Chapter 13 chapter 13
You will do as I say,” he went on, his voice controlled again, but colder now. “Or you will learn what happens when you don’t.” A chill ran down my spine.
He turned toward the door, as if the conversation had ended the moment I pushed too far.
“You will not leave this room,” he added, reaching for the handle.
The door opened slightly, cold air slipping in.
“And little hunter…” he said, pausing just enough to make me look at him, “do not mistake my restraint for patience.”
Then he stepped out.
The door shut behind him with a heavy sound, the lock clicking into place with a final echo that settled deep in my chest.
I stood there, staring at the door long after he was gone.
Then slowly, my gaze moved back to the clothes on the bed, and the question that still refused to leave my mind.
What had I been brought into?
The sound of the lock clicking into place lingered in the room long after he was gone, echoing through the stone walls before settling into a heavy silence. I stood there for a moment, unmoving, my eyes fixed on the door as if I expected it to open again, as if he might step back inside without warning.
But he didn’t.
The silence remained.
Slowly, my gaze shifted back to the clothes he had left on the bed. They looked out of place in a room like this, too clean, too carefully chosen, like they had been brought here for a reason rather than just found and thrown aside. I hesitated, my arms still crossed tightly over myself, suspicion sitting heavy in my chest.
Nothing about this made sense.
He had dragged me here like I was nothing, chained me to a bed, and now he expected me to wear what he gave me and eat the food he left behind, as if I was supposed to simply accept it.
My jaw tightened.
“I’m not yours,” I muttered quietly, though there was no one there to hear it.
Still, the words felt hollow in the empty room.
The cold air from the balcony brushed against my skin again, pulling my attention away. My eyes drifted toward it for a moment, toward the open space and the false sense of freedom it offered, before I forced myself to look back at the bed... at the clothes.
Slowly, I stepped closer.
The fabric looked thick and warm, far better than anything I owned. I reached out cautiously, half-expecting something to happen the moment I touched it, but nothing did. My fingers brushed against the material, and I paused, surprised by how soft it felt beneath my skin.
Carefully, I lifted it.
It was not just a simple piece of clothing.
It was a dress.
A long one, made from a deep, muted blue fabric that seemed almost grey in the dim light of the room. The material was heavy, clearly made to keep warmth in, yet it was soft, far softer than the rough, worn clothes I was used to. The sleeves were long and fitted, narrowing at the wrists, and the bodice was structured enough to hold its shape without being stiff. It laced up the front, simple but secure, the ties already loosened as if someone had prepared it to be worn easily.
The skirt fell in layers, not overly wide, but enough to allow movement, the fabric thick enough to protect against the cold without being too heavy to walk in. Along the edges, there were faint traces of stitching in a slightly darker thread, simple patterns that had likely once been more noticeable before time dulled them.
It wasn’t new, but it wasn’t worn out either.
It felt… cared for.
That was what unsettled me the most.
This wasn’t something thrown together.
This was chosen.
My grip tightened slightly around the fabric as I looked down at what I was wearing—my clothes were torn in places, stiff from dirt and use, offering little protection against the cold anymore.
I didn’t like this.
Didn’t like needing anything from him.
But I needed to stay alive.
And staying alive meant making choices I didn’t like.
I set the dress back down on the bed slowly, my thoughts still turning, still trying to make sense of everything. My eyes drifted to the tray of food, and my stomach tightened painfully at the sight of it.
Hunger didn’t care about pride.
I reached for the bread again, forcing myself to take a smaller bite this time, chewing slowly as I swallowed carefully, wincing slightly as the movement pulled at my ribs. I reached for the water, taking a small sip before setting it back down, my gaze lifting toward the door once more.
Still closed.
Still locked.
Still separating me from whatever waited outside.
My fingers tightened slightly around the bread as his words echoed in my mind.
You will not make it far.
There are things in this place that will not hesitate.
A chill ran through me that had nothing to do with the cold.
I set the food down slowly and reached for the dress again, lifting it once more as I stared at it.
“I’ll find a way,” I whispered under my breath, the words quiet but firm.
Because I had to.
No matter what waited beyond that door, I wasn’t staying here, not without a fight.
I glanced at the dress once more before looking down at my torn shirt, the fabric hanging loose where his claws had ripped through it. I wouldn’t have needed new clothes if that beast hadn’t destroyed the only decent thing I had left. The thought stirred something sharp in my chest, and the word slipped out before I could stop it. “Prick.” I huffed in frustration as I reached for the dress again, my fingers brushing over the thick, soft fabric. If I had to admit it, it was beautiful. Simple, but warm, far better than anything I owned. The cold alone was enough to make the decision for me.
Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to try it on.
But I wasn’t careless.
I would keep my pants on. If a chance came, even the smallest one, I needed to be able to run.
My eyes moved across the room, searching for some place to dress, some corner that offered even a little bit of cover. The chamber was too open, too exposed, and knowing how easily he seemed to appear without warning made my skin prickle.
I turned slightly away from the door, putting as much of my back toward the room as I could, and quickly pulled my torn shirt over my head. The cold air hit my skin instantly, making me suck in a sharp breath as it brushed over the bruises along my ribs and side.
I didn’t waste time.