Possessively Mine

Prologue You can’t escape, Little Cure." His voice was a dark caress, rough with possession, sending a shiver down her spine. He pinned her wrists above her head, his grip unyielding, his body a wall of heat pressed against her. The cool stone at her back did nothing to soothe the fire licking through her veins as his grey eyes bored into hers—merciless, hungry, stripping her bare with just a look. "Do you think you can leave me just like that, sweet?" His breath was hot against her lips, the scent of him wild, intoxicating—filling her lungs. Every inch of him was carved from pure temptation. the hard planes of his chest glistening with sweat, his abs flexing with each controlled breath, the veins in his powerful forearms straining as he held her effortlessly in place. The rough scrape of his stubble grazed her cheek as he leaned in, his mouth hovering just above hers, teasing, taunting. A choked "Why?" escaped her, her voice trembling. "I didn’t do anything. Please… let me go." His low chuckle vibrated against her skin, sending another wave of heat pooling low in her belly. "You still don’t understand." His free hand slid down her side, possessive and slow, igniting a trail of fire even through the fabric of her clothes. His touch was a brand, marking her as his. "YOU..ARE.. MINE!!!." She gasped as his hips pressed forward, the hard evidence of his desire searing against her. Her pulse raced, torn between fear and something far more dangerous. "Sssssshhhhhhh…" His lips brushed her ear, his voice a sinful promise. "You. Are. Mine. Now. And you will be here till rest of your life…whether by your choice…" His teeth grazed her earlobe, making her whimper. "Or by force." ————————————————————————— Author’s Note All rights to this publication are fully reserved by the author. No portion of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, stored in a retrieval system, or distributed in any form or by any means whether electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise, without the express prior written consent of the author or the authorized publisher. This work represents a significant investment of time, research, and creative effort. The author respectfully requests that all readers honor these terms and support the integrity of original literary work by not engaging in unauthorized reproduction or transmission. Thank you for your understanding and compliance. ——————————————————————————— Introduction The meadow was a sea of emerald, sunlight dappling through the trees as a gentle breeze carried the scent of wildflowers. She stood in the center, her heart fluttering like a butterfly. Then, she saw a prince riding toward her atop a horse, his golden hair catching the light like a crown. He dismounted in one fluid motion, his boots crushing the tender grass beneath him as he strode forward. His smile was devastating, his eyes the color of a sky warm and endless. Without a word, he extended his hand. Her breath hitched. She reached for him…….. BANG! The gunshot shattered the dreamlike serenity. She whirled around just as a dark figure emerged from the tree line, flanked by armed men. Before she could scream, an iron grip seized her wrist, yanking her backward against a hard, unyielding chest. The cold muzzle of a pistol pressed against her temple, freezing the blood in her veins. "You are mine," a voice growled in her ear..rough, possessive. Beeeeeeepppppppp!!!!!! The blaring alarm tore through the silence, and Lilia Snow jolted upright in bed, her heart hammering in her chest. Beads of sweat clung to her skin, the last remnants of a nightmare still flickering in her mind. For a moment, she just sat there, breathing, grounding herself before glancing at the clock. "Ugh, no, no, no!" she muttered, leaping from the bed. She was going to be late for class. Lilia scrambled to the bathroom, splashing cold water on her face in an effort to chase away the last traces of sleep. Her reflection stared back—bright brown eyes still half-dazed, hair tousled into a fluffy mess. She wasn’t exactly runway-ready, but she’d make it work. Standing in front of her modest wardrobe, she sighed. No new clothes, nothing fancy. But that was fine. Fashion had never been her priority. She pulled on a pair of well-worn jeans and a soft pink tee—simple, comfy, her go-to look. After drying her hair, she dabbed on a little moisturizer and added a touch of gloss to her lips. Nothing flashy. Just enough to feel put-together. "Ready to rock the world," she whispered to herself with her cute smile. Lilia was the kind of person who left love notes in library books for strangers to find, who remembered everyone’s coffee order, and who stayed up helping classmates even if it meant losing sleep herself. Sweet, thoughtful, and always running a little behind—but with a heart too big for her tiny apartment. She grabbed the stack of assignments she'd spent half the night, preparing. she may be tired, but her work was thorough. Her white coat was draped neatly on the chair; her stethoscope, already packed in her bag. Essentials for another long day at medical college. With one last glance in the mirror and a deep breath, Lilia stepped out—tired, maybe, but full of quiet determination. As she hurried to the door, locked. And runs her life for her class. She rented a small house close to her college old, a bit run-down, and not the safest area, but it was all she could afford. The neighborhood had its own negative histories, but inside, she made it her own. With soft lighting, a few cozy touches, and her favorite books stacked by the bed, it felt like a quiet nest. It wasn’t much, but it gave her a sense of comfort, a slice of home in a city that often felt too big. Medical college in the morning, part-time job in the evening—her days were always full. But she didn’t complain. She was working toward her dream: to become a doctor who could heal not just with medicine, but with warmth and kindness.