CHAPTER 2 — "THE KING'S MARK"
The storm had swallowed the night whole by the time Adrian dragged Sienna out of the ruined chapel.
His grip on her wrist was iron—unbreakable, cold, possessive.
Not guiding her.
Not helping her.
Claiming her.
She stumbled over broken stone, blood, rainwater, but he didn't slow.
Behind them, his men finished clearing the bodies with ruthless precision.
"Boss," one of them called. "Car's ready."
Adrian didn't bother to answer.
His attention stayed fixed on the girl he had no reason—no logic—to spare.
Sienna swallowed hard as they reached a sleek black armored SUV.
Two men opened the door for their king.
Adrian shoved her inside first.
Not gently.
She hit the leather seat with a startled gasp.
He slid in beside her, shutting the door with a soft, final click—the kind that sounded like a coffin sealing.
The engine growled.
The city lights blurred.
Silence pressed down like a blade.
Sienna's breath shook. "Where… where are you taking me?"
Adrian leaned back, blood still splattered across his jaw, his shirt clinging to carved muscle.
He didn't look at her.
He didn't need to.
"Somewhere you won't die."
"That's not an answer."
Finally, he turned—those icy eyes pinning her in place.
"It's the only answer you get."
She flinched.
Adrian watched the movement with unsettling stillness.
He didn't enjoy fear—not the ordinary kind. It bored him.
But this girl's fear was different.
Quiet.
Controlled.
Not loud and pathetic… but swallowed down, forced into silence.
Not fear that begged.
Fear that endured.
He tilted his head the way a predator studies a creature that doesn't react how it should.
"Why weren't you screaming back there?" he asked suddenly.
She looked out the window, voice low. "Screaming doesn't save anyone."
"A girl who knows that," he murmured, "has seen things."
Her fingers tightened on her torn shirt.
She didn't answer.
He smirked.
"Keep your secrets, lamb. I'll learn them eventually."
The car hit a sharp turn.
Rain slammed against the glass.
Sienna watched the city blur by—dark alleys, neon signs, silent streets.
A world she recognized… yet didn't belong to.
And now she belonged to something much worse.
She whispered, barely audible, "Are you going to hurt me?"
Adrian didn't answer immediately.
The silence stretched until she felt her heartbeat choking her.
Then—
"If I wanted to hurt you," he said softly, "you wouldn't be breathing."
Her entire body went cold.
"But…"
He leaned closer, his hand gripping the back of her seat.
"…I don't hurt what I own. I destroy what threatens it."
Sienna's pulse thundered.
"Own?" she echoed.
"Yes."
His voice lowered to a dark rumble.
"You walked into my kill zone. You looked at me. You survived when no one else did."
His eyes deepened, sharp as a blade's edge.
"That makes you mine."
She forced out a laugh—thin, desperate.
"You can't just claim people."
Adrian's smile was lethal.
"Watch me."
---
The car pulled into a secluded estate outside the city.
Tall gates opened like jaws.
Guards lined the driveway, armed, silent, trained like shadows.
The mansion loomed—black stone, towering columns, windows glowing like eyes watching the world.
Rain ran off the roof in sheets.
Sienna's heart dropped.
This wasn't a home.
It was a fortress.
A predator's den.
Adrian stepped out first.
Guards bowed their heads.
"Boss."
"Sir."
He ignored them.
He reached back into the car and grabbed Sienna's chin, forcing her gaze up to his.
"Rule one," he said.
"Don't run."
She trembled. "And if I do?"
He brushed his thumb across her throat—slow, cold, deliberate.
"Then I'll break you in ways that will make you wish I'd left you in that chapel."
Her breath stuttered.
He released her, stepping back.
"Get out."
For a moment she stayed frozen.
But something in his gaze—something merciless and absolute—pulled her body into motion.
She stepped out into the rain.
The guards didn't look at her.
They didn't speak.
But she felt their curiosity like heat on her skin.
Adrian walked ahead without waiting.
Sienna hurried behind him, soaked, shaking, heart tearing itself apart.
Inside, the mansion was worse.
Too quiet.
Too polished.
Too… empty.
Like the home of someone who didn't live—
just existed.
Adrian stopped at the bottom of a massive staircase lined with dark marble.
He turned to her.
"You'll stay in the east wing."
Sienna blinked. "And… for how long?"
His eyes hardened.
"For as long as I decide."
Her throat tightened.
Her voice cracked. "Please… just let me go. I won't—"
Before she could finish, he crossed the distance in a heartbeat.
His hand slammed against the wall beside her head.
"Don't," he hissed.
"Don't beg. Don't plead. Don't insult me by pretending you matter enough to erase what you saw."
Tears finally slipped from her eyes.
He watched them fall.
Slow.
Silent.
Intrigued.
Not moved.
Just… interested.
"Sienna," he murmured, his voice deadly soft.
"You walked into hell tonight."
His finger traced a tear down her cheek.
"And hell doesn't return what it takes."
Footsteps echoed through the hall—one of Adrian's lieutenants approaching.
"Boss," he said, bowing slightly. "The chapel is clean. No witnesses besides the girl."
Adrian smirked.
"Not a witness," he corrected.
"A possession."
The lieutenant's eyes flicked to Sienna briefly.
"Should I prepare her room?"
"No," Adrian said.
Sienna's heart froze.
He turned to her slowly, gaze darkening into something unreadable.
"She's staying in mine."
Her breath vanished.
The lieutenant bowed.
"Yes, Boss."
And then Adrian walked past her—up the stairs, blood dripping from his shirt, leaving the echo of his power filling the air.
Halfway up, he stopped and looked back.
"Well?"
His eyes dared her to disobey.
"Are you coming, little lamb?"
She swallowed.
And she followed him into the lion's mouth.
---