Viktor
-Don’t run from me. Run *to* me.
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Snow fell like quiet confessions that night… soft, endless, covering everything in a fragile kind of peace.
The forest was still.
Too still.
Viktor Volkov stood in the shadows, unmoving, a ghost wrapped in black. Beside him, Kazimir’s massive frame was tense, ears twitching, low breath curling into the cold air.
Then—
A sound.
Distant. Uneven.
Running.
Kazimir’s head snapped toward it, a low growl rumbling deep in his chest.
Viktor didn’t move immediately. His grey eyes narrowed slightly, scanning through the trees.
The uneven rhythm of her breathing.
The way her eyes darted—not calculating… just terrified. Not trained. Not a spy. Just… human. Still, his voice came out low, sharp.
…Покажи.(Show me.) Kazimir moved first, silent despite his size, slipping through the trees like a living weapon. Viktor followed, slower, controlled… every step placed with intention. And then he saw her. . A small figure stumbling through the snow, breath broken, footsteps uneven. Her clothes were torn, her skin bruised, and fear clung to her like frost. Behind her—faint voices. Men. Hunting. Viktor’s gaze sharpened instantly. A setup? Kazimir let out a low warning growl, stepping slightly in front of Viktor, ready. froze when she saw them. A towering man dressed in black… face half-shadowed, eyes cold enough to freeze the air itself. And beside him—a beast of a dog, watching her like prey. For a second… no one moved. The world held its breath. Viktor studied her. The trembling in her hands.
The uneven rhythm of her breathing.
The way her eyes darted—not calculating… just terrified. Not trained. Not a spy. Just… human. Still, his voice came out low, sharp.
…Who sent you?