Two goddamn days, I spat at him.Does she want to fucking die?
Fenrir answered with a long, low growl.
I lit another cigarette, my fingers shaking just enough to piss me off.
Is it so difficult to say one word? Please? Or even my name, I continued, dragging smoke into my lungs as if it might settle the agitation clawing through me.
“Did you see?” I snapped, pacing.“Did you see her fucking smile as she fell asleep? What the fuck was that? Fucking crazy bitch.”
I raked a hand through my hair, breath sharp, uneven.
Was she really that stubborn—so committed to defiance—that she’d let herself waste away rather than ask anything of me?
The feed held steady.
I stared at her sleeping face. Her brow was drawn tight, tension etched there even in rest. She clutched the thin blanket like it was the only thing anchoring her to the world.
At some point, she’d turned toward the wall—away from the camera whenever she was awake.
She didn’t rage.
She didn’t cry.
She was taking all the pleasure out of this.
I swallowed, jaw locking.
Why wasn’t she breaking?
???
By the third day, she still hadn’t moved.
She remained curled on the mattress, no stretching, no deliberate turn away from the camera. Just stillness. The shivering beneath the thin blanket had worsened—small, relentless tremors I could see even through the feed.
I watched. Counted breaths.
Then she started to murmur.
Soft. Broken. Names slipping from her mouth—her family. Farewells.
Something inside me snapped.
I grabbed the keys and stormed down two flights of stairs, fury driving every step until I reached her door. Her scent hit before I even touched the handle—stale sweat, and urine. It turned my stomach.
Disgusting.
I flung the door open.
Her eyes stayed shut.
I crossed the room in three strides and ripped the blanket away. Nothing. No reaction. I seized her arm and hauled her upright, irritation flaring as her weight sagged against me. I bent and slung her over my shoulder.
She was lighter than she should have been.
I jogged upstairs, one hand braced against her back, ignoring the way her head lolled as we moved. I didn’t stop until I reached the spare bedroom. I dumped her onto the bed and turned immediately toward the adjoining bathroom.
Hot water. Steam. Heat.
