He looks so big and tough now, but I clearly remember what happened last night when he was asleep. He was scared or atleast stressed out by whatever he was dreaming about, and he wasvulnerable.
This whole cocky attitude is an act that he can’t put on when he’s unconscious.
Yet, it still affects me in a way that I struggle to fight against. I don’t want to have even an ounce of empathy for him.
Gavriil sighs. “Still quiet? You had no issue mouthing off to me in the past, especially in defense of my brother.”
Just the thought of Dominik strikes me like lightning, pain echoing in my chest. I hope that he and his men are doing okay. They’re so close but feel so far away.
Gavriil walks over to the dresser, picking up a tray with a plate of eggs, toast, and various fruit. And is that…cinnamon coffee with a hint of vanilla? Damn him. How did he know? “Your coffee is probably cold by now, but you were still sleeping.”
He didn’t want to wake me? That’s…unexpected. I don’t trust any acts of kindness, though.
Ruthless people like Gavriil always have ulterior motives up their sleeves.
I slowly lift my face off the ground. The world tilts for a second as my head spins. Nausea rushes through me, bile shooting up my throat. It takes every ounce of strength in me to swallow it down and not vomit on the floor.
I don’t even know what I would throw up. There’s nothing in my stomach.
An unsteady breath leaves me as I crawl toward the nearest bar, my trembling fingers wrapping around it to use as support so that I can pull myself off the floor. I bite back a groan as I get to my feet, my muscles aching in protest.
Gavriil opens the cage door and steps inside, holding the tray with the cup of coffee to me. “Stop acting like a stubborn child,Alina. You were never going to save your foolish brother. He doesn’t deserve your grief.”
A flare of bitterness fills me as I peer at him. Oh, is my grieving annoying him? Is my misery inconvenient for him, the man who had my brother killed?
I clench my teeth as I let my arms hang at my sides, not even bothering to clutch my flimsy towel over my nakedness. He made me put myself on display for him yesterday, so what’s the point? He’s already seen everything.
The bastard was so desperate to see me naked that he manipulated me into showering for his sole entertainment. I refuse to cower in front of him ever again. He doesn’t scare me. There’s nothing he can do to hurt me worse than he already has.
Deep down, a part of me still feels like I deserve whatever punishment he dishes out.
Gavriil’s eyes narrow a degree. A crack in the stony expression he usually wears. “Alina.”
The way his accented voice drops makes my heart rate kick up, its pounding echoing in my ears. I don’t reply, though, and I don’t take his offerings. He can choke on his food for all I care.
Even if the food looks really good, and the coffee smells divine.
If I broke down and ate plain scrambled eggs and buttered toast, it would probably taste like the best thing that I’ve ever put in my mouth. Even taking a sip of cinnamon coffee would make me cry in relief, but I don’t budge an inch.
Gavriil lets out what can only be described as an irritated huff.
My eyes widen as I watch him drop the tray on the cage floor with a loud clatter that makes me startle.
He then turns and strides out of the cage before kicking the door shut with his foot, making it clang loudly.
Gavriil then buttons up his shirt, his jaw tight. He returns to the cage to lock the door, as if he suddenly remembered he forgot to do so when his temper flared. He doesn’t even meet my gaze.
Is he givingmethe silent treatment now? Like that would bother me.
Fuck him.
After he tucks the key back into his pants pocket, he leaves the room without a word, the door slamming shut behind him hard enough to rattle the paintings and canvas of me on the wall.
My jaw nearly drops.
Holy shit.
I’veneverseen him like that before. He’s always so calm that it’s eerie, but he just lost his cool. He was mad, and he didn’t bother hiding it for once.
