The storm howled.The fire grew brighter as the logs shifted.Something inside me settled—not comfort, not acceptance, but clarity.We were both trapped here whether we liked it or not.The roads were gone, the power was out, and the world was buried under a blizzard that didn’t care about guilt or grief or survival.
For now, staying alive meant keeping the peace with the man who should have killed me and couldn’t bring himself to.
I adjusted the blanket with the little slack I had and kept my voice steady.“I won’t sleep again tonight.”
He turned then, meeting my gaze straight on.“You will.”
It wasn’t a threat.It wasn’t a command.It was a fact he believed.
“We’ll see,” I said.
His expression didn’t change, but something in his eyes softened just barely—enough to prove he’d heard what I really meant:
You don’t control me.I’m still here.I’m still fighting.
He nodded once, not like he agreed, but like he respected that I said it.
Then he went back to his chair, the fire between us again, and the long, dangerous vigil continued.
Chapter Five
Mia
I turned my face away.
The silence that followed wasn’t just awkward—it was volatile.I didn’t have to look at him to feel the temperature in the room shift.Gabriel didn’t explode, didn’t snap, didn’t bark an order.He just...stopped.Completely still.Like someone had hit a kill switch inside him.
When he finally spoke, the words were quiet enough that they barely reached me across the table.“You’re not going to win whatever game you think you’re playing.”
A humorless breath left me—too dry and fragile to be called a laugh.“I’m not playing.”
He stood there a moment longer, then walked away before I could read his expression.He didn’t go far—just to the counter, where he leaned back against the wood and crossed his arms.Watching.Waiting.The sandwich sat in front of me like a test I refused to take.
My pulse was too loud in my ears.Hunger wasn’t a feeling anymore—it was a physical force clawing through my gut.My fingers trembled against the table, and when I tried to lift them, they didn’t respond right away.I was running out of time before my body made the decision for me.
But I wouldn’t eat while he watched.Wouldn’t give him that victory.
Gabriel let the silence stretch until it was nearly unbearable.The storm outside had quieted some, or maybe I’d simply gone numb to it.All I could hear was the clock on the wall and the low hiss of the fire.
“You’re going to make yourself sick,” he said at last.
“Maybe that’s the point.”
His jaw flexed once, hard.He pushed off the counter and came back to the table—slowly, cautiously, as if approaching an unpredictable animal.He didn’t sit.He didn’t touch me.He just stood on the opposite side of the table, hands braced on the edge.
“You think this gives you control,” he said.“It doesn’t.”
I met his eyes, my voice steady even though everything else inside me was shaking.“It gives me something.”
That hit him.Not visibly, not dramatically, but I saw the fracture—small, instinctive, unguarded reaction before he buried it under stone again.He stepped back like distance would help him rebuild the walls.
He turned toward the fire and spoke without looking at me.“Eat or don’t.Your choice.”
Then he went to the opposite side of the room.Not pacing this time.Not checking supplies.Just sitting.Far enough away to prove he wasn’t forcing anything.Close enough that I could still feel the weight of him.
The sandwich sat untouched between us.
Minutes passed.Maybe more.The light through the shutters kept shifting, sun climbing somewhere behind the storm.My body grew lighter, floating the way it had right before I passed out earlier.The room tilted softly, a slow slide toward blackout.I pressed my palms flat against the table to steady myself, but that only made the tremors more obvious.
