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Behind her, the great spider body shifted, legs flexing, the web responding to her slightest movement as if she and it were a single creature.

Terror finally broke through the fog in his mind. A Jorōgumo. A creature of nightmares.

He tried to speak, tried to call out.

The threads tightened.

Her head tilted, almost fondly.

"Careful," she murmured, reaching out with a cold hand with a touch far too gentle. "Struggling only makes the silk tighten."

That was the moment when he realized the true horror of where he was.

***

"She never raised her voice," he went on. "Always the same voice, always the same gentle hands…even as she thrust her fangs into me and injected venom to feed off me. My shifter blood meant I wouldn't die easily. I was the perfect meal. She praised me for my delicious essence. But that was not the worst of it."

Silent tears trickled down his pale cheeks as his hands shook. "She produced another kind of venom…to make me compliant. My body reacted to her touch, despite my mind wanting to escape. My body did not want to know that she was a monster while she used it in ways that make me want to kill myself. She called me dinner and a show." His eyes lifted to Fae's, shame bleeding through. "She passed me around like a toy. I don't remember how long that hell lasted, but it felt never-ending."

Fae didn't realize her cheeks were wet.

"She fed from me," he said quietly. "I wanted to die… I wanted to die so many times, but she wouldn't let me." His fingers flexed unconsciously. "Sometimes she touched me while the venom was in my blood, and I felt heavy, warm, agreeable. "

Fae couldn't say a word.

He raged about how she used him when it pleased her. Kept him pliant, fogged, unable to refuse, even when his mind screamed. Sometimes others came—laughing, curious, cruelly indulgent. He learned not to fight. Not because he wanted it, but because resistance simply slid away.

"Once she was tired of me, she came up with a way to make my life worse," he said softly. "A spell shaped like mercy."

She poured his essence into a small carved toy. Small and harmless-looking.

Her last words had been spoken gently, almost fondly.

Careful what you tell, she'd said. Because truth tightens the spell.

"So, I learned to measure every word," he whispered. "How much could I say? How little? Even to you." His gaze dropped. "I didn't know if speaking would trap me forever."

Fae waited for him to finish.

"All I wanted," he finished, voice breaking at last, "was to go home. To see my mother, my father. Just once. To beg for their forgiveness before I ended it all."

Fae reached out before thinking, pulling his shaking form close.

"You know me as Feraal," he whispered between sobs, "but my real name is Kenji."

Chapter 28

Fae held him close like a frightened child while his shivering body clung to her like a lifeline. She didn't know how long it lasted before he finally drew back, awkward and stiff, rubbing at red-rimmed eyes with the heel of his hand. An awkward silence followed.

"You must be hungry," she guessed. "Let me see what I have."

She found some leftover rice. She was still faintly surprised that the little village had electricity and fridges at all—Aiko had taken her on a walk the day before, pointing out the solar panels lining every roof. There was no internet here, but there was heat, power, and mobile phones, which was more than a lot of shifter communities were allowed.

She set a bowl down in front of him with a cup of tea she'd brewed fresh and watched as he devoured it, eating like he didn't trust the food not to disappear.

Dawn had spread pale fingers of light across the wall and floor. She noticed the absurdly long lashes as his eyes finally closed with satisfaction, the way his shoulders eased as he savoured every bite.

When he finished, he looked up at her, then down again.