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I just have to ignore how my body responds every time Erik enters the room. How his presence makes my skin prickle with awareness. He's the enemy. I can't forget that, no matter how much heat lingers in my memories.

Time to focus on what matters: getting out of here.

The hot water cascades over my shoulders as I close my eyes, letting it wash away days of confinement. My muscles ache for movement, for anything beyond pacing this small room. The thought of exploring the compound is exciting.

As I run the soap over my body, my fingers brush against the marks Erik left on my hips, and heat pools low at the memory of his rough hands gripping me, pinning me against that bathroom door. The ghost of his touch makes me shiver despite the steam filling the shower.

“Focus,” I mutter, turning the water temperature down. I need a clear head. This is my chance to map exits, study guard rotations, and identify any weaknesses in their security.

I step out and wrap a towel around myself, wiping condensation from the mirror. The reflection shows fading bruises on my neck where Erik's mouth claimed me. My thighs clench as I remember his tongue between them, his growled demands as he made me come again and again.

Dammit. I grab fresh clothes from the dresser they provided—fitted black pants and a long-sleeved shirt. As I dress, all I can think about is how Erik's eyes darkened when he saw me in those yoga pants. How his control finally snapped.

I drag a brush through my wet hair, forcing myself to concentrate on escape plans instead of the way his stubble scraped my inner thighs. The way his fingers dug into my flesh as he thrust into me. The pure animal need in his eyes when he finally let go.

“He's the enemy,” I remind myself firmly. My body doesn't seem to care about that distinction. It just remembers the pleasure and wants more of it.

I check my reflection one final time, straightening my shoulders. Time to focus on what matters—getting out of here. No matter how good Erik made me feel, freedom has to come first.

A sharp knock announces Viktor's arrival. Unlike Erik's looming presence, Viktor's weathered face holds a hint of warmth.

“Ready for the grand tour?” His lips quirk into a half-smile.

“Anything's better than staring at these walls or a stone-faced soldier.” I step into the hallway, noting the security cameras at each corner.

“Erik can be... intense.” Viktor leads me down a corridor lined with dark wood panels. “But he keeps everyone safe.”

I snort. “Is that what you call this?”

“This way to the kitchen.” He ignores my comment, but his eyes crinkle with understanding. “Full access whenever you're hungry. Living room's through there—TV, books, whatever you need.”

The kitchen gleams with stainless steel appliances and granite countertops. A wall of windows reveals a dense forest that stretches to the horizon.

“Don't get ideas.” Viktor's voice turns firm. “We're miles from civilization. No roads, no neighbors. Even if you made it past security, the wilderness would kill you before help arrived.”

“Noted.” I trail my fingers along the cool counter.

The library surprises me—floor-to-ceiling shelves packed with everything from classics to technical manuals. “At least I won't die of boredom.”

“Gym's last stop.” Viktor pushes open double doors to reveal a fully equipped facility. “Treadmill, weights, whatever you need to stay active.”

“No chance of fresh air?”

He shakes his head. “Indoor track's the best I can offer. Sorry, but those are the rules.”

I appreciate his honesty, which contrasts with Erik's brooding intensity. Viktor treats me like a person, not a possession to control.

“Thanks for the tour.” I mean it, despite everything. “You're easier to deal with than your colleague.”

“Just doing my job.” But his smile reaches his eyes this time. “Remember the boundaries, and we'll get along fine.”

“Thank you, Viktor. Really.” I place my hand on his arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. After days of Erik's cold demeanor, Viktor's kindness feels like a lifeline.

A growl rips through the air—deep, feral, dangerous. Erik stands in the doorway, his massive frame vibrating with barely contained violence. His dark eyes lock onto where my hand touches Viktor's arm, and the murderous intent rolling off him makes my breath catch.

Viktor steps back, hands raised. “I'll leave you to settle in.” His voice stays steady, but he moves with deliberate care, like someone backing away from an angry bear.

I turn away from Erik's burning stare and head for the library. Before I take three steps, his hand clamps around my upper arm. The heat of his grip brands my skin through the thin fabric of my shirt.