And that's the most terrifying thing of all.
When I finally get out of the bath—when the water has gone from hot to warm to cool and I can't justify staying in any longer—there's a robe hanging on the back of the door.
Soft. White. Thick, expensive cotton.
His, probably. Way too big for me.
I put it on because I don't have any other options.
I tie it tightly around myself like armor even though we both know it's not.
Step back into the bedroom on feet that feel steadier now, warmer, more solid.
Vaughn is sitting in a chair by the window.
Still fully clothed in the same clothes from when he found me in the woods.
Watching me with that intensity that makes my skin feel too tight.
"Better?" he asks.
"I'm warm."
"Good. Come here."
I don't move.
My feet stay rooted to the spot just inside the bathroom door.
"Eden. Don't make me ask twice."
I cross to him slowly.
Every instinct screaming at me to run even though there's nowhere to run to.
Even though running is what got me into this situation in the first place.
When I'm close enough, he reaches out and takes my hand.
Pulls me closer with gentle insistence.
"You ran from me," he says quietly.
It's not a question.
"Yes."
"You risked your life to get away. Ran into the woods with no supplies, no plan, no resources. Could have died from exposure if I hadn't found you when I did."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because I found the invitation. Because I know what you're training me for. Because I won't—I won't perform for those men like some trained animal. I won't let you parade me in front of the Consortium to prove you've successfully broken me."
"And if I told you the showcase is negotiable? That we could find another way?"
Hope flares in my chest, bright and desperate. "Really?"
