Blue's POV

Max left after he had cleaned my wounds. He told me to sleep. But I could not. Every night, I was haunted by the thought of not being able to leave this family.

Max once told me that there was a cause behind Father's vehement dislike of me.

"Can't you see that you don't look like him?"

"You mean he beats me up just because I don't look like him?"

"Come on, Blue. It's clear that... Don't mind, please. It's clear that you're not his."

"You mean, Mother cheated on him and I'm the result?" I asked.

"I guess so. I mean, look at Draven and me. We have gray eyes and dirty blond hair. But you don't. You have brunette hair and blue eyes. Even Mother doesn't have them."

He had a valid point there. My appearance was diametrically opposed to that of my father. I had a few things in common with Mother, but I had nothing in common with Father. Father, Draven, and Maxen all had blond hair and gray eyes. Mother had dark brown eyes and red hair. But I was unique.

My facial structure was also different. My nose was similar to Mother's, but in other ways, I had a completely different structure. This time, I truly wondered if I was not my father's. Maybe this was why he despised me so much.

I sat next to the window, leaning against the frame, attempting to fill my mind with cold air to expel all of my misery. Things were becoming more complicated. I overheard Draven and Father discussing whoring, or something similar two days ago.

I was horrified, believing he was talking about turning me into a whore to get money. Since that day, I had been carrying a knife with me. So in case Draven or Father tried to sell me to someone, I would be able to kill myself. I would rather die than become someone's plaything.

The moon was obscured by dense clouds tonight. The night seemed to be pleading with me to go out onto the roof and sit in the rain. Whenever it rained, I would go up to the roof and sit there for as long as I could without being seen.  No one was there to see anyway. But I still refused to cry any other time if it was not raining. Perhaps, to make myself stronger, I chose this way.

Draven's usual yelling reached my ears. He was even angrier than usual tonight. I did not care to go and see why he was behaving like that. In these situations, I stayed as far away from Father and Draven as possible. If I came into their line of sight, they would direct their rage at me.

I decided to get some sleep. At least, if I slept, I would not have to deal with the pain in my abdomen.

But my peace was not something my family would want. Suddenly the door of my room burst open, and before I knew what was going on, Draven had grabbed me by the hair.

"She took the money. Ask her," he hissed.

I saw Father there as I writhed in agony, trying to break free from his clutches. Both of them together... I was so dead tonight. I wanted to tell Max that he should at the very least bury me.

"Have you taken the money, Blue?" Father asked coldly. His voice was not loud and I feared this the most. When he was loud, he would kick me or strike me with a belt. But when his voice was cold, he was the most ruthless. The last time he said something like this to me, he shoved my hand into the fireplace and held it there despite my wailing and screams. Fortunately, an elderly neighbor stopped by to see what was wrong. Or I would surely lose my hand that day.

"What money?" I asked. I had no idea what they were talking about. I had never taken their money, not even for once, not when I needed to buy tampons in an emergency, not when I needed to take costly medicines for my throat pain.

"I've kept five hundred dollars in the second drawer of my table," Father said. "Did you take it?"

"No."

A punch landed on my throat. It was excruciatingly painful. I felt as if the bone there had broken as a result of the sudden force. I clenched my teeth, making a futile attempt to breathe.

"Liar!" Draven hissed angrily. I was certain now that Draven was the one who had taken the money.

"I'm... not... lying," I managed to stammer, in the throes of agony. I coughed and felt my chest burning with pain.

"She is lying, Father! That whore!" Draven snarled.

"You piece of pure nonsense, I'm not lying!" I shouted, not caring about the pain in my throat.

"How dare you talk back, you bitch!" Draven said and pulled my hair so hard that I felt my whole skull getting out of my head.

"Slow down, Draven," Father said slowly. "She will learn her lesson soon. I got our first customer."

I gasped, realizing what he was talking about. Even though I knew exactly what he was talking about, I did not want to believe it. He could not truly do it, could he? He was my father. No matter what, he could not do it, right?

"How much does he want to  pay?" Draven asked, not loosening his grasp on my hair.

"100 dollars per two hours," Father replied.

"It's not much. Tell him 150," Draven said as if he was talking about renting a piece of unused furniture.

"It's just the beginning. We'll grow the business more," Father said. "I think she is ready now."

"Are you talking about..."

"Yes, sweet sister. We're discussing how we can use you as a business tool. What's that body of yours for then?" Draven said, smiling like a maniac.

My heart sank with fear at the prospect of losing my sole valuable possession.

"No..."

"Oh, yes," Father said. "If you can't come to use, there's no need for you."

"Then I'll leave. I won't ever come back, I swear," I said quickly, hoping he would agree.

"Don't even think about it. Why do you think I kept you alive all those years?" Father said.

"To use my body for money?" I yelled. "I would rather die than be anyone's sex toy."

"Don't raise your voice, you little slut!" Draven hissed and yanked my hair even tighter.

"Leave me alone, you evil! I have never done anything wrong. Then why are you doing this to me?" I said desperately. This time, I could not even stop the tears.

"Shhh..." Draven jeered into my ear. "You will like it, sister."

All I wanted to do was hit him so hard he would never forget what he had done to me. Maybe my hand was a little faster than my intellect. I did not even know what I had done until Draven groaned in pain.

"How dare you..."

Draven almost knocked my head against the corner of the bed. To my greatest fortune, I heard Mother's voice from downstairs.

"Raphael! Someone wants to meet you."

Mother's voice was unbelievably gentle. I was certain it was someone who we did not know or someone important.

"Draven, come down. I don't want whoever it is to hear her stupid screams," Father said, glancing disgustedly at me as if I was rotten garbage.

Draven sneered one more time before releasing my hair and exiting the room, slamming the door loudly behind them.

I sobbed as I sat on the bed, my knees pressed against my chest. I did not want to cry, but the tears did not stop. The voices downstairs were very low. I had no idea who had shown up or what they were discussing. Not many people would come to our house. If anyone did, it would be the drug-selling hefty obese man with thick mustaches.

After what seemed like an hour, I heard footsteps upstairs. I laid down and pretended to sleep so I would not have to face whatever they had planned for me this time.

"Blue, come downstairs."

It was Mother. Her voice was cheerful, which was unusual to hear. She was clearly ecstatic about something.

"Why?" I asked, suspiciously.

"Just come on," she said and pulled me with her roughly. Her grip was not as tight as Father's or Draven's, which I was grateful about.

"What is it?" I asked again.

But she ignored me, yet the smile on her face remained. She brought me downstairs into the living room. I glanced at the place and still could not fully understand why she had brought me here.

There were not just them there; there was another man, or I would rather say a sin

Blue's POV

He was... I had never seen anyone like him. He was leaning against the wall, staring into my eyes in a way no one else had ever done.

He was tall, very tall, even taller than Draven, who stood six feet three inches. He was muscular, his long white sleeves cinched around his biceps, and the first two buttons on his chest were undone, displaying a wicked sight to anyone's eyes. His long face remained expressionless, with no sign of warmth, only coldness.

He sported dark black hair that matched his eyes. His beardless, razor-sharp jaw appeared to cut through my skin.

His eyes traveled up and down my body. I became self-conscious all of a sudden. I was not in a good condition for sure. My body was covered in scars, almost all of which ached. Thanks to Draven, my hair was as unkempt as if I had just emerged from a tomb and had not washed my hair in weeks.

"That's my daughter," Father said, sitting on the couch, his face brighter than usual.

"She has a nice physique. She may be petite, but I'm sure you'll find good things inside," Mother said eagerly and my whole existence dropped.

The ground beneath my feet was swaying. Were they renting me out to him as a plaything? My eyes welled up with tears, but the strongest thing I felt was anger.

"What are you saying?" I asked Mother sharply.

She pinched my skin and told me to shut up with her eyes. I could not help but stare at her, unable to say anything else.

"How long do you want her for?" Draven asked.

"I don't want to rent her. I want to buy her... forever," he spoke for the first time and I felt my whole world freezing around me.

"She is not for sale. She is for rent," Draven said.

"I'll give you as much money as you want. And as I said, I want to buy her," he said sharply, his gaze sweeping me from head to toe.

Draven looked at Father who seemed to be thinking, thinking about selling his daughter.

"I think we should sell her, Raphael. She is useless anyway," Mother said eagerly.

I could not bear looking at any of them any longer. My mind was foggy as each of my senses went numb one by one. My head felt heavy, and I felt compelled to lie down, fearing that I would trip and fall at any moment.

"How much will you give us?" Father asked.

"Let me tell you something before. She is not touched at all. We're giving you a full untouched virgin. The price should be high," Draven said.

"Ten million," he said, his voice as cold as ever.

Draven gasped and Mother's grip on my hand tightened in excitement. "She is yours to use, beat, or whatever you want to do with her," Father said, even before a second could pass.

"I'll go to the police and tell them what you're doing," I shouted at them.

"You fucking whore!" Draven snarled and was about to smack me when his hand was instantly bent behind him with enormous power, and he winced in pain.

"She is mine now. Don't you dare touch her or raise your voice at her," the stranger said, his voice threatening, but noticeably calm. "You don't have any right over her anymore. She is mine, only mine."

When he said I was his, he looked me in the eyes as if he was trying to imprint it in my mind so I would never forget it. He let go of Draven, who took a quick step away, too stunned to do or say anything.

"Go to your room and only bring what you absolutely need. Take no clothes and don't stay too long. We'll be leaving in ten minutes," he spoke directly to me, causing my heart to skip a beat in terror and a strange emotion.

I nodded and went to my room. I knew he was just a stranger who wanted nothing more than sexual pleasure from me. Even if I stayed with my family, they would rent me out to other men so they could enjoy my body. I decided to go with him and then whenever I would get the chance, I would run away. I would never let anyone force me to do something. I had had enough of listening to others.

I went into my room, only to find it unusually quiet and dark. Everything felt empty. Then I realized that the main thing that felt empty was my heart.

Tears streamed down my cheeks, and I took deep breaths to keep myself from collapsing right here. Even Max was not coming to meet me for one last time. He was not like this at all. But then where was he?

I looked around the room and realized that I had nothing but my wounded heart and thoughts to take with me. I sighed and looked out the window one last time. I was never going to come back here, my home, a miserable one, but still, it was my home.

I went into the restroom to wash my face. My wrists and neck were covered in marks, making me appear pitiful. I did not have any kind of cosmetic to use to hide my wounds either. They were always on display, like a piece of heinous art.

I gathered myself together and went downstairs quickly, not wanting to waste any more time in this house. The guy looked at me narrowly, noticing that I had not taken anything with me.

"Aren't you going to take anything with you?" It was not him who asked this. It was Mother, showing fake care for the last minute I was here.

"As if I have anything," I muttered.

"She has taken money for sure," Draven snarled.

"I haven't, you jerk. You are the one who has been stealing all of the money. I earn my own money, you dumb-headed asshole. You just got ten million selling me. How much more do you want?" I shouted and approached the front door before anyone could tell me anything else.

He came up behind me and unlocked the door for me, his gaze never leaving mine. The cold air landed on my face with drops of rainwater. I flinched at the sudden chilly sensation.

"It will be ten minutes of walk into the forest," he said.

I did not look at him, but kept my gaze forward, deciding which way to run. I felt tiny next to him, standing five feet four inches tall. I had a feeling that no matter how hard I tried, I would never be able to get away from him. And the way he twisted Draven's arm behind his back made me wonder what would happen if he did the same thing to me.

"Look at me, Blue," he said, his voice cold but gentle. Hearing my name in his voice was intoxicating for some reason I could not explain.

His voice seemed to compel me to look him in the eyes. They were extremely dark as if sinfully absorbing all the light in the world. It was peculiar. His eyes were pure black, not dark brown. It was, however, impossible for the eyes to be completely black.

"It's pointless to try to run. It will only take me a few minutes to find you. And now that I've laid eyes on you, you'll never be able to get away from me," he said, sending shivers up my spine like the feel of cold water on the skin in the winter.

"And you're safe with me. Whatever your family has done to you, I will never do the same to you. No one will ever hurt you in the place you're going now."

"I'm not safe with you either," I said, mustering all my courage.

"Oh, yes, you are. You'll be the safest and happiest with me," he said, slightly smiling, but his smile did not reach his eyes as his gaze traveled to the wounds on my wrists.

"You just bought me," I wanted to shout, but I could not. All that came out was a low murmur.

"I've bought you to make you mine," he said.

"Make me your slave?" I asked.

"No."

"You're lying. You all are lying. Why else would you buy me if I'm not going to be your slave? You're going to turn me into your toy. You will hurt me and enjoy my body without my consent. You're the first customer they were talking about, right? You want me to use me, you want to strike me when you're angry. You want to do unimaginable things to me and then kill me eventually. That's why you want me, don't you?" I shouted, all my rage pouring out like it had been released after a long time.

"No, Blue," he responded calmly. "I want you as my bride."

Blue's POV

"Bride?" I mumbled, my breath catching in my throat and causing intense pain. "Stop playing with me!"

"You think I'm playing?" he asked.

"You are. I don't trust you."

"I can't make you trust me right away. But you will very soon," he said, his voice calm but confident.

"I don't want to come with you," I said, looking pleadingly at him.

"Don't make me force you, Blue," he sighed.

I looked around at the dark surroundings, the sound of the wind mingling with the hammering of my heart and his hushed breathing. I had no idea what to do or whom to put my trust in. But there was something about him that made me think I could try to trust him.

"Just give me a chance. You won't regret trusting me," he said gently.

I locked my gaze on him, intently studying him. I nodded after a while. Even I was puzzled as to why I had been accepted so quickly.

"Let's go then," he said and offered me his hand. I studied his hand for a moment before slipping my small hand into his large, firm one. His hand was warm like a candle lit from a distance. It took a few moments for my skin to acclimatize to this new sensation.

"Where are you taking me?" I asked.

"To my place."

"Your place? Don't mind my harsh talking, but anyway, you have a lot of money that you... ok, so where do you live? You said we have to walk ten minutes inside the forest. But I mean, as you have a lot of money, you can live in a big town in a very comfortable mansion or something like that. You don't have to live in a forest cabin, I guess. Is it a personal preference or something?"

"Who said I live in a forest cabin?" he asked

in a way as if he was amused by my confused state.

"You live in a forest. So that must be..."

"I don't live in a forest, sweet Blue. You'll see in a while. My place is enough for us," he said smiling.

"Then where?"

"You'll see. Come on now."

He suddenly took off the long coat he was wearing. It was black and appeared to be made of high-quality fabric. When I saw him before, he was not wearing that coat. Perhaps he had taken that off when he came here, and then he put it on again.

Before I knew what was going on, he had wrapped the coat around me. As I was wearing a short-sleeved long shirt with my shorts, his knuckles brushed over the exposed skin of my upper arm. Goosebumps appeared all over my body when my skin came into contact with his.

"What... what are you..."

"It's raining. You'll catch a cold," he said normally as if it was nothing but common sense. Perhaps it was, but this act of common sense stood out to me. No one had ever given a damn if I was dying, let alone a simple cold.

"Don't you need it?" I asked.

"No. I don't catch a cold," he replied.

"Thank you," I mumbled.

"Don't thank me for this little thing, my bride.

Or you'll get sick thanking me," he said, smiling at me. His smile was not overly broad, but rather a small curl of his brownish pink lips, frigid but full of unspoken feelings.

He led me deep into the forest, his coat, keeping raindrops off my skin. However, my face and hair were wet. He had my hand in his, and for some reason, it gave me butterflies in my stomach.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?" he asked.

"Marrying me? Why do you want to marry me?" I asked.

To my surprise, he chuckled. "Because I want

to."

"But why? You're good-looking. You can have any girl. I don't think a girl with a bruised body will be a good match for you," I muttered.

"Hey, look at me," he said, and I obliged.

"Since the moment I laid my eyes on you, I wanted you."

"When did you see me first?" I asked in a shaky tone.

"A long time ago."

"When?"

He did not answer me, but kept walking, not so fast as if he was walking like that for me. It felt a strange walking hand in hand with a stranger who turned out to be far too handsome to handle.

The scent of fresh raindrops on the ground filled my nostrils. But it was not the smell that made me dizzy. A hallucinogenic deep masculine smell had been emitting from him, making me want to sniff him, pressing my nose on his skin.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"Call me Demetrius," he replied.

It seemed like an ancient name, but very handsome. I liked it but also wondered what it would feel like to say his name. Would it vibrate in my mouth? Would I be able to say it properly or mess up in the middle because of overthinking?

I wanted to ask him a lot of things, but I was not sure if I should. What if he got annoyed

and decided to punish me or something like that? I did not want to be struck again.

"Blue, you can ask me anything you want. You don't have to be afraid of me. I'm your soon-to-be husband. There's no need to fear me. At least, not you," he said as if he could read my mind. I was curious as to what he meant by at least not you.' Did others fear him a lot? It was true that he appeared cold as if staring at him for an extended period would cause one to freeze to death. But, based on how he spoke to me, his appearance appeared to be the polar opposite of his words.

"Ask me," he urged gently again.

"Do you live alone?"

"No. My family lives with me and there are servants as well."

I could not tell if what he was saying was true. That many people would necessitate a large space. Where exactly did he live?

"Here," he said.

I noticed that we had arrived in what appeared to be a very dark place, full of trees and shadows and the sound of small animals running over small branches, making snapping noises.

"You live here?" I asked.

"You'll see, my bride," he said with a smile.

I blushed suddenly at his word. He was being way too gentle with me and even calling me his bride even though we met a few minutes ago.

No, I met him a few minutes ago. But he did not. He said he had seen me a long time ago.

Was he stalking me? But how was that possible? He was probably twenty-four or twenty-five, not more than that.

"Um... can I ask you something?" I hesitated.

"Yes, my bride."

I gasped once more at this word but quickly straightened myself out before making a fool of myself. "How old are you?"

"What do you think?"

"I don't know... perhaps twenty-five..."

"Close. I'm twenty-four," he replied.

So he was seven years older than me. Perhaps a little less than seven years, as I was just two days away from turning eighteen. The age difference was neither too great nor too little.

"Is it unsettling?"

"What?"

"The age gap?"

"No. 1.... I just..."

"It's okay. I'm not too old I guess," he remarked, and I couldn't help but smile. His lips curved into a smile as well. It was perfect; the way his lips curved, his dimple appeared on his left cheek, and his eyes softened.

Everything seemed to be making me feel different.

There was a Coast Douglas-fir in front of us. Both in width and height, the tree was enormous.

"Coast Douglas-fir," I murmured.

"Yes. How do you know it?" he asked. I was surprised. I said it so quietly, almost not making a sound. But he still heard me. How?

"I read about it. It is also known as Douglas spruce, Oregon pine, and Pacific Douglas-fir.

It is a species of evergreen conifer native to western North America, ranging from west central British Columbia in Canada to central California in the United States. Its range in Oregon and Washington extends from the Cascades crest west to the Pacific Coast Ranges and the Pacific Ocean. It can be found in the Klamath and California Coast Ranges as far south as the Santa Lucia Mountains, with a small stand in the Purisima Hills, Santa Barbara County. It can be found as far south as Yosemite in the Sierra Nevada. It ranges in elevation from near sea level along the coast to 1,800 meters in the California Mountains.

O "And...," I explained. "Oh, I'm sorry. I actually could not... stop myself. I have this bad habit of talking about something I know. I'm sorry."