“Sorry,” I told him. “I’ll lie on my stomach. That way it will at least be muffled.”
He nodded and stood. “Thanks, Doll.”
My stomach churned, and I sat up further, my lips pulling into a frown as he climbed up to his bunk. “Kane,” I said solemnly. “Don’t call me that in private. Please.”
He peered over the edge of his bunk with an apologetic look. It was the most genuine I’d ever seen him. “You got it, sweetheart. Now go back to sleep.”
But the nightmares came back with a vengeance. I could feel myself thrashing in my sleep, but I couldn’t stop either. I felt trapped in a state of paralysis, unable to keep myself from screaming. It wasn't until something warm grabbed my hand that my body finally allowed itself to rest. It felt like an anchor, like nothing could hurt me as long as I kept hold of it, my grip tight.
Sometime in the night, I rolled over with a yawn and froze, shocked at what I found.
A second camera in the opposite corner had been turned on, its red recording light adding another layer of brightness to the room. Kane was asleep sitting on the ground beside my bed, his head on my mattress, and his hand tucked in mine.
I swallowed, not sure if I should remove my hand from his or hold onto him tighter. I shifted, letting myself curl in toward him and deciding on the latter, wrapping my other hand around both of ours and holding his fingers like the lifeline they felt like. My eyes fell heavy, but I made out Rafe across from us and stiffened.
His eyes were open and alert, as if he hadn’t gone to sleep yet, and he was staring at mine and Kane’s hands.
Slowly, his gaze trailed up and met mine. He looked strange. Not angry. Not sad. Just…unsure. It occurred to me that Rafe had never been purchased by a Buyer with any other person before. He was always sent off alone. I couldn’t imagine what that must’ve been like. Even that small kindness from Kane was more than what Rafe had likely seen all his life.
I hesitated slightly before I lifted my hand from clasping mine and Kane’s, extending it toward Rafe.
His eyes darted down to my fingers, his entire body jerking back a little as if I’d shocked him with my gesture. His brows pulled together, the confusion on his face truly heartbreaking. I would never call myself a lucky girl, but maybe in Viktor’s house, I had been. I’d had Leah. Then I had Thorne. Now, I’d been bought, but I had all three Creeds with me. I’d never had to be alone. What did Rafe have growing up? Anyone? He didn’t even have Kane until the last four years, and even then, he was still sold off alone until now.
For a moment, I thought he might take my hand. His eyes lingered on my fingers, his brows still drawn in that way that made my chest hurt. I held my breath, waiting, wanting—because if anyone needed the small mercy of a hand held, it was him.
But then his jaw flexed, and he turned away. Nothing but the shift of his shoulders as he rolled to his side, his back cutting me off. The rejection stung sharper than I expected. My hand hovered there a beat longer, suspended in the space between us, before I pulled it back into the safety of Kane’s grip.
“Safe dreams, Rafe,” I whispered.
I don’t really know what made me say that.Safeinstead ofsweet. I think deep down I knew we were all a little too rotted to ever claim anything sweet, but safety—there was still a way to safety. In the small things. When we were alone or together.
He turned back at my words, his chin hooking over his shoulder. I honestly thought he might speak. That I’d hear him say,Safe dreams, Arden.But he didn’t. His gaze fastened to my mouth, then flicked up to my eyes. His brows drew together again, his lips pressing together in frustration.
It was then I realized, despite living near his orbit for over a decade, that it wasn’t that Rafe Creed didn’t want to talk; it was that he couldn’thear. He sensed I’d spoken, but he had no idea what I said. So I said it again, mouthing the words to test my theory, without saying them aloud.
Almost imperceptibly, breaking my heart a little further, the corner of his mouth hooked with a small smile before he turned back to the wall.
The lights came on without warning, a blinding flood that burned through my eyelids and set every nerve screaming awake. Boots hit the floor outside our cell.
“On your feet!”
The bolt slid back, and the door slammed open. Soldiers poured in, rifles leveled, movements precise. Kane cursed under his breath, dropping from his bunk. Thorne swung down beside me, one arm instinctively braced in front of my chest, but the muzzles made it clear there would be no room for defiance.
“Hands behind your heads.”
Cold cuffs snapped shut around my wrists. I caught Rafe’s face as they shoved him forward, his jaw tight and eyes distant.
We were marched single file through corridors that all looked the same. There was nothing but concrete, white lights, and steel doors with numbers instead of names. Then the hallway widened, spilling into a chamber twice the size of Viktor’s courtyard butcolder, emptier. Rows of soldiers stood along the walls, visors blank, rifles upright. Above them, a glass balcony stretched across the far wall, tinted black and reflective enough I made out our distorted lineup.
Then a man stepped up to the balcony’s rail. His hands braced on either side of him, he peered down with an expression as cold as the fucking building, black-peppered hair gelled back and dark suit clean cut.
The weight of the room shifted with his presence, every soldier stiffening like a string had been pulled tight through their spines. His gaze tracked us one by one, deliberate, assessing.
“Step forward,” he said at last.
Rafe went first, shoulders squared, chin tilted, every inch the soldier Viktor had carved him into. Kane followed, cocky grin plastered on his face even with his wrists bound. Thorne stepped up silent, hands loose, eyes unreadable.
Then me.
