A few minutes after he left, Juho returned carrying a small dark glass jar in one hand.
The moment the lid twisted open, a sharp herbal scent spread through the room—medicinal, earthy, almost painfully strong. It cut through the stale air of confinement instantly.
Kaija lifted her head from the mattress with visible effort.
She was still lying exactly where Juho had left her, sprawled face down across the bed with the back of her pajama top shoved up past her bruised ribs. Her cheek pressed against the sheets, breaths still uneven from the chokehold he'd used on her minutes earlier.
Her hair clung messily to her face.
"Hey," she muttered suspiciously, eyeing the jar from over her shoulder. "What the hell is that? Balm?"
"This will help your wounds," Juho replied calmly. "Now stay still and let me do my part."
'Do my part?'
Kaija almost scoffed.
As if any of this would have happened if he hadn't dragged her into this lunatic mansion in the first place.
