Chapter 125 Anya
I floated in red water. I felt myself sinking, drifting away.
Finally, I thought. Finally it ends.
Then suddenly, I felt strong hands grab and pull me out of the water.
No, I screamed in my head. Let me go. Let me die.
But my mouth would not open. My body would not respond.
I was lifted from the water. Cold air hit my skin.
"No!" a voice roared. "No, no, no!"
Alexei.
I recognized his voice.
"How did this happen?!" He demanded. "How did she get a knife?"
"We... we searched the room, sir," a guard stammered. "There was nothing..."
"Obviously there was something!" Volkov shouted. "She is bleeding out! Get the doctor! Now!"
"Sir, she is not breathing..."
"I do not care! Get the doctor or you die! All of you die!"
I felt myself being carried and laid down on something soft.
Hands pressed against my wrist. Against the wound.
"Stop the bleeding!" Volkov ordered. "Do something!"
"Sir, I need supplies. I need..."
"Then get them!" Volkov screamed.
I wanted to tell them to stop. To let me go. To let me die in peace.
But I could not speak. I could not move. I could not even open my eyes.
I was trapped inside my dying body.
"Anya," Volkov's voice said near my ear. "Do not do this. Do not leave me. Not like this."
His voice was different now. Almost... broken.
"I will kill them," he said. "All of them. For not watching you. For letting this happen. But first you have to live. You have to stay with me."
"Her pulse is weak," a new voice said. The doctor. "Very weak. She has lost a lot of blood."
"Then give her more!" Volkov demanded.
"It is not that simple," the doctor said. "I need to stop the bleeding first and stabilize her. Then we can talk about transfusions."
"Just save her," Volkov said. His voice
cracked. "Whatever it takes. Save her."
"I am trying," the doctor said.
Time became meaningless.
I floated in and out. Sometimes hearing voices. Sometimes hearing nothing.
"Her pressure is dropping," the doctor said at one point. "We are losing her."
"No," Volkov said. "No. Do something!"
"I am doing everything I can!"
More pressure hit my wrist. The pain was sharp but distant. Like it was happening to someone else.
"Anya," Volkov's voice said. "Listen to me. You are not allowed to die. Do you hear me? I own you. You are mine. And I decide when you die."
His words should have made me angry. But I felt nothing. Just emptiness.
"She is stabilizing," the doctor said finally. "The bleeding has stopped. But she needs a hospital. Proper equipment and blood transfusions."
"No hospitals," Volkov said immediately.
"Sir, without proper care..."
"I said no hospitals!" Volkov shouted.
"Bring the equipment here. Bring the blood. Bring whatever you need. But she stays here where I can protect her."
"She will need constant supervision," he said. "And when she wakes up... if she wakes up... she will need psychiatric help."
"I will watch her," Volkov said.
"That might not be healthy..."
"I do not care about healthy," Volkov interrupted. "I care about alive. Keep her alive. That is all I am asking."
"I will do my best," the doctor said. "But the next twenty-four hours are critical. If she makes it through that, she has a chance."
"She will make it," Volkov said. "She has to."
They left. Or so I thought.
But I could feel a presence. Someone sitting beside me. Watching.
Volkov.
"I know you can hear me," he said. "So hear this, Anya. You do not get to escape me this easily. Death is too kind. You are going to live. And you are going to be mine. For as long as I say."
His hand touched my face. Almost tender.
"I should be angry," he said. "I should punish you for this. But I am not. Because I understand. You love Nikolai so much that you would rather die than live without him."
He paused.
"But he is dead now," he said. "He is gone. Forever. And you need to accept that."
No, I wanted to scream. No, it is not true. But I could not scream. I could not cry.
"When you wake up," Volkov continued, "things will be different. I will not lock you in a cage. I will not threaten you. I will give you everything. Freedom and comfort. Anything you want. Except the one thing you cannot have. You cannot leave me. And you cannot die. Those are the only rules."
His hand moved to my wrist. To where I had cut myself.
"This," he said, "never happens again. You will never be alone long enough to try this again."
He was quiet for a moment.
"I know you hate me," he said. "I know you wish I was dead instead of Nikolai. But hate me all you want. As long as you are here with me. I can live with your hatred."
I heard him stand and walk to the door.
Then he was gone.
And I was alone in the darkness.
Days passed. Or maybe hours. I could not tell.
Sometimes I heard voices. The doctor checking me. Nurses changing bandages. Volkov sitting beside me, talking.
"The doctor says you are getting stronger," he said one day. "Your body is healing. Soon you will wake up. And when you do, we will start over. You will see. It will be better."
No, I thought. It will never be better.
"I have been thinking," Volkov continued, "about what you said. About how Nikolai locked you up. How he chose his empire over you. How he hurt you."
He paused.
"I will not make those mistakes," he said. "I will choose you. Over everything. You will be my empire. My only priority. And I will never lock you away. You will have freedom. As long as you stay with me."
His words were pretty. Kind even. But they were lies. All lies. Because a cage was still a cage, even if it had no bars.
And Volkov was still my captor, even if he called it love.
"Wake up, Anya," he said. "Please. I need to see your eyes again. Hear your voice. Even if you are screaming at me. Even if you hate me. Just wake up."
But I did not want to wake up.
It was easier to stay in the darkness.
"The doctor says you might be able to hear me," Volkov said another day. "He says sometimes people in comas are aware. They just cannot respond."
He moved closer. I felt his breath on my face.
"If you can hear me," he said, "I want you to know something. What you did scared me. More than anything ever has. Because for a moment, I thought I lost you. And I realized something."
He was quiet for a long moment.
"I love you," he said. "I know that sounds insane. But I have loved you since the moment I saw you. And I will love you until the day I die. Whether you love me back or not."
I almost laughed. This was not love. This was obsession at its peak.
His hand touched mine.
"So wake up," he said. "Wake up and fight me. Hate me. Try to kill me if you want. But do not leave me alone. I cannot bear it."
And for the first time, I felt something.
Pity.
Time passed. The darkness remained.
But slowly, something changed.
I began to see light.
It was faint at first. Then it became brighter.
Sound became clearer. Touch became sharper.
I was waking up.
I was waking up!!!
And I felt my fingers twitch