One week later
The sound of the faucet dripping in the bathroom echoed through the apartment, so loudly I thought my eardrums might shatter.
But the silence after I’d fixed it was almost worse.
“Okay, Ember,” I said, my voice sounding strange. Had it always carried that nasally edge? “From now on, the half-bath is going to be closed.”
The apartment felt bigger than it ever had, and I started counting steps every time I moved, almost to test the space and see if anything had changed.
Thirty-five steps from the bed to the couch in the living room.
The living room was twenty-five steps across, eighteen the other way. The bedroom was ten by fifteen. The bathroom was five by seven.
A doctor came every dawn to withdraw my blood, but they wore a mask and refused to speak to me. Their handling was rough, too, as though Victor had made sure I would find no sympathetic allies.
It was now my sole job to be alive so he could be alive.
The scars on my arms would itch sometimes.
* * *
Three weeks later (I think)
Do it, then! Claim me as yours, and perhaps we’ll finally put an end to this misery.
I repeated his words, over and over. Why hadn’t I just bitten him?
Maybe it would have been the answer to everything. Maybe the claim, his blood in me for once, would be enough to right the wrongs, to fix the bond. Maybe that was what made a mate bond different from a normal claiming by an alpha.
Do it, then! Claim me as yours, and perhaps we’ll finally put an end to this misery.
“Yes,” I whispered, crouched by the window. The sun was starting to rise, and my heart raced. Sunrise was when Victor came home. Was he coming home today?
I thought I heard footsteps, and scrambled to my feet, almost falling when stars exploded in my vision. I was weak, barely eating. Barely sleeping, even though I spent most of my time in bed.
I stood at the door, smoothing down the white lacy thing he’d bought me for his wedding night. He’d liked this one. Maybe he’d notice, maybe he’d finally come back.
But it was just the sound of the guards changing shifts.
I hugged myself, imagining it was his arms on me again.
Witches weren’t meant to be alone.
Oh Hecara, I couldn’t take much more of this.
* * *
What even is time anymore?
I lay motionless on the bed as my blood was drawn.
“Please.”
The sound startled me, and I looked around to see where it had come from. But the doctor didn’t seem to have noticed it.
He finished up quickly, ripping the needle out of my arm without any care or a bandage, and I touched the spot, collecting the drops on my fingers.
“Please.”
