It’s a command that threatens violence for disobedience.
She flinches. I see it in the tightening of her jaw, the brief tremor in her shoulders. But she ignores me.
Eat, and I’ll leave you in peace, Little One. I temper the command. Soften it.
No. Go away.
You’ll die here if you don’t eat. Her answer is thin, and her voice is threaded with the bitter chill she’s experiencing.
I won’t.
At least she is speaking. It steadies me more than it should.
I lower my voice. “There are blankets. Use them. Drink the water. Eat the crackers. You need to keep up your strength.”
She turns her face toward the wall. The silence that follows it is an avalanche of sound.
That is when my once unlimited control snaps. I call the guard over and demand, “Open this damn door.”
“Sir?”
“I said open it. I’m taking her out of here.”
He rushes forward, jingling the keys as he fumbles for the correct one.
The moment my skin meets hers, anger surges hot and fast. She is freezing. Not chilled—freezing. Her body shivers violently in my arms, teeth knocking together despite her effort to hide it.
She attempts to push me away.
I tighten my hold.
She weighs less than she should. I do not like that. A pit forms in my stomach and grows larger by the second.
I carry her from the dungeon, and only when we pass through the exterior doors and sunlight touches her skin do I allow myself to breathe easier. It is not a warm day, but it is miles better than the stone below. At least here, her lungs are no longer forced to draw in that rank, stagnant air.
As I move through the building toward my suite, I reach outward and blur the thoughts of those who pass. Faces register only a vague impression of what I carry. Nothing more. A trick of light. A passing shadow.
Arthur nearly collides with me in the corridor.
He is dressed impeccably, as always, in a tailored grey suit with an ash-blue shirt and a lighter tie perfectly centered. Not a thread out of place. He carries himself like a man who expects rooms to quiet when he enters them. He’s hungry, but disciplined about it.
In another lifetime, another functioning government, he would have been one hell of a leader. For now, he’s accepted his place as my second.
“Hey…I was just coming to find you. We have a situation.” His eyes flick from my face to the figure in my arms and back again. Quick. Assessing. Filing it away.
“Can it wait?” I ask without slowing.
“It can, but?—”
“Then handle it. I’ll be detained for the next few hours.”
His gaze ventures over her again. “Should I even ask?”
“I’d rather you didn’t.”
He nods and steps aside. A faint smile ghosts across his mouth. “Understood. I’ll handle it. And I’ll act as though I never saw you.” The wheels of his mind begin to turn, already calculating how best to manage whatever questions arise about my whereabouts.
I proceed to my rooms. The moment the door shuts behind me, I stride directly for the bathroom and turn on the shower. Steam begins to gather almost instantly. Warm water. Not too hot at first. Her skin would register it as fire. But enough to begin drawing warmth back into her.
