I wake to darkness, but not the comforting darkness of my meadow at night. This darkness feels different - heavier somehow, warmer than it should be. The scent of rich silk surrounds me as I stir, my body still sluggish from whatever forced me into sleep.

Memories flood back in fragments: the feeling of a large hand on my cheek, a deep voice I don't recognize, being lifted and carried away from everything I've ever known. Panic surges through me as I sit up abruptly, my heart pounding against my ribs.

The room comes into focus as my eyes adjust - luxurious carpets, dark wooden furniture, heavy curtains blocking whatever lies beyond the windows. This isn't my home. This isn't my forest.

I swing my legs over the edge of the enormous bed, my feet sinking into the thick pile of the rug. As I stand, I notice I'm still wearing the clothes I had on before - a simple tunic and pants, now slightly rumpled from my journey.

Driven by a mixture of fear and curiosity, I make my way to the door, my hand trembling as I grasp the handle. The hallway beyond is equally grand, lit by flickering torches that cast shadows on the walls lined with paintings - all featuring flowers, strangely enough.

I've only taken a few steps when I collide with a solid body. Stumbling back, I look up to see a man with honey-colored hair and warm eyes regarding me with a mixture of curiosity and something that resembles sympathy.

"Oh good, you're awake," he says pleasantly. "Yoongi was beginning to panic."

"Yoongi?" I whisper, the name foreign on my lips.

Before the man can respond, heavy footsteps echo from further down the hall. My heart rate spikes as a tall figure approaches, his silhouette unmistakable even in the dim light. There's an aura of authority about him that makes me shrink back instinctively.

As he draws closer, I can make out his features - pale skin stretched over sharp cheekbones, dark hair falling across his forehead, and eyes that seem to absorb the light rather than reflect it. This must be Yoongi.

He stops in front of me, his gaze lingering on my face as if memorizing every detail. Without a word, he reaches out a gloved hand toward my cheek, his movements surprisingly gentle for someone who exudes such power.