A heavy weight bombarded my stomach, stopping all hunger and desire to enjoy the rich food.
This was it.
This was the moment that would start my interrogation.
He’d allowed me to feel at ease, he offered me comfort and food, shelter and basic commodities to gain my trust. And now he would snatch it all away and make me pay for every single breath of air I had inhaled in his camp.
I had been a fool to let myself think he actually cared that underneath that warrior cast, there was a soft heart covered by the ruthlessness he had to display.
I felt stupid. So, so stupid.
“Very well,” I said and dropped the bread back on the plate. “Let us have a conversation then.”
Dahr’s brows furrowed for a moment, probably noticing my change in attitude but he did not comment on it. When I saw that his mouth opened to speak, however, I lost all composure and let my own mouth run without having much control over what came next.
“I am not going to help you, so you might as well forget about that. Let us be clear here, Dahr.” I shifted and leaned a bit over the food in what I assumed would be a threatening posture. “There is nothing that you can give me, nothing that you can do, absolutely no universe of this rationale where I don’t see you as my enemy. There is no substantial matter in this world in which there is a reality for us to be anything but enemies. And for me to hate your guts until the end of my life. Be it sudden or lengthy,” I immediately said.
“I will hate you forever. And I will do anything in my power to stand against you and all that you represent. Just like I have already sworn to you. There is nothing that would dissuade my determination, so don’t even try it.”
There.
It was all said.
Now he knew.
Proud of myself and fighting to settle an adrenaline spike, I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned away from him, my back finding the carved bed frame I had spent my last two days tied to and leaned against it.
Dahr’s adamant eyes remained pinned on me through it all, his features trained to not make a single movement that would give away his feelings or thoughts. If this man was even capable of possessing such a thing.
Observing that he wasn’t planning to provide me a harsh reply, I made a point to settle comfortably against the wooden frame and rested my entire body, since it looked like I wouldn’t need to put any more effort into this conversation.
Long seconds dripped in between our gazes, and I even thought that he would stand up and leave at some point. That dark focus dragged along my body, scanning me with intent to the extent where I could practically feel him on my skin.
“I never said I was your enemy, March,” he finally replied, his voice slicing through the silence like the sun does through ice.
I scoffed at the sentence, expecting anything but this.
“First of all, it’s Milenora. Nora for short. I have told you that more times than I care to count. Secondly, what do you expect us to be when you keep me tied up and take me away from my home and everything I know? What did you expect us to be?” I snapped, tired of this back and forth. I wanted to get a reaction out of him, for better or for worse.
I wanted him to finally reveal the information I needed, to tell me exactly why I was here and what he needed from me.
Dahr pressed his lips together once again to maintain that cool composure and hide whatever thoughts or words wanted to escape, irritating my reaction even more.
“I hate you,” I spat and moved to stand again, frustration making me forget that I was tied up to the bed.
What did this man want from me? What did he expect me to do? Be happy that I was barely living, that he was giving me the bare necessities, such as food and shelter? When he took away an entire world I was living in? That was a poor exchange in my book and not one that I would just sit and take.
Of course, my motion was halted by the leather string that kept my wrist trapped and pulled me back, forcing me to fall, this time on my knees. Yet, before I had a chance to recover myself from the motion and the pull, the man leaned over the food and into me to close the distance between us.
Inches separated my skin from his, my sharp breaths landing on his bare chest and his hair tickling my arms as heleaned even further, to where the leather binding was caught onto the bed. His hand touched the strap and, just like he did with the metal shackle, it broke the binding in two. Letting my arm fall free for a second time in a row.
He performed the gesture without paying attention to my reaction and moved back with the same stillness, to crouch on the fur-made carpeted floor.
“If it is your wish to be untied then so be it,” he spoke slowly, as though unsure of the action he had just performed.
Not knowing how to react, I maintained my calm, lest there be a sudden change of heart and kept my mouth shut, because in truth, I did not know what to say or how to react.
Was he truly releasing me?
