"You can't make me," I insisted, but even I could hear how feeble the protest sounded. Something flickered across his harsh features—not anger, not frustration. Almost amusement. His lips twitched slightly.
"Yes," Caleb said simply, his voice low and absolute. "I can." He bent down and scooped me up like I weighed nothing, one arm under my knees, the other around my back. I struggled—kicked and thrashed and screamed, but it was useless. He was too strong, his arms like iron bands around my body.
"Put me down!" I shrieked, my fists pounding uselessly against his chest, my legs kicking at empty air. "Put me the fuck down!"
"No," Caleb replied flatly, utterly unbothered by my struggles, carrying me as easily as if I were a child. He carried me down the hallway like I was throwing a tantrum, because that's exactly what I was, wasn't it? A child throwing a tantrum against forces she couldn't control.
The kitchen came into view. The table was set for lunch—sandwiches, soup, glasses of water. Mason sat at one end,watching our approach with calm patience, his honey-brown eyes soft but resolved. Ethan was back at his tablet, barely glancing up, his green eyes flicking briefly to assess the situation. Leo was grinning, the bastard, his gray eyes dancing with amusement, clearly enjoying the show.
Caleb sat down in one of the chairs and settled me in his lap, his massive arms wrapping around me like a cage. I immediately tried to get up. His arms tightened, pinning me in place, his chest solid and warm against my back.
"Let me go," I hissed, struggling against his iron grip, my body twisting uselessly.
"No," Caleb repeated, the word rumbling through his chest and into my back, his voice calm and implacable. "You refused to eat breakfast. You locked yourself in the bathroom to avoid lunch. Now you're going to sit here and eat like a good Omega, or Mason's going to feed you by hand."
"I'd rather starve," I spat, my voice venomous.
"That's not an option," Mason said, his voice drawing my attention. He'd moved closer, a sandwich in his hand, his honey-brown eyes patient but firm. "We told you the rules, Ava. We told you the consequences. You chose to test us."
"Fuck you," I snarled, glaring at him with all the hatred I could muster.
"Open your mouth," Mason said calmly, ignoring my venom, holding the sandwich up to my lips. "Eat." I clamped my jaw shut, my teeth grinding together, my green eyes blazing with defiance.
"Ava," Mason said, his voice gentle but implacable, his honey-brown eyes holding mine. "You can eat this sandwich yourself, like an adult, or I can feed it to you like a child. Either way, you're eating. The only question is how much of your dignity you want to keep."
Dignity. Like I had any left. I was sitting in Caleb's lap, pinned by his massive arms, while Mason tried to hand-feed me like an infant. Leo was watching with undisguised amusement, his smirk wide and delighted. Ethan was taking notes on his fucking tablet, his green eyes clinical and detached.
This was rock bottom. This was absolute humiliation.
And it was only the first day.
"Please," I whispered, and I hated how small my voice sounded, how the word came out broken and desperate. "Please just let me go."
"We can't do that," Mason replied softly, something almost like regret in his voice—though through the bond, I felt no actual remorse, only love. "We love you too much to let you destroy yourself. But I promise, if you just cooperate, this doesn't have to be hard."
"You're asking me to give up," I said, my voice cracking.
"I'm asking you to stop fighting a battle you've already lost," Mason replied, lowering the sandwich, meeting my eyes with quiet intensity. "You're claimed. Bonded. Ours. That's not going to change. The only thing you control now is how difficult you make this for yourself."
Tears burned in my eyes. I blinked them back, refusing to let them fall. Through the bond, I felt their love. Their certainty. Their absolute conviction that this was right, that I would come around, that one day I would thank them for this.
I felt Caleb's patience, solid as bedrock beneath me. I felt the pull of the bonds, demanding that I submit, that I let them take care of me, that I stop fighting and just let go. I felt something else, too. Something buried so deep I barely recognized it.
The memory of loving them.
"Fine," I said, the word tearing out of me like a surrender, my shoulders slumping in defeat. "Give me the fucking sandwich." Mason's face softened with approval, warmth flooding throughthe bond from his direction. He handed me the sandwich, and I took it with shaking hands. Caleb's arms loosened slightly, giving me room to eat.
I took a bite. Chewed. Swallowed. It tasted like ash, but I kept eating. When I finished the sandwich, Mason handed me a bowl of soup. I ate that too, spoonful by mechanical spoonful.
Caleb's arms stayed around me the whole time, warm and solid and inescapable. Through the bond, I felt his satisfaction, not triumph, but genuine pleasure at seeing me fed. Like I was a pet that had finally learned a trick.
"Good girl," Mason murmured when I finished, his voice soft with praise, and I flinched at the words, at the way they made something warm bloom in my chest despite my hatred.
"Can I go now?" I asked, my voice flat, my eyes fixed on the empty bowl.
"You can go to your nest," Mason allowed, nodding once. "Dinner is at six. I expect you at the table." I looked at him, really looked at him. Golden hair. Warm brown eyes. That patient, gentle smile that hid the predator underneath.
"I hate you," I said quietly, the words landing between us like stones.
