“So eat. As a whore’s daughter, you must be hungry.”

I have seen what hunger has done to people. They would crawl over dead bodies to eat. If she is truly a whore’s daughter, she must not know what half of these foods taste like. She could be scared, but her hunger would overcome it.

To my delight, she does not pick up a single fork or utensil as her fingers dig into the roast chicken. Her fingers tremble, hunger winning over her as she ravenously pulls off a strip of the meat and eats it. She doesn't even look at me now, her attention focused purely on the meal before her. I watch intently as her eyes squeeze shut and a groan of satisfaction escapes from her lips.

No manners.

No etiquette.

Oh, I think I like my little Red already.

CHAPTER 4

Hali

The captain watches me eat with a look that's unrecognizable—something between disgust and lust, and the way his eyes trace my fingers as they brush my lips while putting food into my mouth makes me think he’s feeling the latter.

I realize I’m eating like a woman starved, but he hasn't left me much of a choice. If I’m to continue the charade of a whore’s daughter, I have to act as though I haven’t had a proper meal, well, ever. It’s not a lie, either. Food had been scarce on Morda.

Juices from the meat slide down my hand, and as much as it pains me, I don’t wipe them off. Instead, I reach for the grapes and bring a cluster to my plate. Pulling one off, I bring it to my lips, slowly biting the fruit in half as I gaze up at the Captain with hooded eyes.

He openly stares at me with a smirk on his lips, his hand still resting on the silver fork beside his plate that he hasn’t picked up.

“When was the last time you’ve eaten?” he probes, his voice softer than it was just moments before.

It’s off putting—the change in his voice. It causes me to pause.

My gaze meets his. Hesitating, I pick up the napkin resting in my lap and wipe my hands. A low rumble in my throat helps me to clear it before I answer, but I’m at a loss for words, surprised and drawing a blank with my lie.

“A while,” I answer tentatively, hoping my vagueness will be enough.

He says nothing and simply studies me. It intensifies my discomfort.

Squirming under the weight of his gaze, I place the napkin, and my hands, in my lap.

“Well. Go on then,” he says after another few moments, tipping his chin toward me. “Eat, Red.”

I’m hesitant to return to the food, but this time when I take a bite, he picks up his fork and takes one too. We eat in silence, but I feel his eyes on me the entire time. It’s like he’s waiting for something, and I wonder what.

“So, Captain,” I say once my plate is clean and my belly is full. “Why did you request my company for dinner?”

“It was not a request.”

“You didn’t have to feed me to get what you eventually want…”

It’s bold to probe him like this, but the wine the captain has plied me with has gone to my head a little.

My breath hitches when I visibly see his demeanor switch from curious to captivated. His eyes darken, the smirk on his face deepening as he leans forward. His middle and pointer fingers run tantalizingly over the grooves of the crystal tumbler housing the remaining drops of his whiskey.

Something about the movement forces me to squeeze my legs together, igniting an ache in my core. His confidence is hard to ignore. There’s nothing courteous or gentlemanly about the way he stares at me, but, stranger than that, there’s nothing perverse about it, either.

Suddenly, the Captain stands, placing a palm on the table between us as he leans forward. His other hand reaches to my face, and he grasps my chin between his fingers, tilting my head back.

“Call it curiosity,” he muses, staring deep into my eyes.

My heart skips, and with it, my thoughts are instantly pulled to Kai.

By whatever means necessary, his voice echoes through my mind. But he doesn’t know what the Captain is like. What this is like. Intimate and strange…I expected a rougher touch than this.