****_Kyla's POV****
As I stood frozen, my eyes locked onto the stranger's, his wicked grin seemed to pierce through my very soul. “Who are you?” I demanded, trying to keep my voice steady despite the tremors that threatened to consume me.
The man's smile only grew wider, his eyes glinting with a cunning light that sent shivers down my spine. “You don't need to know my name, lady,” he said, his voice low and husky, dripping with an unsettling intimacy. “All you need to know is that you have to follow me now.”
My heart racing, I took a step back, my eyes darting wildly around the chaotic palace. Where was Gibson? What had happened? The last time I'd been taken, I'd been trapped for what felt like an eternity, unable to escape or even recall my name. The memory of that helpless, desperate feeling lingered, making my skin crawl. Yeah., I know I faked my memory loss.
As the stranger took another step closer, his movements slow and deliberate, I felt a cold sweat break out on my forehead. I would rather not be taken again, didn't want to be trapped in some dark, forsaken place with no escape. I didn't want to lose myself again.
“No,” I whispered, my voice barely audible over the pounding of my heart. “I won't go with you.”
The stranger's grin never wavered. “Oh, but you will, lady,” he said, his eyes glinting with a sinister light. “You have no choice.”
With that, he reached out and grasped my arm, his grip like a vice. I tried to struggle, but he was too strong, pulling me toward him with an inexorable force.
He scooped me up like a feather, tossing me over his shoulder as if I were a rag doll. I let out a blood-curdling scream, “AHHHHH! HELP!” But my cries for rescue were drowned out by the chaos erupting around us. People were running wildly, shouting, and clashing with one another. It was like the apocalypse had descended upon the palace.
In a moment of sheer desperation, I spat squarely in my captor's eye. “Ptui!” The man let out a disgusted yelp, “AGGGGHHH! YOU LITTLE…!” He swiftly lifted me down from his shoulder and delivered a stinging slap across my cheek. My face felt like it was on fire, and I could feel the heat radiating from my skin.
I couldn't help but think, “Seriously? Again? Why does every person I meet feel the need to slap me? Do I have a 'Slap Me' sign on my forehead ?!” I was fuming, and my anger got the better of me.
With fierce determination, I punched the man in the face and grabbed his head, trying to wrestle him to the ground. But let's be real, I'm no match for this towering giant. I mean, I'm pretty sure he could crush me with a single hand tied behind his back.
As we “fought,” I couldn't help but think, “This is ridiculous. I'm a featherweight boxer trying to take down a sumo wrestler.” But I refused to give up. I kicked, scratched, and bit (okay, maybe not that last one, but I was tempted!).
Just when I thought I was getting the upper hand (HA!), the man landed a solid punch to my stomach, leaving me gasping for air. I stumbled backward, clutching my belly, and that's when I realized… I'm in big trouble.
As the sword-wielding man, Lucas, loomed over me, his face twisted in a scowl, I resigned myself to my fate. I closed my eyes, waiting for the inevitable, and thought to myself, “Well, this is it. I'm a goner. No heroic rescue, no last-minute reprieve. Just me, the cold hard ground, and the business end of a sword. I wonder if anyone will even notice I'm missing. Will they send out a search party? Or will I just be another forgotten soul, lost in the annals of time?”
But then, a voice pierced the air, “LUCAS!” It was a loud, authoritative voice, and it made me open my eyes to see who was yelling. I mean, maybe someone had finally come to save me? (A girl can dream, right?) Perhaps it was a brave knight or a daring hero, who came to rescue me from the clutches of evil. Or perhaps it was just someone who wanted to borrow a cup of sugar. (I was willing to consider any possibility at this point.)
As I cracked open my eyelids, I was surprised to find that I wasn't dead. Yet. Lucas was still standing over me, but he hadn't delivered the final blow. Instead, he looked as if he'd been interrupted mid-swing, his sword hovering in midair like a paused pendulum.
Just then, another man rushed onto the scene, grabbing Lucas's arm and spinning him around. “You can't harm her, Lucas!” he exclaimed. “She's needed, just like the master said!” The man's voice was firm and commanding, and Lucas seemed to shrink under his gaze.
Lucas looked like he was about to argue, but the other man was having none of it. He dragged me to my feet, and I stumbled along beside him, still trying to process what was happening. My mind was a jumble of questions. Who was this master person? What did they want with me? And why did I seem to be stuck in some kind of bizarre, sword-filled soap opera?
As we stumbled away from the scene, I couldn't help but think, “Wait, what? I'm needed? By whom? And for what? Is this some kind of bizarre rescue mission? Or am I just being dragged from one bad situation to another?” I glanced around, trying to take in my surroundings, but everything seemed to be a blur.
I turned to my rescuer (or captor? Not only that, but I wasn't sure which), and he gave me a reassuring smile. “Don't worry, you're safe now,” he said.
I raised an eyebrow. “Safe?” I repeated. “You call this safe? I've been kidnapped, slapped, and nearly sworded. Safe is not exactly the word that comes to mind…" I trailed off, still trying to wrap my head around the events of the past few minutes.
The man chuckled. “Well, maybe 'safe' is a relative term,” he said. "But you're with me now, and I promise you'll be protected for now”.
I looked at him skeptically. “And who exactly are you?” I asked. What does he mean by “for now.”