She stays silent. Her gaze shifts away from me, eyes seeming to glaze over.
 
 My knee brushes her thigh, and she stiffens. But not in a good way.
 
 Still so fucking scared. Why can’t she see I’m trying toprotect her?
 
 I let my palm flatten against the side of her neck, thumb sliding over her fluttering pulse. God, she’s so warm. Fragile. I want to feel it against my lips next.
 
 “You don’t have to be scared,” I murmur, leaning in until my nose brushes her hair, breathing the intoxicating scent of her fear. She smells like a fight. Like prey.My little doe.
 
 “Are you scared?” I whisper, lips brushing the edge of her ear.
 
 Still no response except her staccato breaths.
 
 “Well don’t be,” I snap before reigning myself in again. “You belong to me now. I’m gonna look after you.” I say sweetly. “And in return, you’re gonna be my little plaything. You’ll be begging me to play with you every time I walk through that door.”
 
 She’s not reacting. Not pushing me away, and not pulling me in either. But I know she’s listening, even if she won’t meet my eyes. Just silent and frozen like prey trying to play dead.
 
 It’s starting to fucking piss me off. I want her to do something. Say something. Scream. Cry. Fight me. Look at me. Anything.
 
 She doesn’t. She just stares through me like she’s waiting to wake up from this. Where’s all that fire I saw in her?
 
 I slide my hand down her arm slowly until I reach her hip, squeezing the curve a little. Not too rough. Just firm. Possessive.
 
 My thumb hooks against the waistband of her pants like it has a mind of its own. I’m seconds from crossing a line. But I want to taste her. Feel her.Claimher.
 
 I draw a shaky breath and pull back, standing again, towering over the tiny girl.
 
 She needs more time. And I might hurt her if she fought me…although I would love to see those tears again. A fight would at least be better than this fucking silent treatment. I don’twant her quiet. I want her begging me not to leave.
 
 Trying to keep my cool, I manage a smirk down at her. “You’re not ready yet. But you will be.”
 
 I force myself to step back slowly, locking the cell door behind me again. My heart’s pounding. My cock’s straining against the zipper of my combat pants. My hands are fucking shaking. I need to get out. Now. Before I tear the silence from her lips and make her mine.
 
 “Sleep, little doe,” I mutter over my shoulder. “You’ll need your rest for tomorrow.”
 
 I can’t stop picturing her face as I walk down the hall toward the kitchen. Her pretty blue eyes. The way her pink lips trembled. That subtly sweet scent on her skin.
 
 But a quiet voice in the back of my head won’t shut up.What if I scared her too much?
 
 I rip off my mask and clench it in my fist, the fresh air hitting with a new sense of clarity.
 
 Fuck. I don’t want to hurt her. I just want her to need me. To know that I’m the one who’ll protect her.
 
 Stepping into the kitchen, the overhead light creates a harsh glow on the worn countertops.
 
 Zane nods to me in acknowledgement from his seat on one of the mismatched chairs. He’s stretched out with his ankles crossed, burlap mask sitting on the table next to him.
 
 “Can we keep her, Phoenix?” Zane mocks with a mouthful of deer jerky.
 
 “Don't start.” I grind out, shooting him a glare.
 
 My wrist still throbs where she bit me. The skin’s broken, already scabbing over, but it aches like she branded me. And part of me loves that.
 
 “You gonna share some of that?” I question, eyeing the canvas bag in his hand.
 
 “You gonna share your new toy?” Zane retorts, arching his eyebrow provocatively.
 
 I grit my teeth, ready to defend my new pet, but he throws the bag of jerky my way before I can speak. Brushing his black hair out of his face, it falls back over his forehead—annoyingly handsome without even trying.