“Timeline?”
“Six months. Maybe a year.”
Cain shakes his head. “Too long. Make sure she’s ready for trials in three months.”
Three months. The back of my neck prickles, and intuition niggles at my gut. “Why the compressed training period?”
“It should be more than enough, if you do your job well.”
Not with our history. “You didn’t answer my question. This has something to do with your chosen, doesn’t it? You want Scarlett to be properly settled to set an example for the poor girl you’re going to bring here for yourself.”
“My affairs are not your concern.”
“Right back at you. You have no right to stick your nose in my business. I do my part, and I go above and beyond. The least you owe me is the agency to deal with Scarlett on a timeline that works—”
“I owe younothing,” Cain hisses, leaning forward. “Nothing, Greyson. You are my subordinate, and youwillobey—or you’ll deal with the consequences for disobedience. Your little Flower looks particularly lovely, though a bit malnourished. It would be a shame if any unintended…harmwould befall her.”
I drop my arms, fists clenching by my sides. Cain’s crossing a line by threatening Scarlett, and he knows it. I’ll take a lot of shit from him, but she’s off-limits.
“You touch her, I’ll kill you.”
“Have her ready in three months, and I’ll have no cause to touch her.” Cain jerks his chin. “Go. Get to work.”
“One day, you’re going to regret abusing my friendship,” I warn him, and he will. Cain holds himself apart from everyone… and that’ll eventually come around to bite him in the ass. I have no doubt he’ll need help when he finally gets his hands on his chosen, but he won’t get it here. Not with the way he’s acting.
“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there, won’t we?”
The three hours trickle by at a glacial pace. When the timer on my phone finally goes off, I navigate my way back upstairs, a tray of food balanced in one hand, and make my way straight to Scarlett’s temporary quarters. She’s sitting on her bed, cheek resting on her knees, which are drawn up to her chest. She looks phenomenally vulnerable and confused, but the moment I enter, fire sparks in her eyes.
That’s my girl. She won’t make this easy for me, and I look forward to breaking through her pesky resistance, slowly but surely.
“Have some good time to think, Flower?” I ask mildly.
“What are you hoping to achieve?” she demands.
Her mood has seen no improvement in her few hours of thinking time; she’s looking at me like she wants to poison me all over again. The metal chair I left in front of her bed is still there, so I take a seat in it, setting the tray on the bedside table.
“In this moment? Getting some meat back on your bones. In the future? You’ll find out.” I pick up the plate with cubed and seasoned chicken, surrounded by sauteed vegetables and a piece of fresh pita bread. I had little time to do research on Scarlett once I found her—I was too eager to get her back in my possession—but Toby found out everything there is to know about her. Including her favorite lunch order from a Mediterranean hole-in-the-wall restaurant near the lab where she worked.
Scarlett glares at the food, glares at me, then turns to glare at the wall. “I’m not hungry.”
“Don’t be a child,” I say harshly. “Starving yourself is not an option. Being unhealthy isnotan option. If I need to tie you to the bed and have a doctor insert a feeding tube, that’s exactly what I’ll do, Scarlett. You don’t want to fucking test my mercy.”
“What mercy?” she asks quietly. “You’ve never shown the capacity for it.”
“You not waking up chained was mercy. If you keep being a brat, that will change very quickly.”
Her jaw clenches and her lips purse, but my threats must get through. She reaches for the plate of food, but I pull it back. “Uh-uh. Open.” I lift up the fork to her lips.
My small, beautiful little Flower snaps. She slaps the fork out of my hand, sending it clattering to the ground with an unappetizingsplat. “Go fuck yourself!”
I sigh. Shake my head at her with a look of genuine disappointment. Then, I set the food back on the nightstand, and pounce on Scarlett. She’s so shocked by my sudden movements that she barely has time to fight; I have the cuffs stowed in my pocket out and around her wrists, holding them behind her back, before she can manage to do any harm.She lets out a furious screech as I close the metal around her wrists and immobilize her hands behind her, wriggling around like a feral animal.
I take a seat back in my chair and watch her writhe around for a while. Listen to the curses she calls me, the vows to see me dead, the declarations of hatred. I let her have out her little tantrum, waiting patiently for her to tire herself out, like she always does.
It only takes a couple of minutes. She rolls over onto her back, then awkwardly manages to sit up, facing me with a look of sheer fury. “I fucking hate you.”
“I know you feel that way… now.” I reach for the plate again. “If you try to interfere in me caring for you, that’ll end with consequences. This is your first example of that. Some days, you’ll have a bit of agency; others, you’ll be reliant on me foreverything. When you’re in this room, you have no agency. Resisting will only make things harder for you.” I tear off a piece of the warm pita bread, use it to scoop up some tomatoes and a few small cubes of chicken, and hold the food up to her lips. “Be a good girl andopen.”
