“What happens when you lose control?” I press. He always looks like he’s restraining himself, like he’s holding something back.
“Things I cannot say. Things you do not want to know,” he says, his voice cold and threatening.
“You make it sound like I should be worried,” I point out.
The muscle in his jaw ticks. His fist tightens even more.
“You should be terrified,” he warns me.
His words wash over me like an ice-cold shower. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I push myself fully upright, his gaze tracking every movement.
“I’m not afraid of you, Lucian,” I say, using his name for the first time.
His lips part slightly at the sound of it.
“I heard that other guy call you that.” I shrug. “Nice to finally be able to put a name to the face.” I smirk, feeling slightly triumphant that I’ve managed to catch him off guard.
He quickly schools his features. “I’ve run you a bath,” he says, changing the subject.
“Oh,” I reply, not expecting that. “Thank you,” I add, pulling the sheets back and beginning to stand.
Lucian is there in an instant, scooping me up and carrying me to the bathroom.
“Lucian!” I protest.
He sets me on my feet beside the huge claw-foot tub filled to the brim with bubbles.
“You bathe. Then you will eat,” heorders before stepping out of the bathroom and pulling the door mostly closed.
I blink, unsure what just happened. I’ve been awake five minutes, and he’s already got me confused.
I may have stayed in that tub far too long, but I couldn’t care less. As soon as the hot water caressed my aching body, I never wanted to leave. I washed my hair as best I could with the ridiculous amount of bubbles he’d poured in, but I was beyond caring. I didn’t know what my fate held for me, and the state of my hair was the least of my concerns. I was just grateful for the chance to wash.
When the water finally turned cold, I forced myself out with a heavy sigh. I looked around for a towel, but couldn’t see one. The only thing there was a black satin robe.
It would have to do.
I spot a toothbrush and toothpaste set beside the sink for me, along with a hairbrush. I almost smile at the thoughtful gesture.
No. No, Evelynn. You are a prisoner here. This is not kindness,I remind myself.
Once my hair and teeth are brushed, I make my way out of the bathroom. I feel a lot stronger after eating, resting, and bathing. My stomach rumbles loudly as I enter the bedroom.
My eyes scan the room. He’s gone, but the door is left ajar.
I clench the robe in my fist at my chest and take quiet, tentative steps towards the door, looking around, expecting him to appear and chastise me. My hand trembles as I reach for it. Opening it further, I peer into the dimly lit, stone-cold hall. No windows. No sign of an exit or the outside world.
I bite anxiously at my bottom lip, my heart thundering in my chest. I move slowly down the hall, constantly looking over my shoulder.
The smell hits me; bacon and warm bread. My stomach growls in appreciation, the sound echoing off the stone walls as my feet follow the scent.
I stop at the end of the hall and slowly peer around the corner.
A huge archway opens into a spacious kitchen, with an antique wooden table surrounded by beautifully carved chairs. The table is filled with men—his men—talking and laughing. The one who is cooking turns and says something to another.
One I haven’t seen before.
His long black hair frames his face, and I can’t quite make out his features. He takes a sip of his drink, the colour coating his lips red.
