Elias meets my gaze. “Don’t you?”
I consider this. Arayik has always been the most stubborn of the three of us, and the most devoted to protocol and hierarchy. His father’s influence and sister’s death run deep, shaping him into the perfect soldier. But beneath that conditioning, he’s still the boy I grew up with. The one who shared his lunch when I forgot mine; the same guy who stood against bullies even when he was outnumbered.
He’s scared, I know this. But that’s no excuse to not face whatever this woman has to say.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CASSIA
Thirty-seven cracks mar the ceiling of my room—I’ve counted them seventeen times now.
I trace the bruises along my neck, memorizing each tender spot where Arayik’s fingers dug into my flesh. The marks have darkened overnight, a collar of purple and blue that brands me as a traitor. My throat burns when I swallow, a constant reminder of how close I came to death.
How close I still am.
Anything to keep my mind occupied.
Footsteps echo in the hallway beyond my door—heavy boots thudding in a measured cadence I’ve learned by heart. Two Enforcers pass every hour, their timing so precise I could set a clock by it. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think they were protecting me. But from what? They’re the same men I need protection from.
Life moves on around me as if nothing has changed, and the entire foundation of the world hasn’t shifted.
But it has. They know what I am now, even if they don’t know what to do about it.
Laughter drifts from somewhere outside, the sound depressing and alien after the post-almost-death silence. Thetraining yard must be active today. I wonder if they’ve replaced me yet…if some other recruit is struggling through Arayik’s brutal conditioning while I rot in this concrete box.
They probably miss having someone to beat up.
Scrunching my eyes closed, I press a thin pillow on my face and try to remember what my mother’s voice sounds like. It’s been so long since I left home, but already the memory feels distant, like trying to recall a dream after waking. Does she know what happened to me yet? Does she lie awake at night wondering if I’m alive or dead?
Does she regret not stopping me?
The lock mechanism in my door clicks, and I don’t bother sitting up. It’s probably just Arayik coming to try again.
“Hungry?”
Elias’ voice chases away my brooding, and I drop the pillow to focus on him. He stands in the doorway holding a tray awkwardly, his mask absent for once. Without it, he’s younger somehow. More human. The sharp angles of his face are softened by the dim light filtering behind him.
“Depends if you’ll also grace me with a trip to the bathroom,” I drawl, pushing to sit against the wall. My voice comes out very rough and scratchy, still raw from Arayik’s grip.
He steps in to shut the door, eyes widening considerably. Is he serious right now?
“You do know that women don’t have dicks, right?” My head tilts toward the sink. “I can’t just go wherever I please.” I won’t admit I did, in fact, pee in the sink rather than bang on the door and beg for an escort.
A girl can’t hold her bladder forever, gross as it was to squat over the gritty thing. Thank the stars for soap.
The man blinks. “You’re right, I’m sorry, I—” A long swallow before he speaks again. “I did not consider that. Of course you can use the bathroom.”
“It’s fine!” I exclaim when he reaches for the door. “I can wait.”
That earns me a nod before he sets the tray on the small table beside my bed. Steam rises from what smells like actual food—not the dried-up shit that’s only edible with heaps of water. “Thought you might be hungry.”
I eye the plate suspiciously. “What’s the catch?”
“No catch.” He pulls the single chair away from the table and lowers himself, leaving space between us. “Just figured you could use a decent meal.”
The smell overpowers me then—roasted meat, vegetables, something that might actually have flavor. My stomach clenches with the hunger I’ve been fighting to ignore. When was the last time I ate food that wasn’t designed purely for nutritional efficiency? If I never saw a stick of jerky again, it would be too soon.
“You’re being awfully kind for someone who’s supposed to be my captor,” I observe, but reach for the tray anyway. Pride won’t fill my stomach.
