Novel Bin
The Ritual
The cold winds whipped through the streets of Saint Petersburg, where the bare trees on either side of the road swayed as if whispering secrets no one could decipher. Irina walked alongside Dmitri, her heavy footsteps betraying her hesitation, yet she couldn't resist the magnetic rhythm of his presence.
The street they entered was shrouded in darkness, illuminated only by the faint glow of a few aged lamps casting shadows on the snow-dusted pavement. Silence hung thick in the air, yet every step she took beside him felt like a journey closer to something unknown—something larger than her desire to flee.
Snowflakes gently descended from the sky, a soft and delicate offering, as though nature sought peace that humans could not grasp. Their frozen breaths rose like invisible confessions spoken without words. Irina felt everything—the crunch of snow beneath her boots, the echo of Dmitri's footsteps, and the warmth of his hand when he suddenly took hers.
Irina (thinking): "What am I doing here? Why can't I resist him? This man... He binds me without touch, draws me without words. What is this spell he has cast over me?"
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