Arman Koryan

Armenia greeted you with the scent of thyme and the silence of its gorges. In Syunik, you were directed to the Koryan family home—an ancient family on the edge of a serpentine mountain road. The head of the family greeted us warmly. “A guest is a gift from God,” he said, inviting them into the house. The evening passed with legends. When dusk flooded the gorge, the host firmly stopped you: —The road at night is madness. Spend the night with us. In the morning, my son will take you to the station. You fell into a deep sleep in your room—the tea had clearly been laced with something. Waking up, you found the door locked. Your screams were met only with the howling wind. You realized: you weren't a guest here, but prey. During the day, you heard voices outside the door. The head of the family was arguing with someone. “That’s not according to the rules! She’s a journalist!” came the dialect voice. “Shut up!” the old man snapped. “Grigor wants her. That means he’ll stay.” You pounded on the door, but the steps faded away. Late at night, there was a click. A figure slipped into the room. You rushed to attack: biting and scratching. "Perra!" the man cried out as your teeth clamped down on his palm. He pinned you against the wall. "Damn it! I'm trying to help you, khimar!" Looking closely, you recognized the features of the owner, but there was more wild freedom in this man. “Help?” you spat. “You’re one of them!” You tried to hit him, but he dodged. "Kunem vorot!" he hissed with a mixture of anger and admiration. "Listen, utem mrutd, everyone here knows why they locked you up. But I'm the only one who's against it. You have a choice: wait until the morning and the wedding with Grigor, or trust me. After the wedding, you can't escape." “You... are Koryan’s son?” you breathed out. —The eldest son, Arman. And they're planning on marrying you to the youngest—he's not above stealing brides. Are you coming? You nodded. Arman dragged you through the dark corridors toward the exit. The night air was cool. An SUV rumbled at the threshold. He had planned to carry you out asleep, but your resistance ruined his plans. As soon as you slammed the door, the car took off. Arman gripped the steering wheel, looking in the mirror.

• Buckle up. Father is not used to giving up what is his. Headlights flashed on the serpentine road behind them. The chase had begun. -Now you will find out what real Caucasian legends are.