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It takes all my willpower not to smile at the realization.
His anger reappears like it never left, and his scowl intensifies. He leans in until I can feel the wet warmth of his breath on my tear-stained cheek.
“You idiot girl,” he bites out. “You think I’m so stupid that I believe your door just unlocked itself?”
Despite the pain, I manage to roll onto my back. Panting, I raise my fingers to my neck and prod the tender flesh gently. It’s already swelling. Swallowing feels like trying to choke down glass.
Father straightens to his full height above me. He plants his fists on his hips and closes his eyes, taking slow, even breaths to calm down.
When he locked me in the basement, he was entirely civilized until we got down there. Then he ripped off his mask and showed me exactly what kind of monster he is.
Watching him put that same civilized mask back on is even more disturbing than seeing it come off.
My arms shake as I push myself up. “I’ve been asleep. You haven’t fed me in days.”
It’s an excuse as well as an accusation.
I long ago gave up hoping he’ll feel remorse for his abuse, and I’m not surprised by his lack of it this time, either. He slides his hands into the pockets of his expensive trousers and rocks back on his heels as though considering my words. He nods to himself like he’s come to some kind of conclusion.
“You’re protecting them.” He’s looking at me oddly. Like for the first time, he’s realizing I’m not just his compliant Omega daughter.
I work hard to keep a mask of confusion on my features. I can’t let anything slip. I have to let this play out—tell the lie until I believe it myself.
“I’m not.” I insist, choosing each word carefully. “Only Mara and your men know I’m here, and Mara has never pushed against your punishments before. She’s not brave enough to disobey you. No one is.”
I emphasize the last part, hoping that if I stroke his ego, he’ll choose to believe me. My father is undeniably arrogant. He always thinks he’s the biggest, strongest, most terrifying man in the room.
To be completely fair, most of the time, he is.
“You’ve grown brave, daughter,” he says, almost conversationally. “You’ve never stood up to me before. Now, you’ve done so twice in one week.”
He strides through my empty room with a casual air, making a point to take everything in like he’s never seen it before.
Who knows, maybe he hasn’t.
He slowly began taking everything away from me over the last few years, and I can’t remember the last time he came up here to do something besides beating me.
“I can respect bravery,” he continues. “But not stupidity. And if you’re hiding something from me, Idril… that is very, very stupid.”
He walks to the door, but pauses at the threshold to glare at me over his shoulder.
“Whoever you’re protecting, I will find out. When I do, I will end them.” His threat is delivered with a calm certainty that’s more terrifying than if he shouted.
He gives me a mocking smile, then delivers the final blow.
“When I’m finished destroying them, dear daughter, it will be your turn. I will bleed you dry. Until nothing of you remains but regret.”
He storms out, leaving my bedroom doors wide open behind him. The very doors he was so furious about finding unlocked.
The irony isn’t lost on me. He’s sending me a message—telling me without words that it doesn’t matter if my doors are locked, unlocked, or standing wide open.
I can leave if I want to, but we both know I have nowhere to run.
He’s wrong, though.
I’ve already made my first move to escape. He just doesn’t know it.
He has no idea about Caelan
