Chapter Four
Aria
Morning light hurts my eyes.
I blink several times before I realize the brightness is sunlight, real sunlight, pouring through the window.Warm and gentle.Not the harsh, artificial bulbs of the Hunters’ cages.
The air even smells different.Cedar.Clean linens.A faint, steady canine scent in the room’s corner.
Silas.
My heart stutters.
He’s sitting exactly where he was when I fell asleep, back in the chair, long legs stretched out, arms folded loosely, head tipped back against the wall as he snores softly.
He didn’t leave.Not once.
Shock shivers through me, small but sharp.It doesn’t make sense.No one has ever stayed.Not for someone like me.Not without wanting something in return.
I sit up slowly, the blanket wrapped tight around me.The movement makes him stir.His eyes open instantly, alert, and sharp as a blade.They soften instantly when they land on me.
“You’re awake,” he says quietly.“How do you feel?”
How do I feel?I don’t know.I’ve forgotten how to name feelings.Fear is easy.It’s the default.But this, this new thing, fills my chest like smoke, confusing and heavy.
“Okay,” I say tentatively not sure how else to answer.
He watches me too closely.“You’re shaking.”
I look down.My hands tremble against the blanket.I curl them into fists.“It’ll stop.”
He doesn’t believe me.I can see the protest forming, but he swallows it.“Are you hungry?”he asks instead.
My stomach tightens painfully at the thought of food.The Hunters fed us irregularly.Sometimes too much, sometimes not at all.I never knew when the next meal was coming, so hunger became something I pushed down until it gave up and curled in on itself.
Now even thinking about eating makes my throat close.
“Not really,” I mumble.
He nods, but his eyes flick toward the untouched tray Peyton left yesterday.“You need to eat.”
The command should make me bristle.Should make old panic climb my spine.But his tone isn’t forceful.It’s soft.Almost pleading.Like he actually cares that I am starving myself.
“Maybe later,” I whisper.
