Page 180 of Captive Ruin

“I… can’t do this right now.” I close my eyes, slumping against the pillow, fully expecting him to insist, to extract promises from me.

He doesn’t.

“It’s fine,” he says quickly. “We’ve made a start, right? Rest, and we’ll talk more when you’re stronger.”

“A start,” I mutter. “Six months since we met, and you call this a start, as if we’re beginning again, as if that’s even possible after all that’s happened. It’s not, and we both know it.”

He looks down at his lap. “Changes, then. Whatever it takes, Amelia, I swear—”

“No. Don’t swear.” I hold up a hand, stopping him. “I don’t want to hear it.” A breath, in and out. God, I’m so tired. “I need to rest.”

“Yes, of course.” He settles in his chair, uncrossing and recrossing his legs. “I’ll be right here.”

“No. I need you to leave.”

“You can’t be alone right now, Little Stray.”

Of course he won’t even grant me that wish. “Van Wyk—”

“Lukas. Please.”

“—I need you to leave.” I don’t know why I say it; I know he won’t.

But he rocks to his feet, unsteady, a hand on the back of the chair for support. I can only watch, waiting for him to lean over me, pin me down, and tell me there’s no escape. To claim I’m his. To threaten to kill any man who touches me.

He doesn’t. He releases the back of the chair and draws himself up, then walks with heavy steps toward the door.

“Where are you going?”

He doesn’t turn or pause. “Fetching Natalie. She can keep you company instead.”

But I don’t know Natalie. Hell, I don’t know anyone here.

I know him best of all, and that’s ironic, when I barely know him at all.

“Wait.” The word slips out before I’ve thought it through.

He stops dead, like I’ve tugged on his leash. And that’s a repulsive thought.

This isn’t a side of Van Wyk I’ve seen before. He seems… defeated. A shadow of who he is normally. It’s me, I know it is. I’m making him act this way.

I don’t like it. I don’t know what to do with a Van Wyk who defers to me. It’s deeply unsettling.

More unsettling than when he doesn’t?

At least that version of him is true to who he is.

“Sit back down?” Then so that it’s a request, not a command, I tag on, “Please?”

He turns to look at me. “Why?”

“I’ve changed my mind,” I say softly. “I don’t want you to leave.”

He’s dangerous, but I feel safe with him. He’s a killer, but he protects me. He’s my captor, but right now, he’s the one obeying.

He regards me for a long moment. “Were you pushing, Little Stray?”

“No, I was…” Angry. Confused. Hurt. “…testing.”