“You’re done. Get out of here.”
I slide off the examination table, my arm still tender where the needle went in. “And what’shisproblem?”
Evander laughs. “Goodbye, Robin. I do think I like you.”
I head out the door. Whatever Jason’s issue is, I don’t want to be trapped in this tiny room when he comes back.
The corridor feels longer on the way back to the dining area. My footsteps echo off the stone walls, mixing with distant sounds of men talking and laughing. When I push through the heavy doors, relief floods through me.
My plate is still there. Caspian has his back to it, arms spread wide like he’s been guarding it from vultures. My ham and bread remain untouched.
“You’re a good man, Cas.”
“Don’t get used to it,” he says, but he’s grinning as he turns back to his own food.
I sit down and tear into the ham, though it doesn’t taste as good now. Jason’s glare keeps flashing through my mind—the way he looked at me like I’d committed some unforgivable sin.
Around us, the other men are finishing up, scraping their plates clean and stacking them in the center of the table. I watch them work, the easy rhythm of it, like this is just another morning instead of another day closer to death.
“Servants come later, apparently,” Caspian explains when he sees me watching.
I nod and add my half-empty plate to the growing pile. The waste feels wrong—we’d never do this on Atrea—but my appetite is gone.
Needing a moment to clear my head, I wander back down to the bathroom. I take two steps toward a sink when the door slams shut behind me, hard.
An icy finger crawls up my spine. I turn around slowly, my heart already sinking before I see him.
Jason stands with his back against the door, arms crossed, blocking the only exit. That same dark glare, but closer now. More focused.
“What did Marco want with you?”
The question comes out flat, matter-of-factly, like we’re discussing the weather. But there’s something underneath it that makes me feel sick.
“What?”
“When they took you to his villa. What did he want?”
I stare at him, trying to process why he cares. “Nothing. He asked questions. I told him to fuck off.”
“Bullshit.”
“It’s the truth.”
Jason pushes off from the door, taking a step closer. “Then why were you talking about him with Evander? Why all the questions?”
Heat flashes through my chest. He was listening. Standing outside that door, ear pressed to the wood like some gossiping old woman.
“That’s none of your business.”
“Everything here is my business.” Another step closer. “I’ve been in this pit for two years. I know how things work. And I know when some pretty new boy thinks he can waltz in and catch Marco’s attention.”
Pretty new boy.I almost laugh. Instead, I straighten up, hands curling into fists.
“You don’t know anything about me.”
“I know enough.” Jason’s voice drops lower, more dangerous. “You need to stay away from him. Marco’s off limits. You understand? To everyone. But especially to you.”
The bathroom suddenly feels too small, the stone walls pressing in from all sides. Jason is slightly bigger than me—not as big as Marco, but solid muscle packed into a frame built for violence. And right now, every line of his body screams threat.
