I don't touch it. Just return to my room and close the door.
The second day is the same. He leaves early. I hear him go, the front door closing with careful softness like he's trying not to disturb me. More food appears on the table while I'm in the washroom. This time there's fruit too—fialon berries in a small bowl.
He remembered they're my favorite. The detail makes something crack inside my chest, but I shove it down hard.
The third day, I force myself to eat. Not because I want to. Not because I'm forgiving anything. But because my body needs fuel and starving myself won't change anything that's happened.
Rakk is sitting in the main room when I emerge. He looks up from the book he's reading, those amber eyes tracking my movements. I ignore him completely. Walk to the table, eat standing up with mechanical efficiency, then return to my room without a word.
"Serah." His voice is quiet. Careful. The same restrained tone he used when we first met, before I knew him, before everything fell apart.
I hate it. I hate that he's gone back to being that silent, cautious stranger. I hate that he's clearly trying not to upset me further. I hate that some small, treacherous part of me misses the loud, teasing male from the river who made me laugh despite everything.
I hate all of it.
I close the door without responding.
By the endof the first week, the entire clan knows. How could they not? We're supposed to be newly mated and can barely stand to be in the same room.
I feel their eyes on me whenever I venture out. The other females whisper behind their hands. Warriors watch with varying expressions—some amused, some disapproving, some simply curious. Speculation runs rampant through the settlement like wildfire.
The human won't submit. She refuses her mate. How long will the Chieftain's son tolerate such disrespect?
Lola tries to talk to me about it. "Serah, people are noticing. They're saying things. Maybe if you just?—"
"Just what? Pretend everything is fine?" My voice sounds harsh even to my own ears. "Act grateful that he trapped me?"
"He was trying to protect you."
"He made a choice for me. Again." I wrap my arms around myself. "Everyone always makes choices for me. I'm so tired of it."
She doesn't have an answer to that.
Apparently,Rakk does have an answer to the whispers. Something I learned two days later.
There is a clan gathering in the central plaza, families sharing food and conversation. Rakk asked if I wanted to attend. I saidno. He asked again, his voice still that careful, quiet thing. I said no again.
"The clan expects to see us together." He stood in the doorway of my room, not entering. Never entering without permission. "Just for a short time."
"I don't care what the clan expects."
His jaw tightened. "Serah, please."
That word—please—almost broke something in me. The vulnerability in it, the exhaustion. Like he's been carrying something heavy for too long.
But I'm tired too. Tired of being pushed and pulled and expected to simply accept whatever scraps of choice I'm offered.
"No."
He left without another word.
An hour later, Lola appeared at the door with a message from Thorne. The Chieftain wanted to see his son's mate at the communal meal. It wasn't a request.
So I went. Because apparently even my refusals have limits when the clan's leader gets involved.
The plaza is crowded with families eating, children playing, warriors exchanging stories. Conversation dims when I appear. Heads turn. Whispers ripple outward like stones dropped in still water.
Rakk is sitting with his father and Kaelen near the center. He spots me immediately, something flickering across his expression too quickly to identify. He rises smoothly and approaches.
