I sit down, my hands trembling slightly as I pick up the heavy silverware. The first bite of steak melts in my mouth, rich and flavorful. Each mouthful is a revelation, a sensory explosion that makes me realize just how starved I’ve been, not just for food, but for simple, unadulterated pleasure.
The wine is smooth, warming my throat as it goes down. It loosens the tight knot of fear in my chest, replacing it with a hazy, dangerous calm. I eat slowly, savoring each bite, acutely aware that this is a gift from my captor. A calculated kindness.
He wants me to be comfortable. He wants me to be strong. He wants me to be… grateful.
The thought is chilling, even as I spoon the warm, gooey chocolate from the lava cake into my mouth. He is not just feeding my body; he is feeding my mind, subtly eroding my resistance with every luxurious bite.
I finish the meal, feeling sated, almost drowsy. The wine has made my limbs heavy, my thoughts hazy. I push the plate away, a profound weariness settling over me. The fight has been long, and I am tired.
The door opens again, and he steps in. Kaden. He’s changed into dark, tailored pants and a black silk shirt, the top two buttons undone, revealing a glimpse of hard, muscled chest. He looks less like a monster and more like a dangerous, impossibly attractive man.
“You ate,” he observes, his eyes sweeping over the empty plates. A hint of satisfaction plays on his lips.
I nod, unable to speak. The wine has stolen my defiance.
He walks to the table, picking up the rose from the vase. He twirls it between his fingers, his gaze intense. “Stargazer lilies are your favorite, I believe?”
My breath hitches.How does he know that?No one knows that. It was a secret I shared only with my mother, a fleeting memory from a happier time. The knowledge that he has delved so deeply into my past, into the most private corners of my memory, is a profound violation. It’s terrifying. And yet… the fact that he remembered, that he even knew, sends a strange warmth through me.
He sees the shock on my face. His smile widens, a slow, predatory curve. He knows he has struck a chord. He knows he has chipped away another piece of my armor.
He walks toward me, the lily still clutched in his hand. He stops directly in front of me, so close I can feel the heat radiating from his body. My heart pounds a frantic rhythm against my ribs.
He reaches out, his fingers gently brushing a stray strand of hair from my face. His touch is light, almost tender. He tucks the lily behind my ear. The delicate petals brush against my skin, a soft, intoxicating caress.
“You look beautiful, Wynter,” he murmurs, his voice a low, dangerous purr that vibrates through my bones.
My eyes are wide, locked with his. I can’t breathe. I can’t move. I am a deer caught in the headlights, mesmerized by the approaching danger.
He leans in, his scent enveloping me—woodsmoke, leather, and something else, something uniquely Kaden. His lips brush my ear, sending a shiver through me.
“Sleep now,” he whispers, his voice a hypnotic command. “You’re safe. You’re mine.”
And then, a strange, heavy darkness descends. My eyelids grow impossibly heavy. My body sags. I don’t fight it. I can’t. The last thing I feel is his hand gently stroking my hair, and the last thought that flickers through my wine-addled brain is a terrifying, undeniable truth:
He is right. I am his.
Thirteen
Wynter
Iwakeslowly,emergingfroma deep, heavy sleep that feels more like an induced coma. My head is thick, my limbs heavy, and a profound sense of disorientation clings to me like ashroud. For a moment, I don’t know where I am. The unfamiliar bed, the vastness of the room, the lingering scent of him, it all floods my senses, and panic claws at my throat.
Then it comes back. The dinner. The wine. His lips on my ear, his hypnotic whisper:“Sleep now. You’re safe. You’re mine.”
My hand instinctively flies to my ear, where the lily had been tucked. It’s gone. A small, cold dread settles in my stomach. He drugged me. The realization hits me with a cold, hard clarity that cuts through the lingering haze. He didn’t just want me to sleep; he wanted me unconscious. He wanted me compliant. He wanted to strip away my last vestiges of control.
A fresh wave of fury, cold and sharp, washes over me.He thinks he can manipulate me? He thinks he can drug me into submission?I will show him.
I throw off the covers, my feet hitting the plush rug with a soft thud. I stumble toward the bathroom, my body protesting the sudden movement. I splash cold water on my face, trying to clear my head, trying to wash away the insidious feeling of violation.
My reflection stares back at me, pale and haunted. My eyes are wide, pupils still slightly dilated. I look like a ghost. A prisoner.
I find a toothbrush and toothpaste, remnants of the toiletries he provided. I brush my teeth with furious energy, trying to scrub away the taste of his deception.
When I emerge from the bathroom, the room is still dark. I walk to the window, pulling back the heavy curtains. Outside, the world is bathed in moonlight, a vast, silent expanse of snow and trees. The moon is full, casting long, eerie shadows across the landscape. It’s beautiful, yes, but it’s a beauty that feels cold and indifferent to my plight.
I am alone. Utterly, completely alone.
