Reborn Heiress: Escaping Her Traitorous Fiancé

Fiona POV:

A sharp pain tore through my chest, as if a ghostly claw was ripping at my flesh. My heart pounded violently. I gasped for breath, but the air filling my lungs was thick and damp, carrying the stench of mildew and decay.

I snapped my eyes open.

Dim, hazy light seeped through the grime-coated wooden planks above me. I tried to raise my hand to my throbbing head, but something rough and tight bound my wrists, keeping my hands from moving easily. Coarse rope. It scraped against my skin, leaving a warm trickle that told me I was bleeding.

Beneath me was cold ground-hard-packed earth. A chill shot straight up my spine. I looked down, my gaze sweeping over my body-a simple dress, torn at the hem but otherwise intact. My legs, my arms... all still there.

I was alive!

The realization slammed into me like a sledgehammer.

I had been reborn!

A sharp crack came from outside-the sound of a boot snapping a dry branch. My entire body went rigid. Every muscle tensed, coiled like a spring wound tight by primal, suffocating fear-danger.

My eyes darted across the confined space. A discarded bottle, a pile of moldy burlap sacks, and then, in the corner, a glint of metal. A rusty, bloodstained piece of iron sheeting.

No time to think. I moved like a serpent, slithering across the dirt floor. The muscles in my shoulders screamed in protest, but I ignored them. My fingers stretched, tensed, and brushed against the cold, sharp edge of the iron shard. I hooked it and pulled it close.

"BAM!"

The wooden door burst open with a violent kick.

A massive silhouette stood in the dying light, blocking the exit. The stench hit me first-a sickening mix of rotting flesh and cheap alcohol that made my stomach clench.

The thug stepped inside. His lecherous eyes swept over me, a cruel, yellow-toothed grin spreading across his face. I forced the killing intent from my eyes, replacing it with a mask of pure terror. I made my body tremble, my breaths short and panicked.

"Look what we caught," he growled, his voice low. He strode toward me, each step landing on my heart like a suffocating drumbeat.

He reached for the collar of my dress. In that instant, as his body blocked the light and created a perfect blind spot, my hands, hidden behind my back, moved frantically. The sharp edge of the iron shard bit into the rope. It sliced my fingers, but I felt no pain.

The last strand snapped. My hands were free.

Just as his rough, calloused fingers brushed the skin of my collarbone, the fear in my eyes vanished, replaced by a chilling, absolute coldness.

I kicked out violently, my feet slamming into his soft belly. The force sent me sliding backward across the dirt, creating precious feet of distance.

"Bitch!" he roared, a guttural, inhuman sound of pure rage, and lunged, his massive hands reaching for me, trying to pin me down.

I rolled sideways, his body crashing down where I had just been. In the same fluid motion, I swung the rusty iron shard, burying it deep into the thick flesh of his thigh.

I had aimed for his femoral artery.

Warm blood splattered across my cheek. "Ahhh! My leg..." he screamed, a piercing shriek of agony, and clutched his thigh. His assault faltered.

I gave him no time to recover. I yanked the heavy silver hairpin from the messy bun at the back of my head. With the precision honed from a past life's desperate struggle to survive, I lunged forward and drove the tip straight into his neck.

His eyes widened in shock. A gurgling sound came from his throat as he clawed at the hairpin. Then, his massive body crashed to the ground with a dull, heavy thud.

I stood over him, my chest heaving. I pulled out the hairpin, wiped the blood on his filthy shirt, and tucked it back into my bun.

My hands moved quickly, patting down his pockets. A folding knife. Car keys. My chances of survival had increased.

A chorus of howls came from the woods, closer now. His accomplices. I had to leave. Now.

I ran to the back of the shack, to a small, decrepit window. I shoved it open, ignoring the splintering wood that snagged my dress, and vaulted out.

My feet landed in a puddle of mud and water. The cold seeped through my thin shoes, but I didn't stop. I began to run desperately, plunging into the deep, vast darkness of the redwood forest.

Thick fog rolled in, wrapping around the ancient trees, swallowing the path ahead. Branches whipped against my face and arms, tearing at my skin, but I just kept running on instinct.

The howls grew louder, closer. They were chasing me. Fear and adrenaline mixed into a poisonous cocktail in my veins, driving my legs faster, faster.

I didn't see the gnarled tree root snaking across the forest floor.

My ankle twisted sharply. A cry of pain tore from my throat as I lost my balance and pitched forward into the darkness.

I braced for the impact of hard earth and stone.

Instead, I collided with something solid and warm. A wall of muscle.

An arm locked around my waist like an iron band, steadying me with startling ease. An aura of immense power, of an apex predator, washed over me, stealing my breath.

I tilted my head back, my heart lurching in my chest. My terrified gaze met a pair of deep-set, smiling peach-blossom eyes.

The man wore a strange silver fox mask that covered half his face, glinting coldly in the fragments of moonlight piercing the canopy.

My body went rigid in his embrace. The scent of him-cold cedar and something wild and dangerous-flooded my senses. My hand instinctively tightened around the handle of the folding knife hidden in my sleeve.