Page 42 of A Hunger Soft and Wild

I shouldn’t press. We don’t press. But the question slips out before I can stop it. Ineedto know. I don’t know why, only that I do.

Roan hesitates. Her jaw ticks. “Mostly.”

The word sinks like a stone in my chest.

Mostly.

I nod like it doesn’t mean anything. Like the air between us doesn’t feel thinner now. Like the answer didn’t crack something small and stupid in me.

Roan leans forward, elbows on her knees. “Selis is a parasite,” she says softly. “She finds people, uses them until they’re no good to her anymore, and moves on.”

“And you?” I ask quietly.

Her lips press into a thin line. “I was no exception.”

There’s something hollow in her voice, a bitterness that feels old and worn. Her hand shifts toward her sword hilt, thumb moving absently over the worn leather, as if grounding herself in the weight of it.

I sit still for a moment, pulse quickening, then I shift closer before I can talk myself out of it. Close enough that our shoulders almost touch.

“Whatever Selis did to you,” I murmur, “you didn’t deserve it.”

Roan turns slightly, glancing at me. Her expression flickers, unreadable. “How would you know?”

I hesitate. My heart feels too loud in my chest. “Because I saw how she looked at you,” I say. “Like she wanted to remind you you belonged to her. And I saw the way you looked back… like you were trying not to flinch.”

I swallow, the words thick and unfamiliar in my mouth, but I say them anyway. “You don’t deserve that. Not from her. Not from anyone.”

Roan doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak. But I can feel the shift in her—like the silence has settled deeper, heavier.

I press on, quieter now. “You helped me.Savedme. Even when you didn’t have to. And maybe you don’t think it matters, but it does. It matters to me.”

Her breath hitches, just slightly.

“You only deserve good things, Roan,” I whisper. “And she isn’t one of them.”

Her jaw tightens, like she’s fighting some response she won’t let out. She still won’t meet my eyes, but her hand has stilled on her sword hilt.

My chest tightens.

“I know I can’t fix any of that. I can’t undo what she did to you, but I wish I could.” I glance down at my hands, fists curled in my lap. “And I wish I could redo last night…"

Roan shifts beside me, her voice low. “Yeah?” Her tone is casual, but she finally looks at me. “What would you have done?”

I lift my head slowly, meeting her gaze. “I would’ve told her off.”

The answer comes out before I can really think it through, but it’s true—undeniably, viscerally true. Selis stirred something hot and raw beneath my skin. Something I can’t name yet.

“I would’ve told her exactly what I thought of her,” I add, heat rising to my cheeks, but not from shame. “That she doesn’t get to look at you like you’re something she owns. That she doesn’t get to talk to me like I’m some fragile thing she can twist around for fun.”

There’s a beat of stunned silence. Then Roan huffs a laugh, a real one—warm, surprised. She shakes her head, the smirk curling at the edge of her mouth softening into something more fond than mocking.

“I’d have liked to see that,” she murmurs. “My little mouse, all fierce and ready to bite."

My little mouse.

Hers.

The words and the warmth in her voice makes my stomach flutter in a way I’m not prepared for.

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