I padded out of the bathroom, carefully avoiding the rug, and glanced toward the open doorway leading into the hall. He didn’t need chains or doors to imprison me. Then I crossed to the window and stared out at the waves crashing violently against the cliffs. Beyond them lay the vast ocean—stretching past whatever land he’d brought me to.
The longer I stared, the duller I felt. As if someone had stolen all the colour from my life.
I couldn’t find the tenacity I once had.
He’d succeeded in making me a victim.
And he hadn’t lifted a single finger in violence against me.
Chapter 17
Blaidd
In the palm of my hand, I held leaders, members of the monarchy, and various law enforcement bodies—but never had I felt such deep-rooted satisfaction with a new acquisition.
She was a missing person who would never be recovered, no matter how much noise her family made. I owned the police force.
Look at her now. You feared her, I scoffed at Fenrir.
The door was absent, and she hadn’t stepped a foot toward it—not even out of curiosity. I’d waited all morning and knew she must be hungry.
She is contained—for now, he said, watching her on the screen.
I grunted.
She was the one wearing our scent now.
I chuckled and stood up to get her breakfast. I enjoyed her subservient gaze lingering at my feet.
???
She sat on my side of the bed, staring into space. No one alive knew what I was. I’d give her time to adapt and get over her shock. All these years, I’d used women on their knees, facing away from me, so they wouldn’t see my knot. I didn’t need to hide a thing from her—not now.
The presence of her scent made my knot swell, which was nothing new—but now, I could anticipate.
Fenrir stirred. He liked the thought. We both did.
She’d seen him, and he’d allowed her to live. I frowned. And for some reason, he’d offered her our prey.
He remained silent.
I cleared my throat, and she jerked, her head snapping around. She quickly looked away again.
I snagged the armchair and dragged it towards her. The slow scrape of wood against wood made her posture rigid by the time I tipped the chair upright. I sat in front of her, but she didn’t look up.
I glanced past her braids to the tangled mass of curls. Her hair was dull, not as I remembered it on the night of her awards. The irony was that I had her products sitting in my bedroom.
Her Glow.
“You’ll bathe twice a day, morning and night,” I murmured.“I’ll leave some toiletries in the hallway.”
She glanced up, raising her eyes—cautious and concerned.
I handed her the plate, and she looked down before taking it from me. I sat there and watched as she finished every last morsel, trying to keep her hand steady.
???
I rapidly tapped my fingers against my leg as she rose and stepped towards the door. The moment she froze, I knew she recognised her own packaged produce. She fell to her knees and ripped open the first brown box.
