Page 100 of Silenced

Let’s face it, anything could happen in this madhouse.

So, I’m not altogether surprised to find that my period has further changed things when I see Nikolai is still sleeping beside me.

Beforebed last night, he let me put the cup in—scowling all the while—and I know that’s why I woke up.

Sneaking off isn’t as difficult as it should be, not when you’re sharing nine feet of space.

Not wanting him to try to insert another tampon even if he’s willing to negotiate, I shuffle over to the bathroom and do my business.

Of course, when I return, he’s awake, one arm behind his head in a way that makes his bicep bulge, and he’s watching me.

Either he’sthataware of me or my movements did disturb him.

Somehow, from his grumpy expression, I think he’s aware of me.

Again, feeling like I’ve gone down the rabbit hole where a guy this hot is annoyed I changed out of my menstrual cup without his help, I ignore him and clamber back into bed.

He turns onto his side as I do.

Across the mattress’s expanse, we study one another.

Then, he shifts so he can sign, “We’re going outside today.”

Gaping at him, I jerk upright. “Seriously?” I squeak, shuttling over to his half of the bed in excitement. “I thought you’d make me wait a lifetime.”

His mouth quirks at the corners. “Seriously. I’m going to show you around the estate.”

I shriek in glee. “That means I get clothes, right?”

“Of course. No one will ever see you naked again,solnyshko.” The air chokes in my lungs at the ominous words. But he spies the swiftly surging panic by clucking his tongue.

Before he can continue, I rasp, “Let me guess, you’re going to say that I’m safe with you?”

He nods but the smallest of smiles curves his lips and, for some insane reason, that eases my panic some.

Exhaling, I try to recover my earlier excitement and find it didn’t drift too far away. Clothes, a trip out of this goddamn bedroom, and a tour of this massive estate? I just won the lottery!

Of course, he has to spoil it.

Again.

“I can’t wear that,” I exclaim a half-hour later when I stare at the outfit that was laid out on the bed after our shower and the housekeeping fairies made an appearance.

The routine has changed again—no breakfast in the safe room.

Before I saw the clothes he wants me to wear, I was excited about getting to eat in an actual dining room. Now, I almost wish nothing had changed.

His brows lift as he studies the dress on the bed. “What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s small.”

Just looking at it, I know it cost a fortune.

He huffs out a sigh, grabs the plissé-crepe de chine as if it’s cheap polyester, then snags a hold of my arm.

The next thing I know, he’s dragging it over my head and settling it on me.

My cheeks flush when he zips up the side but it fits without pinching.

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