31. Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-One
Victoria
W aking with a start, my heart racing, trying to orient myself, and for a moment I couldn't remember where I am, but then reality comes crashing back. I’m still in the room they’d given me, still a prisoner of this twisted family.
As my eyes adjust to the dim lighting, I realized I’m not alone. Marcus is sitting in a chair by the bed, he has a book in his hand. He’s flipping through it absent-mindedly, before his eyes flicker to me. Blue eyes flicker with amusement as a hint of a smile came to his lips. A tray of food sits on the bedside table, steam still rising from what looks like a bowl of soup.
"Good evening, sleeping beauty," Marcus hums, his voice soft but carrying an undercurrent of something I can't quite place. "I hope you're feeling more... cooperative than you were with my father earlier."
I tense at his words, pushing myself up into a sitting position. "How long have you been here?" I ask, hating how vulnerable I feel. I knew falling asleep wasn’t a good idea, but it seems like my body had a mind of its own. Marcus’s lips curve into a grin, teeth showing, making me feel a bit unsettled. Licking my lips nervously, I curl my arms around myself.
“I haven’t been here too long. If you hadn’t woken up on your own, I'd woke you in the next few minutes so the food wouldn’t get cold.” He tells me, shutting the book and setting it on the small desk next to him. He leans back in the wooden chair as if he’s waiting for me to argue about something. Which was a total possibility…
"What time is it?" I ask, changing the subject about the food getting cold. I don’t want to eat. I don’t want to chance them feeding me ‘human’ meat again.
Marcus makes a small tsk sound before he glances at his watch. "Just past seven in the evening. You've been asleep for a few hours." He motions to the bedside table, the smell of food making my stomach growl traitorously despite my apprehension, "I brought you dinner. Father mentioned you haven't been eating, which won't do."
"I'm not hungry," and that’s a total lie. My eyes betray me and dart to the soup before going back to Marcus. He just shakes his head at me. He knows I’m lying. The sound of my stomach kind of ruins any lie I can say about not wanting food.
Marcus raises an eyebrow, clearly not believing me. "Your stomach seems to disagree," he says, his voice tinged with amusement at my bald-faced lie. "Come now, Tori. We both know you need to keep your strength up."
I swallow hard, eyeing the soup warily. "How do I know it's not... like the last meal?" I ask, unable to keep the disgust from my voice. I would be second-guessing anything they give me as food from now on…how couldn’t I?
"It's just chicken noodle soup," he says, his voice taking on a coaxing tone. "Nothing... unusual in it, I promise."
I eye him warily, not sure if I can trust his words. Though none of the men have ever lied to me while here. They’ve always been truthful and upfront with almost everything besides what was going to happen during the tests, "How do I know you're telling the truth?"
"Because I have no reason to lie to you at this point," Marcus says, his blue eyes intense as they meet mine. “This is simply about keeping you nourished."
I eye the bowl suspiciously, torn between my hunger and my distrust. Glancing at Marcus once again, I decide not to move to eat the soup. He sighs before he stands up smoothly, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. I tense at his proximity but force myself to hold my ground. Marcus picks up the bowl of soup and holds it out to me.
“Eat.” He tells me in a commanding tone. The tone one would use when they’re standing their ground and won’t back down.
I eye the bowl apprehensively, my stomach growling despite my hesitance about what the food could be. Marcus's commanding tone makes it clear it wasn't a request.
Marcus sighs after I still hadn’t moved to take the bowl, his expression softening slightly. "Look, I understand your hesitation. But starving yourself won't change your situation. It will only make things harder for you in the long run."
He holds out a spoonful of the soup. "Here, I'll even taste it first if that will ease your mind."
Before I could protest, he put the spoon in his mouth, swallowing the soup. That didn’t give me any reassurance of what could be in the food. Besides it not being drugged. Which could also have been a possibility.
"See? Just ordinary chicken soup. Now please, eat." He tells me holding the bowl out to me again. With shaking hands, I reach out and take the bowl from him.
“You know eating it didn’t really prove anything…right?” I tell him, raising an eyebrow with a shaky smirk on my face.
He gives a light laugh, “I guess not…but you took the bowl…didn’t you?” Marcus smiles at me teasingly as I shake my head in annoyance. I look at the soup in the bowl, it looks good, and I can tell even the pasta noodles are homemade.
“Did your mother make this?” I ask, trying to delay eating. I know he sees what I’m doing as he gives me a pointed look.
“I know you’re stalling…. but I will answer you.” He grins as he looks down at the soup then back at me, “It was made by our mother….and Jasper. He wanted you to eat something.”
I jerked up at that, “Jasper?” I know he’s the most unpredictable one…. He's good at doing and saying things that make me pause.
Marcus laughs at me in disbelief, “Yes, Jasper quite likes cooking with our mother. I believe he feels like it’s a bonding tool. He may try to do the same with you… eventually.” I’ll be surprised if they ever let me in the kitchen. There are plenty of sharp objects in there…my mind drifts off and Marcus must have seen this as he clears his throat.
“Now eat. Don’t make me ask a third time.” I sigh at his words, but with a shaky breath, I lift the spoon to my lips. The first taste of warm broth hits my tongue, and I nearly moan in relief. It really is just chicken noodle soup, rich and comforting. I hadn't realized how hungry I truly was until that moment.
"There's a good girl," Marcus says softly. His eyes never leave my face as he watches me intently as I eat, a small smile playing on his lips.
"See? Nothing to be afraid of," he murmurs, allowing his voice to become soft, "We take care of what's ours, Victoria."
I pause at his words, the second spoonful halfway to my mouth. "I'm not yours," I say quietly, but with less conviction.
Marcus's eyes darken slightly at my words, his smile taking on a predatory edge. "Not yet," he says softly. "But you will be. Soon enough, you'll belong to all of us."
I suppress a shudder at his words, forcing myself to take another spoonful of soup. The warmth that has been spreading through me from the food now feels tainted by Marcus's possessive declaration.
"You keep saying that" I mutter, staring down at the bowl. These men intimidate the hell out of me, but at the same time draw me in. I don’t like the fact I’m curious about them and that I find myself reacting to such men…. I shake myself out of those thoughts before I wind up in a rabbit hole down to wonderland, "But you can't just... claim a person. I'm not property to be owned."
Marcus chuckles, the sound sending chills down my spine. "Oh, but we can, little one. And we will." He reaches out, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. I flinch at the contact but don't pull away, not wanting to risk angering him.
"You'll come to want to own us in the same way.” Marcus’s eyes gleam with an unknown emotion. I watch him warily trying to figure out if I want to comment back or not.
I stare at Marcus, trying to process his words. The idea of wanting to ‘own’ them, to have that same possessive claim over them, not only felt alien to me, but it sounds wrong. A small part of me, a part I try desperately to ignore, is intrigued by the intensity of his gaze and the promise in his words.
"I don't think I'll ever see things the way you do," I say softly, forcing myself to meet his eyes. "This isn't normal. It isn't right."
Marcus's lips curve into a cold smile. "Normal is relative, Victoria. What's normal for the spider is chaos for the fly." He leans in closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "And in our world, you're the fly caught in our web."
I suppress a shudder at his words, and at the predatory gleam in his eyes. "Is that how you see me? As prey?” I didn’t know if I wanted to know the answer to this question in all honesty.
“More like we see you as something we want to devour.” Marcus chuckles darkly, making the hairs on my body stand on end. I stare at Marcus, unsure how to respond to my comment. Part of me wants to argue, to insist that I’ll never let that happen… But another part, a part I’ve been desperately trying to ignore, feels a strange thrill at his words.
"I don't understand," I say softly, setting the now-empty bowl aside. "How can you be so certain I'll accept all of this? That I'll ever want to be part of... whatever this is?"
Marcus's lips curve into a knowing smile. "Because we see the potential in you, Victoria. I know you’ve heard this from more than me…. The strength, the adaptability, and you've shown more resilience than most. And because, deep down, I think you're curious. Drawn to the darkness we represent, even as you try to deny it.
I swallow hard, unable to form words to respond to Marcus. His assessment hits uncomfortably close to home. As much as I want to deny it, there’s a part of me that’s intrigued by their intensity, by the darkness they embody. But that doesn't mean I want to become like them.
"You're wrong," I finally manage to eke out. "I'm not drawn to this. I don't want any part of it." I know I’m lying to myself, and by the look on his face, Marcus can see right through me.
Marcus's smile widens, a knowing glint in his eyes. "Are you trying to convince me, or yourself?" Raising his hand, he uses his fingers to gently trace my jawline. I suck in a sharp breath at the contact but don't pull away, frozen in place by the intensity of his gaze.
"It's okay to be scared," he murmurs, his voice surprisingly gentle. "Change is always frightening. But you'll come to love us and this family eventually.”
I feel my breath catch at Marcus's words and gentle touch. His confidence that I’d come to love them and their twisted family both terrifies and intrigues me in equal measure. I hate how my body reacts to his proximity, how part of me wants to lean into his touch even as my mind screams at me to pull away.
"I don't want to love you," I whisper, my voice is barely audible. "Any of you. How could I ever love people who've done this to me?"
Marcus's eyes soften slightly, though the predatory gleam remains. "Love comes in many forms, Victoria. Sometimes it grows from adversity, and from shared experiences." His thumb brushing over my lower lip, makes me shiver. "And sometimes, it's born from the realization that you've found where you truly belong."
Shaking my head, I’m trying to clear the fog that seems to be settling over my mind. "This isn't where I belong. This isn't who I am. I won’t feel anything for any of you."
Marcus's smile turns predatory, his eyes darkening as he moves closer. "You will, little one." His thumb brushes across my lower lip, sending a shiver through me. "It's only a matter of time."
I shook my head, trying to clear the fog that seemed to be settling over my mind even as I felt his hand move from my lips to go back to cup my cheek, his touch gentle and lingering.
"Love and hate are two sides of the same coin, Victoria. We'll show you a kind of love you've never known before. Intense and all-consuming. We'll worship every inch of you, make you feel things you never thought possible."
I’m trying desperately to ignore the way my body responds to his touch and his intense gaze. His promise of all-consuming love and worship is both terrifying and alluring. I hate how part of me wants to believe him, to give in to the dark passion I see in his eyes.
"That's not love," I whisper, my voice shaking slightly. "Love doesn't involve kidnapping and torture. It doesn't force someone to change who they are."
Marcus's thumb gently strokes my cheek, his eyes never leaving mine. "Oh, but it does change you, Victoria. True love transforms you and makes you into something more than you were before."
"That's not love. It's... it's Stockholm syndrome or something." I whisper, trying to convince myself as much that I can never feel such things for these men.
Marcus's lips curved into a knowing smile. "Is it? Or is it simply recognizing your true nature, the part of yourself you've been denying all this time?" His hand paused before he let it fall to his side, and he looked at me with his dark eyes. “We see you, Victoria. The real you, beneath all the societal constraints and moral hang-ups."
Still attempting to clear the fog that’s settling over my mind, I hear similar things every time I try to fight them about my being here and my morals. I don’t see things like them, and I don’t know if I want to ever see the world like them.
“I can see that you need to have some time to think things over, but don’t get into your head too much.” Marcus pulls back, grabbing the bowl as he stands up and faces me.
“I can tell your mind is going a mile a minute. Relax and get some sleep. We’re trying to get the test done tomorrow…but there has been a…complication. Once that is figured out things can continue.” Marcus informs me, giving me another grin at the lost look I probably have on my face.
Complication?” I don’t know what in the hell that could mean. What could have happened to make them feel inconvenienced? My curiosity is definitely showing as I hear a light laugh.
“Nothing for you to worry about. For now, sleep. I’m sure someone will bring you breakfast bright and early.” He then gives me a small wink before leaving me alone in the room with my thoughts and curiosity.