Chapter Three
~ Breakfast ~
Kit
I sit curled on the wooden bench tucked into the middle of Lorraine’s favourite flower garden, the one that runs along the quieter side of the estate.
The air smells of damp soil and sweet blooms. My bare feet are cold against the gravel path, my thin robe pulled tight around my pyjamas, but I can’t bring myself to move yet.
The dream is still clinging to me like wet cloth, making my chest feel tight and my stomach churn.
A sudden voice makes me flinch so hard my whole body jolts. “You’re causing a ruckus, kid.”
Armen’s laugh follows right after, warm and easy like we’re old friends. I look up quickly, heart still racing. He stands a few feet away with both hands raised in a placating gesture, a crooked grin on his face. “Whoa… it’s just me.”
He says it like we’re pals or something, like I’m not the boss’s fragile little toy, who isn’t supposed to talk to any of them. I swallow hard and push myself up from the bench on shaky legs, nodding once.
Armen jerks his head toward the main house. “C’mon, boss won’t eat breakfast without you.”
I stand here for a second, then whisper, “Sorry,” and wait for him to lead the way, keeping a careful distance.
He laughs again, amused. “Don’t want to walk next to me?”
I shake my head quickly. “He wouldn’t like it.”
Armen nods, still smiling, but then his expression shifts a little. “Yeah, you’re probably right, but…” He pauses, studying me as we start walking. “I mean, it’s not fair, is it? You’ve been with us two years and you still look like you just got here yesterday.”
My chest feels so heavy it hurts. After that nightmare, it really does feel like I just arrived yesterday… twenty years old, terrified, dragged out of my parents’ house with their blood still warm on the floor. I don’t answer. I just keep my eyes on the path.
Armen continues, voice gentler now. “We aren’t all bad, you know.” He scoffs softly. “He only recruited Aria a year ago and everyone already treats her like a little sister. Yet you, Kit…” He trails off, shaking his head. “We’re not even allowed to speak to you. Why is that?”
I keep my voice small as we reach the main doors. “I don’t know, Armen. I don’t… I don’t even know why I’m here.”
“Have you asked him?”
I shake my head again. “We don’t really… speak.”
Armen barks out a loud laugh, clearly thinking I just mean that Soren and I only have sex, that our “conversations” happen in his bed and nowhere else. He has no idea how scared I still am to form actual sentences around Soren, how every word feels like it might be the wrong one.
I hesitate, then ask quietly, “Can I change?”
“Sorry, bud,” Armen says with a shrug as he pushes the dining room door open. “Boss is restless and needs his antidote… meaning you.”
I frown, the words slipping out before I can stop them, muttered under my breath. “Can’t someone else be his antidote for once…”
Inside, the long table is already loud with the team laughing and shoving food into their mouths like hungry wolves.
Lorraine makes me jump when she suddenly appears at my side, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. Her smile is warm but concerned. “You okay, Kit?”
I whisper back, barely audible, “I’d rather not be here.”
She nods, understanding flickering in her eyes. “I’m going to speak to him today, okay?”
I manage a small nod. “Thanks, Lorraine.”
I really hope she can get some answers out of Soren. She’s the only one who ever seems to be able to talk to him without fear.
I keep my gaze down as I make my way to the head of the table and slip into the chair to Soren’s right.
Thankfully the corner of the table gives me a tiny bit of separation, though it’s not much.
No one’s allowed to sit on my right side, that would be too close.
I lean my face into my hands for a moment, staring at the small, neat portion of food Lorraine has already placed in front of me. She always knows I don’t eat much.
“Thanks, Lorraine,” I murmur.
Soren grunts from beside me, the sound low and displeased. “Lor, what the fuck is that portion?”
Lorraine huffs, wiping her hands on her apron. “Respectfully, Soren, I think I know what’s best for Kit. He doesn’t eat much. I always end up throwing his food away.”
I offer her a small, grateful smile. “It’s fine, thanks.”
Soren ignores me completely, of course. “Lor, this is a child’s portion.”
Everyone at the table has gone quiet now. The sudden silence presses on me. I swallow hard and mumble again, “It’s fine.”
I keep my eyes fixed on the plate, hating every single second of this. Soren doesn’t let it go, he starts to speak again, voice sharpening.
Something inside me finally snaps. I shout before I can think, my voice cracking with frustration and leftover fear from the dream. “Soren, I said it’s fine!”
The words hang in the air like a gunshot. Soren slowly turns his head toward me. I instantly look away, cheeks burning, and shove a reluctant bite of food into my mouth just to have something to do.
I force myself to glance up at the rest of the table and gesture vaguely with my fork. “Carry on.”
I’m praying they’ll all start talking again and stop staring at me like my tiny portion of eggs is the most important thing happening right now. They all look at Soren first. He just grunts, maybe nods too, I don’t dare check, because the conversations slowly pick back up around us. Thankfully.
I don’t miss the small, surprised smiles Armen and Selina send my way from across the table. Lorraine offers a proud little smile and a quick wink from the far end where she’s filling glasses with water.
But now the dread is settling in deep. I know I’ve probably pissed Soren off.
No one speaks to him like that, ever, and yet I just did.
I have no idea what will happen now, what he’ll do once we’re alone, or even later tonight when he decides he wants me again.
My hands tremble slightly as I pick at the food, the dream still fresh behind my eyes…
his tall frame, the cold muzzle of the gun under my chin.
I keep my head down and wish that I could disappear completely.
◆◆◆
I can’t manage even this small child’s portion that Soren had complained about.
Every bite feels like lead in my throat, and after a few reluctant mouthfuls the rest just sits there untouched on the plate.
My hands are still trembling slightly from the outburst I never meant to let slip.
I finally set my cutlery down with a quiet clink, the sound feels far too loud in the space around me.
Soren leans forward on the table. He doesn’t even have to make much effort; with his size and the way he dominates every room he’s in, his face is suddenly right there, close enough that I can feel the warmth of his breath against my ear.
His voice drops low, rough and edged with something I can’t quite read. “That's really all you’re going to eat after shouting at me?”
My stomach drops like a stone. I don’t reply. I just pick the fork back up with numb fingers and stab it into a piece of bacon, forcing myself to lift it toward my mouth even though my appetite is completely gone.
Soren lets out a short, low laugh that sends another shiver down my spine. “I thought you were full.”
I manage the smallest whisper, barely audible even to myself. “I am.”
“Look at me.”
I shake my head quickly, eyes fixed on the plate, curls falling forward to hide my face.
He sighs, the sound heavy and frustrated, but not quite angry in the way I expect. “You’re still that scared that you’ll force yourself to eat if I tell you to?”
The back-and-forth confusion crashes over me all at once. Does he want me to eat or not? Am I supposed to obey or resist? The questions tangle in my head until I can’t breathe properly. It’s too much after the nightmare, after Armen’s unexpected kindness, after daring to raise my voice at him.
I swallow hard, close my eyes for a second, and say in the quietest voice I can manage, “I’m going to get dressed.”
I stand up abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. Before I can take even one step, Soren’s hand shoots out and grabs the belt of my robe, fingers closing around the thin fabric. “Kit…”
The single word is deep, almost a warning, but I don’t stop to think.
I just pull myself free, shrugging out of the robe so quickly that it slips off my shoulders and leaves Soren holding nothing but empty fabric.
I’m left in my long-sleeved pyjamas, feeling even smaller and more exposed as I walk straight out of the dining hall without looking back at anyone.
My bare feet carry me fast down the staff hallway, heart hammering so loudly I can hear it in my ears.
I don’t stop until I reach my bedroom door.
I slip inside, close it behind me, and immediately drag the small desk chair over, bracing it firmly under the handle.
The click of the lock and the added barrier feel like the only safety I have left today.
It’s too much, everything is too much.
I don’t feel in control of myself anymore. I don’t know how to just exist here without constantly guessing what the right move is, what will keep me safe, what will make him look at me without that terrifying intensity. The rules keep shifting and I can’t keep up.
I sink down onto the edge of my bed, pull my knees up to my chest, and wrap my arms around them tightly.
Hot tears prick at the corners of my eyes, but I blink them back hard.
I just want to go home. I want to go back to my parents’ house, to my old room with the textbooks and the quiet evenings, to a life where no one shouted my full name like a command and no one pressed a gun under my chin before deciding to keep me.
But I can never go home again. They’re gone, and this place…
this beautiful, terrifying estate with its gardens and its armed men and its king who keeps me like a pet… is all I have now.
I press my face into my knees and stay here, curled small and shaking, listening for any sound of footsteps in the hallway outside my door.