Page 102 of Somno Slave

“Seventy-two hours at a minimum.”

My face burns.

“That’s—” I stop myself, recalibrate. “That’s extreme.”

“That’s the point,” Peter replies, his tone even. “We’ve tried pressure. We’ve tried escalation. He’s not responding to it.”

He gestures slightly toward the monitors. “This will.”

I watch the screen. The small fluctuations in his vitals. The steady rhythm of something that hasn’t changed yet.

“No food,” Peter adds, almost as an afterthought. “No water. We’ll monitor for safety, but otherwise...nothing.”

“He’ll hallucinate,” I say.

Peter nods once. “That’s the idea. People break quickly in there.”

My gaze fixes on the outline of him again.

“You’re sure about this?” I ask, quieter now.

Peter’s gaze lingers on me for a second too long. Then he turns back to the monitors. “Yes.”

The conversation ends there.

I stand there for a moment longer than I should, my body still, my attention fixed on the dark shape in the chair.

I came here to see if he would look at me. If there would be something. Anything that confirmed what I can’t explain.

Now—there’s nothing to see.

No eyes.

No movement.

No way in.

Something tightens low in my chest, sharper than I expect, and I shift slightly.

It shouldn’t matter.

This is better. Safer.

And yet it doesn’t feel like relief. It feels like something has been taken, like I’ve been cut out of it completely.

Chapter Thirty

Rheda

Something cold skims under my ribs.

It shouldn’t feel like this.

It’s just glass, but it doesn’t behave like it.

It sits there, heavy and unmoving, like something has been placed over the room behind it rather than the lights simply turned off.

“You will have no engagement with him today,” Peter says to Mike.