Devil's Prisoner of Love by Prefer

The morning sunlight filtered through the forest, a gentle spring breeze brushing past. Birds chirped on the branches above, and small unknown wildflowers dotted the ground beneath the trees.

Under different circumstances, Ivy might have paused to admire the beauty of her surroundings, but now she was too battered and worn-out to care. All she wanted was to find shelter, rest, and tend to her wounds.

Exhaustion weighed heavily on her body. Her stomach growled, and her entire being ached for a warm place to sleep. But she knew she couldn't afford to rest-not yet. Falling asleep in her current state might mean never waking up again.

Dragging her weary body through the forest, Ivy pressed on. Luck seemed to favor her as she stumbled upon a clear stream. She bent over it and caught a glimpse of her reflection in the water. The sight startled even her-a face battered and bruised, barely recognizable.

Hurriedly, she washed the blood off her face with the cold, refreshing water. The wound on her forehead had already scabbed over, and though it still hurt, the splash of water brought a fleeting sense of relief. Cupping her hands, she drank deeply from the stream.

Under normal circumstances, she might have hesitated, worrying about whether the water was clean or if it might make her sick. But now, survival trumped all other concerns. She simply wanted to live-to live well.

Rejuvenated slightly, Ivy continued walking. She had no idea which mountain range she had been brought to by those despicable men. Last night, she had jumped out of their vehicle, knowing it was heading deeper into the wilderness. If she hadn't escaped, she might never have found her way out.

Hours passed before Ivy saw smoke rising in the distance. Relief flickered in her heart, but she quickly swallowed it-she couldn't afford to let her guard down.

This place might not be any safer than where she'd just escaped. The memory of betrayal was fresh in her mind, and she had vowed never to trust strangers so easily again.

She studied the house ahead. It was nothing extravagant, just an ordinary brick-and- tile home with a rural charm and regional characteristics.

"Who are you? Why are you sneaking around my backyard?"

The sudden voice startled her. Ivy spun around, her heart racing like a frightened bird. Standing before her was an elderly woman. Despite the woman's frail appearance, Ivy remained cautious.

I'll leave right away," Ivy replied, her voice trembling. "Young lady, what

said hesitantly. "Ma'am, could you tell me where I am?" She carefully observed the old woman, feeling a faint sense of reassurance. Something

their face. Ivy thought back to Hale, whose shifty eyes and deceitful demeanor had led her astray. If not

but meticulously clean clothes.

from the mountain? You're lucky to be

in some remote area. I

dialect, her outrage unmistakable. Ivy

hesitantly. The woman's indignation seemed sincere, and Ivy felt a

for free. The next chapter is eagerly waiting for you! "Poor child, come inside," the old woman said, her compassion evident. She led Ivy into the yard, which was simple but cozy. A few fruit trees

sun, while a white cat stretched luxuriously in a bamboo basket nearby, its belly exposed as

had been smooth sailing for so long, but in

already have been sold off. Now, standing here

realized. Money, status-none

do you live here alone?" Ivy asked, glancing at the humble home. It was clear the

to the city for work and have settled down there. They rarely come back," the woman

live with them? It must be tough living here alone," Ivy said, still cautious but genuinely

differently, and every outing requires an elevator or a car. I was always scared

I can go wherever I want. This is my home-where I belong. At my age, I'll soon return to the earth. I want to spend my final

the adventure continues. Join us for the complete experience all for free. The next chapter is eagerly waiting for you! Her words reminded Ivy of Genevieve. She had never known her grandparents, but Genevieve often spoke fondly of her late grandmother's cooking. Perhaps what Genevieve longed for most wasn't just food or memories,

you're happy, that's what matters," Ivy

like you've had a rough time. Let me boil some water so you can