Chapter 4
LOCKING OUT EMOTION
Itried to wait for him to break the tension first, but when I finally hit my limit on standing there squirming under his intense gaze, I finally cracked.
Then I made the mistake of stepping past him as I moved toward the fridge.
That massive shoulder turned slightly, his head following in a questioning way before his voice cut through the quiet.
“What are you doing?” he bit out.
I froze, my hand hovering over the door handle.
“I was just seeing if you had any water,” I said, trying to sound casual, though my voice trembled slightly.
“Is the water from the tap not good enough for you, your majesty?” he bit out, the sarcasm dripping from every word. My mouth fell open. Like literally dropped. The sheer audacity of it had me blinking at him before something reckless in me snapped.
“I’ve been to exactly two places in my life,” I shot back.
“New York, and the miserable house where I was born to the crappy people who unfortunately brought me into the world. I don’t own a passport, and I’ve never even seen a plane in real life, let alone been on one.
Yet even I know there are places where drinking water doesn’t come from a tap, it comes from a bottle.
So, excuse me for not wanting to take the chance.
It’s not like you left me with a bell or a way to contact you to ask. ”
He jerked slightly, as if surprised I’d dared to speak to him that way.
For a moment, he just stared, his eyes narrowing faintly.
I quickly got the distinct impression he wasn’t used to people talking back.
Maybe no one ever had. The look on his face was almost comical, caught somewhere between disbelief and irritation, like he couldn’t decide whether to laugh or to kill me.
His hand twitched at his side, and I noticed the faint clench of his fist, the movement tight and deliberate, as if he was restraining himself.
Whatever instinct burned behind that dark gaze of his, he didn’t act on it.
I found myself quietly grateful for that much restraint, as my face had already endured enough damage for one night.
“The water is fine to drink,” he said finally, his voice sharp but weary, as though every word cost him patience.
“But since you’re already here, there are bottles in the fridge. Take what you want.”
It was the kind of response I might have imagined him saying in some period drama. Forced polite words said through gritted teeth. I half expected him to add the word vexing or alas just to complete the picture.
“Thanks,” I muttered, tugging the fridge open. The light spilled out in a sudden glow, momentarily blinding me, and not just because of the brightness. The shelves were filled, stocked with food that looked far too fresh for a place this old.
“There’s enough food in here to feed an army,” I said, glancing back at him.
“Or were you planning a welcome banquet for me?” I teased, forgetting for a minute who I was talking to. That earned another of his low, rumbling sounds, part annoyance, part amusement.
“I heard mortals enjoy food. Some even say it’s a necessity. I call it a weakness,” he said.
“But I intend to keep you alive long enough for my purpose, so I went to the liberty of obtaining that food.” I turned, raising my eyebrow.
“You don’t eat?”
He smiled at me then, a slow, dangerous thing that tugged at the corner of his mouth. It wasn’t warm or kind. It was the sort of smile that promised enough potential danger to make my stomach twist.
“I eat,” he said softly, his voice a dark purr.
“Just sometimes not the same things you do.” I swallowed hard, my heart hammering faster than I wanted to admit.
“Let me guess,” I said, before I could stop myself,
“Unruly little mortal prisoners you like to call dinner?” He tilted his head, that faint grin widening.
“Actually, no…scrap that. Let me guess again…rabbit?” I corrected myself nervously.
This time, his grin changed. It wasn’t cruel or mocking.
It was real. It transformed him entirely, making him look human for the briefest of moments.
Like the ghost of the man he might have been before the darkness.
And God help me, that was far more terrifying than his fangs ever could be.
To call him handsome would have been an insult, as there needed to be a stronger word for it.
“Aren’t you going to take some, after all, that was your purpose for not heeding my words,” he said, nodding to the pill bottle I still had hold of. One I turned over in my hand, frowning at the unfamiliar name.
“Well, at least I know you’re not trying to poison me, though if you keep finding me snooping around your house, I imagine you’ll be tempted,” I muttered, trying to gauge his true feelings on this and whether or not he actually expected me to stay in that room for the remainder of my imprisonment.
“I may be,” he replied coolly.
“Although I’d hardly call it snooping,” I said, defensive now as I backtracked on my own wording.
“I came down to the exact place you brought me into. You didn’t find me digging through your family jewels or looking for a knife…although, honestly, that might’ve been the smart thing to do.”
He scoffed, the sound was low and rough.
“Little good it would have done you. But feel free to take the largest one here, if it helps you sleep better at night.” He mocked.
“Or I could just lock my door,” I pointed out.
“Yes, and little good it would do you if I wanted to get inside,” he said smoothly. And well, he had a point, one that sent a cold shiver down my spine.
“For the record,” I said, forcing lightness into my tone,
“The only reason I came down here was for water and painkillers.” I then held both up as proof of my victory.
“Mission accomplished.”
“I think you’ll find I had a hand in that,” he replied, his lips twitching into something dangerously close to a smirk.
“Regrettably, yes,” I said, and that smirk grew just enough to make my heart stutter. For the briefest moment, I could swear he was enjoying this. This strange, fragile banter that had slipped between us like a truce neither of us had agreed to.
“Then I suggest you take them,” he said, his tone cooling again.
“And be back off to bed.”
“Very well,” I said, half mocking.
“But just so you know, fumbling around in the dark? Not so much fun. So, if you hear a big bang, a thud, a groan, and then silence, it’s just me falling down your massive staircase and cracking my head open.
Oh, and FYI, we humans can make quite a mess, very squishy.
I’d hate to ruin your fancy floors or priceless heirlooms.” I teased and yep, it was another mission accomplished as he not only grinned, but he also made an amused sound.
One that was almost a laugh, deep and involuntary.
Although then he scowled as if annoyed with himself for finding me amusing.
His face hardened again, the humor vanishing as quickly as it had come. He slammed the cupboard door shut and straightened to his full, towering height.
“Then I suppose, I’d better put my prisoner back to bed,” he said, extending an arm toward the door as a hint to get my ass moving. I walked past him, close enough to feel the brush of air from his movement, and he leaned down slightly.
“For I would hate for you to make a mess on my expensive floors.” He hummed in a knowing tone, but instead of being intimidated, I straightened my back and smirked back up at him.
“Well, we do tend to stain.” Then I winked at him, making him look shocked for a moment before he chuckled. That deep, rumbling sound that resonated somewhere in his large chest. It was warm and rich, and for the first time since meeting him, I felt something unexpected…a connection.
He led me back toward my room, our footsteps the only sound in the vast corridor.
And like before, every so often, when I drifted too close to the wall, his hand would reach out for me.
His fingers curling gently around my hip to guide me back to the centre of the hall.
The touch was firm and slightly possessive.
Also protective in a way that unsettled me far more than his earlier cruelty.
“You know,” I said softly, glancing at the unlit sconces,
“I hear electricity is a wonderful thing. Modern marvel and all that. Comes in handy when it’s dark.” I teased, knowing the place had electricity, which was why I wondered what the need was for candles as well.
“Why would I do that, when it would give you an advantage if you tried to escape?” he replied, and I let out a small laugh.
“Ah, well, lucky for you, I am not stupid and fully realize that I’m in a foreign country.
And seeing as we have already established that I have never been anywhere in my life, I don’t think I would get far out there on my own.
Hell, I would most likely get lost in this big house of yours.
Which means if I ever did find my way out, I’m pretty sure I’d end up eaten by wolves.
” He laughed then, an honest, startled sound that caught me off guard.
“What?” I asked, smiling despite myself.
“Nothing,” he said, still faintly amused.
“Nothing at all.” I wanted to press, but something about him warned me not to. His amusement faded, replaced by that cool, unreadable calm. Soon, we reached my door, one he opened for me, now stepping close enough that I had to tilt my head back just to keep his gaze.
“Thank you for the water. And the painkillers.” I said quietly.
“Tell me something,” he said, his voice lowering as he studied me.
“Are you always this grateful to your captors?”
“What can I say?” I shrugged lightly.
“I’m polite.”
“I don’t think that’s it,” he murmured.
“You don’t think I’m polite?” I questioned with a raised brow.
“I’m sure you can be,” he said, his tone thoughtful now, almost curious.
“But that’s not what this is.”
“Then what do you find strange exactly?” I asked, but he didn’t answer right away. Instead, his expression hardened, as though irritated by his own hesitation. Then he said,
“Just stop thanking me for things.”
“Er…Okay,” I said, confused.
He stepped closer, closing the distance between us until I had to take a step back. His presence filled the space, dark and unyielding.
“Let’s get one thing straight,” he started firmly.
“I am not your friend. I never will be. So, this, whatever game you’re playing, whether you’re trying to soften me, to make me feel something, to lure me into lowering my guard…it won’t work.” I opened my mouth to argue, but one sharp look from him silenced me.
“The reason you’re here is for one purpose and one purpose only,” he said before getting even closer and delivering the final blow,
“One goal, little rabbit. You are a means to an end, and you will never be anything more…now, do you understand?” I swallowed hard, forcing down the strange sting of hurt that came with his words.
“I asked you a question.” He stated firmly when I didn’t reply.
“Yes, I understand. Now, can I ask a question?” he rolled his eyes at this and muttered,
“Fine but be quick about it.”
“So, this goal…” I asked softly,
“…Does it end with me dead or alive?”
For the first time, something flickered across his face. The tiniest flinch. If I hadn’t been so close, I might have missed it. But he masked it quickly, stepping even closer until his breath brushed my cheek.
“Either way…I don’t care,” he said, his voice low and cutting. I swallowed hard, asking myself why I cared so much about how those harsh words now made me feel.
He straightened then, retreating just enough to open the door wider.
“Now you have everything you need. I suggest you don’t leave this room again until I require it.”
He paused, looking at me one last time, and there was something almost human in the stillness that followed.
“Good night, Vanessa,” he said.
“Oh…
“…and feel free to lock your door.”