He leaves me with a dazzling smile and slides out the door. It closes firmly behind him, and I don’t even bother trying the handle. I know it will be locked.
Loneliness washes over me the instant the door clicks closed, and I scoot over toward it and press my ear against the seam, trying to soak up the last bit of Fin that I can.
His voice is easy to hear as his boisterous exclamations penetrate the wood.
“It’s all gone, mister Weston! And she ate some too, not just me! She said she’ll be good. Can she come out soon?”
Weston’s response is harder to hear, and I have to strain to make out the low murmur. “We will see, Fin. We will see.” There’s a pause before he murmurs again. “You did good.”
“Thanks, mister Weston! Maybe I can have a bow for when she comes out. She was teaching me how to shoot and I need to practice.”
“We’ll see if we can get you a bow.”
Footsteps disappear up the stairs as the voices fade away, and the silence and darkness of my room feel stifling.
He is so convincing, the bastard. He has Fin wrapped around his finger, soaking up every word and praise for his actions, giving him gifts and telling him he is safe.
It’s all a lie. And now I know his plan.
He might not want to poison me, or torture me for the location of the waters, but he has yet to ask me if Dawnlin deemed me worthy. I am going to hold on to that information as long as I can, and hopefully Fin doesn’t tell my secret. He didn’t seem to want to talk about it at all. He was more interested in whatever his new tasks were as part of ‘the crew.’
Despite his manipulative tactics, I appreciate the fullness in my belly, which has eased much of the discomfort from the past few days. I just hope I can keep it all down. Crawling into the cot is tempting for a second, but I hold my ground and curl up back on the floorboards, facing the wall.
Knowing Fin is safe and unharmed brings me comfort, but I know getting him to let go of the trust Weston has already won is going to be difficult. That comfort combined with the lack of hunger pangs makes sleep come easy, and I drift away, dreaming of finding my way back to Dane.
CHAPTER FOUR
My body jolts as I fall, a piercing scream ringing in my ears. My fingertips claw at the ground, only to find the wooden grain of the floorboards beneath me. Sweat covers my face, and my clothes are soaked through as I heave breaths, gasping and sobbing and looking around me.
Still locked away.
I try to focus on my breath to calm my erratic heart, but it’s not slowing.
Another nightmare. This one wasn’t like the first. I was falling, but there wasn’t anyone chasing me off the cliffs. This time it was just me, falling into the center of Dawnlin, being eaten alive by the island as a punishment for being unworthy.
I roll to my side, facing the room, my ragged breaths broken up by a sob from all the emotions washing over me now that I am awake. The door slams into the wall behind it, and I jump at the sudden noise, snapping my head toward the doorway. Light from outside cascades in, slicing through the darkness, and I have to squint against it.
The silhouette of a body takes up most of the space, and I immediately know who stands there.
Weston.
My eyes adjust to the light as I squint up at him, only to find him looking around the room, head snapping back and forth. His eyes are wild as he assesses for the threat that caused my scream. Little does he know it’s just my mind.
When he doesn’t find one, his gaze falls to me. I can only imagine what he sees, what I look like now. Hollow, weak, and crumpled in a ball on the floor. Not the same person I was over a week ago.
Despite being fully clothed, my skin tingles as his eyes drag over me, and I suppress a shudder. His face hardens. Any concern that was there a moment ago is gone as soon as he lays eyes on me. A muscle in his jaw ticks, but he says nothing. He just turns away, slamming the door behind him, the force of it shaking the boards underneath me.
I’m once again shrouded in darkness as I listen to his loud footsteps stomp away.
“Signee!” he yells from somewhere far away, fury lacing his tone.
I lay my head back down on my arm, taking a deep breath and trying to prepare myself for whatever is coming next. I can imagine it won’t be pleasant since his current tactics aren’t working. He’s going to have to shift to something else.
Barely a few moments pass before the door opens again and I turn toward it, but it isn’t Weston. It’s the woman. She is holding a lantern like Fin’s, with a pile of fabric shoved under her arm. Setting the lantern down on the floor, far out of my reach, she crosses the room to the cot and tosses the pile on top.
“Come on,” she says as she bends down and takes each of my hands in hers. “It’s time to get up. Enough wallowing.” Her voice is firm, and I immediately feel like I’m back in Blackwood getting scolded by Brynne during training.
“I’m not wallowing,” I snap back. My voice comes out scratchy, probably from not using it for days and from the screaming moments ago.
