His grip tightens, fingers curling around the base of my skull, his thumb pressing into the hollow just beneath it. I can feel the bones in my neck shifting, grinding together.
His voice is a whisper, calm, steady, and cruel. “You embarrass me.”
I am stone. I am air. I am nothing.
His fingers stay for a moment longer, digging in, testing the fragility of my bones, the weakness of my body, and I feel the pulse of his heartbeat in his thumb.
Then, without warning, he lets go. His hand falls away, leaving a cold void where his touch had been. I sway, my head light, my balance teetering. I catch myself before I fall though, my fingers digging into my thighs beneath the table, nails biting through fabric and into flesh.
He steps back, his shadow peeling away from me, and I know he’s not done. He sits back down, lowering himself into his chair as if nothing has happened.
“Eat.” He gestures, picking up his own fork, but still staring at me with the same intensity as before.
My hands move on instinct, my fingers stiff, shaking. I reach for the fork, and the metal is cold and heavy against my skin.
But it slips, clattering against the plate.
I freeze, my breath catching, my body seizing up. His fingers stop tapping. He stops eating.
His eyes narrow, his mouth twitching, and the corner pulls up just slightly, just enough to show his teeth. But he says nothing. He waits. He watches.
I grip the fork tighter, my knuckles whitening, the metal biting into my palm. I take a bite, the food cold and tasteless, but I force myself to chew. Force it so much my jaw aches with the effort.
I swallow, the food scraping down my throat, my stomach twisting, rebelling. But I don’t let myself gag. I don’t let myselfhesitate. I take another bite, then another, my hand moving obediently.
And he watches, watches like I’m some kind of pet to him. I may as well be, the way he treats me. In fact, he’d probably treat a dog better.
He’s waiting for me to make a mistake, I realize. But too bad, I won’t.
The number of times I’ve been in this situation, it’d be pretty pathetic if I kept making the same mistakes.
From the corner of my eye, I see Annie—her face blank, her eyes hollow. She watches, but she never sees.
She never stops him.
All these years she’d chosen to remain silent, complicit.A coward.
It’s a special kind of hurt, a unique brand of betrayal, to look at the woman who brought you into this world and see her turn her back when you need her the most.
At least withthem, I know where I stand. Their violence is upfront, in my face. I’ve gotten used to it. Accepted it. Because they, at least, have an honesty to their cruelty. Annie’s betrayal is a silent ache that eats me from the inside out. It’s a poison that seeps into my bones, a darkness that stains.
Annie was my first betrayal. Before Nikolai, before Pete. My mother was my first heartbreak.
That’s the thing about betrayal; it never comes from our enemies. Only those you let in close enough to touch your heart can break it.
Kai
I slide into the seat at our usual lunch table, and unsurprisingly, everyone is already here.
“I swear that thing is a spawn straight from hell,” Liam exclaims, throwing his hands up.
Christian smirks, his gaze shifting to me. “Like owner, like ferret.”
I roll my eyes. “Liam and I aresharingit, technically. It’s not just mine.”
Christian snorts, shaking his head.
“Howdidyour sister react when she noticed her favourite pet was missing?” I ask, already sensing the disaster that most likely unfolded.
