’t come off.”“I know.”“You tricked me!”“I protected everyone.”I laugh—a bitter, humorless sound.“Protected who?”“You.”“From what?”“Your magic.”“My magic is mine!”“And right now…” His voice remains infuriatingly calm. “…it’s unstable.”“My powers have never hurt anyone!”“They will.”“They won’t! And you have no right to decide what’s right for me!” “They
NayaI stare at the photograph until my vision begins to blur. The woman smiling back at me is my mother.There is no mistaking her, the same warm eyes.The same soft smile.The same tiny gap between her front teeth that she always tries to hide whenever she laughs.And standing beside her Is the man claiming to be my father.I should throw the picture back at him.I should call him a liar again.Instead, my fingers tighten around the worn edges as a thousand memories crash through my mind.My mother never once speaks about my father.Not once.Whenever I ask, she simply tells me that some stories belong in the past. I always think it hurts too much to remember.Now…I don’t know what to believe. I slowly place the photograph back on the table.My voice is quiet.“If…” The word catches in my throat. “If you’re really my father…”His eyes soften immediately.“…then prove it.”“I intend to.”“Then start by doing the right thing.” I fold my arms across my chest. “Let me go.”Silence.His
I woke up in a bed, surrounded by three big men. They are all huge. I pretend as if I am still unconscious.A voice booms beside me. “Open your eyes, spy. We can tell you’re awake.”I open my eyes to glare at the speaker. A tall blond man who looks about thirty-four. “You don’t need to be so loud,
Chapter TwoAs much as I would love to get myself some buzz, I can’t do that with my state of unemployment. I hardly get drunk, it takes a lot of alcohol to get me to that state. Lucky me, nothing ever works my way. Back when my mum was still alive, she used to tell me I am wasting my time trying
I nearly escape, my things packed and my key in my hand, just as I am about to lock the door, that’s when I hear footsteps.If I were living a normal life, I would have thought it was probably my neighbors returning from a latenight party. But no, nothing about my life has been normal ever since m
His fingers brush my wrist and everything Stops.It’s like a shock runs through me. Not painful. Just… overwhelming. My breath catches, my body goes still, and for a split second, the world narrows down to that single point of contact.What the hell was that?He pulls back like he’s been burned. Hi







