He’s having a nightmare.
Gavriil lets out a grunt like he’s in pain, his head snapping to the side facing me. His expression twists. It’s strained and…scared? He mumbles some more Russian words before his head jerks to the other side, his body tensing.
What in the world is he dreaming about?
For those few minutes as I watch him, I forget how awful I feel. I’ve never seen Gavriil look so vulnerable. He must work very hard to hide that side of him when he’s awake.
Eventually, he lets out one more shuddery breath before falling still and quiet. The nightmare, whatever it was about, is over.
Part of me wishes it hadn’t ended.
I swallow hard, grimacing at how dry my mouth and throat are. There’s barely any saliva for me to swallow. It feels like I’m withering away, becoming nothing more than a shell of who I used to be.
The thought of getting up off the floor, even if it’s cold against my bare skin, makes me want to curl up even more. My muscles ache, especially when I stretch out my legs. I really did need a shower earlier, but it took everything out of me to stand for that long after going so long without anything to eat.
I’ve never felt this weak before. Sometimes, Archer and I would only have a few bites of something for a day or two, but we always had access to water, whether that was public water fountains or even sink water. I’ve never gone this long without drinking. That’s probably what’s hitting me the hardest. How long can I keep this up before my body gives out?
My heart races even from just lying down. My stomach feels like there’s a gaping hole in it and aches so badly that it makesme want to throw up. I haven’t even used the bathroom since the day I was thrown in here.
Things are bad, and I know that they’re only going to get worse.
But maybe suffering is still better than giving Gavriil anything he wants.
7
Dominik
The upstairs doorslamming shut yanks me out of half-sleep, my back muscles straining thanks to the thin mattress.
I groan as I sit up and open one eye to see two of the usual guards stopping at my cell door.
My brow furrows when I see they’re carrying a mattress and a bundled pile of clothes. It’s hard to make out details in the shitty lighting.
“Extra bedding for me?” I remark. “How generous of my brother.” Not that I’ll complain.
The bastard still hasn’t shown his face yet, which is pissing me off more and more each day. He knows that I want to talk to him, and I’m starting to lose my mind worrying about what he’s doing up there that’s got him so busy.
Is he spending all of his time with Alina? Or is there something else eating up the hours of the day and night?
“I guess it’s your lucky day, huh?” Roman, the blond-haired guard holding the mattress, replies. “Daniil, get the door.”
My eyes narrow in suspicion as the cell door opens and they bring the items inside. When he jerks his head toward the back wall, I stand up and take a step back, watching as Roman drops the mattress and the blanket on the ground in front of me.
“Gavriil wants you to have these as well,” Daniil says in Russian with a sneer when he tosses the bundle in his arms onto the floor. “Enjoy.” They quickly leave and lock the door behind them a second later.
For good fucking reason too.
It takes less than a second to recognize them.
My stomach drops.
They’re Alina’s clothes.
I lunge at the cell door, gripping the vertical bars as I glare at the guards. “What did he do to her?” I snarl. “Is this mattress and blanket hers too?”
“What Gavriil does upstairs is none of your business,” Roman replies, amusement glinting in his dark eyes.
“She better not be sleeping on the goddamn floor!” I bite out, fury burning through me at the thought.
