Page 16 of Scavenger's Oath
But I still get nothing from her. Not even a flinch.God, she's stubborn.
Pulling my arm back from between the bars, I crouch instead, resting my elbows on my knees for balance.
“You know...” I say slowly, turning the can of fruit in my hand. “You look like you're waiting for me to rip you apart.”
Her fingers twitch tighter around the blanket. My eyes catch the movement and spark something primal in me.
“I could, you know. If I wanted to. No one’s stopping me.”
Her breath hitches. And fuck, it gives me chills.
“But I won't,” I add in a casual tone. “Not unless you make me.” Leaning closer to the bars, I lower my voice as if we're sharing secrets. “See, I'm not here to hurt you. I'm the nice one.”
Giving her a crooked grin, I settle back on my heels, tapping the spoon against the bars like I have all the time in theworld. “You’re lucky it was me that found you and not someone else. You think I dragged you here just to bleed you dry? Nah. I just like... pretty things.”
I let the words settle in the air between us, but she stays silent and frozen.
“You think I'm the bad guy,” I murmur, more to myself. “Maybe I am. But you’ll learn to love me.”
Looking over her tiny frame, my annoyance over the blanket builds again. It’s hiding her body from me.
“See, the way I see it? Isavedyou. It's real dangerous out there, and you had nothing but a rusty little knife on you. Not even a jacket to protect you from the cold. Well, I can protect you. I'll find you new clothes if you're a good girl. Hell, I'll even feed you something that doesn't come from a can if you ask real nice.”
A smirk tugs at my lips. Goddamn, I'd love to see her asking real nice... on her knees… begging me.
Tossing the canned fruit and the spoon into her cell, I rise to my feet again. She flinches at the noise and my sudden movement and a smile creeps onto my face.
“You gonna grab it? Or do I have to come in there and make sure you eat something?”
My patience is growing thin already. I wanna see her do something. All she's doing is sitting there trembling, watching me. She won’t even speak to me.
I want to hear her voice. Just once. Just to prove I’m real to her—that she’s actually here with me and not trying to block me out.
She’s fed now. I should leave. Door’s locked. She’s safe. That should be enough.
But I don’t. Standing there, my hands braced on the bars, I watch her. My little doe, frozen and wide-eyed in the corner.
I’m burning for her. Every inch of me. It’s a sick kind ofhunger, crawling under my skin, gnawing at my gut.
Fuck it.
Unlocking the door quietly, I move like I’m slipping into a secret. She doesn’t move when I step inside—just flinches when the cell door squeals shut again.
I don’t bother locking it this time. Don’t need to. She’s not going anywhere. I’ve seen how she looks at the hallway. As if it’s a monster’s throat and she’s in it’s jaws.
Crouching close, my breath fans across her face, hot and hungry. She smells like fear, and I fucking drink it in.
“It’s alright, little doe,” I murmur, reaching out again, bolder now.
Stroking down her cheek, along her jaw, the curve of her throat. My hand lingers there, thumb brushing the pulse thumping just beneath the skin.
Her heart’s racing.Like mine.
“You’re shaking,” I whisper. “You cold? Or is it all for me?”
She still doesn’t answer. But a thought crosses my mind in the silence.
I wonder if I can make her cry again.
