“Since I fucking said so.”
She sniffs. “You’re almost cute when you’re delusional.”
“Alright.” I stand up. “I think we’ve had enough. Grey, Scar, I’m sorry. Toby, get logical—hysteria doesn’t suit you.”
I take Ember’s wrist and stand her up. Surprisingly, she doesn’t fight me as I half-lead, half-drag her out of the room.
I don’t know if Ember’s goal is to stir up something or just to irritate and alienate everyone around her. In either case, she’s succeeding. Toby wants her head on a platter, and she pushed away the only other female friend she could have here.
She’s so shut down. Not like my shy Flame, who was usually quiet, quick to blush, witty and sharp-tongued when she got comfortable, but ultimately, desperate for human connection.ThisEmber seems to have decided that the whole of humanity is not worth the trouble and behaves herself accordingly. She’s the very definition ofI’m better off alone,but I think there’s still a spark somewhere inside her that craves human connection—it’s just buried under trauma and horrible life experiences.
Once we’re out of the dining hall, I pause in the lobby, glancing around. I had intended to take Ember on a tour around the grounds—both to inform her of how impossible it is to escape from here, and show her the boundaries of her gilded cage—but I’m not sure if exposing her to any more people here is best.
Fuck it. Everyone’s at lunch, and she could use some sunshine on her skin.
“If I take you outside, will you behave?” I ask her.
She glances at me from the corner of her eye. “Maybe.”
Good enough.
“Why did you push Scarlett away?” I ask her, opening the front door and switching my hold from her hand to the small of her back.
She frowns at me. “I didn’t.”
“You made her feel insecure about her relationship with Greyson—or, at least, you tried to.”
Her frown deepens. “How?”
“By asking her if she’d been Stockholm Syndromed or if she was being forced to sit on his lap. You made the assumption that there’s no way she’d do that in her right mind, and she caught onto it.”
Ember’s frown smooths out. “Oh. Well, that’s a reflection of her insecurities, not my questions. My assumptions were reasonable and fair—if she’s a captive here, like me—so maybe sheshouldbe asking herself why she’s not Stockholm Syndromed or being forced to bond with her captor. Maybe she needs to take a nice, long look in the mirror.”
I briefly shut my eyes, shaking my head. To an outsider, Ember might sound like a narcissist, but I know her better. At least, IthinkI do.
“You should apologize to her the next time you see her.”
“Why?”
“Because she could be your friend.”
Ember smiles bemusedly. “I have no interest in friends at all, let alone weak ones.”
That gets my back up. Scarlett’smyfriend, and I know there’s very little that’s weak about her. She’s stronger than most of the men in this fortress.
“Shut up andlisten,” I say tersely. “You’re not just lacking empathy, you’re lacking logic.” I grip her chin, forcing her to face me. “You know nothing about Scarlett, but I’ll give you the Cliffnotes version; she’s spent her life being harmed and abused because of the cruel men around her. Greyson fucked up severely when they met, then risked his life for her repeatedly before she finally came around. He worships the ground she walks on. He has a reverence for her I’ve never seen before, because he knows damn well she’s stronger than he could ever aspire to be. She’s on his lap because he worked hard to earn the privilege of having her there, and because he takes care of her. Takeyour selfish assumptions and shove them up your ass, Ember.” I release her abruptly and step back.
Ember stays in place, brows furrowed, eyes contemplative. I let her think it through, trying to wrangle my own temper in check. I have a soft spot for Scarlett, and I donotappreciate her being disparaged.
God, where is the girl I fell for? Will Ieversee that side of her again? Does it evenexist?Did I make a mistake in bringing Ember here and claiming her before doing some serious digging on her?
She’s traumatized, I remind myself.Shut off, and rightfully so.She’s stuck in a toxic spiral of self-protection that might keep her safe from the world by hiding behind reinforced walls, but also keeps all the good things in the world at arms length.
After a while, she finally says, “I didn’t know that.”
“Yeah,” I say harshly. “Because you didn’t have the decency to ask. Being so black and white may have served you as an assassin, Ember, but it won’t do you any good here.” I take her by the crook of her elbow and start steering her towards the greenhouse. It’s a walk that’ll give me the opportunity to calm down,andwill show Ember that Scarlett has quite a lot of value here.
She’s silent throughout the walk, eyes running over the fields, the glimpses of fences. They shine with a mixture of curiosity and analysis—she’s casing and drinking in information at the same time. If I weren’t so pissed, I’d try to make conversation with her, but right now, I’d only disparage her. She can use a reality-check or three, but it’s best to let her reach the conclusion that she’s in the wrong on her own rather than shouting it at her.
