The silence of the room was no longer peaceful; it was a predator, waiting to strike. Elina sat in the dark, her body aching from the electric shock and the ropes, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the roar of confusion in her mind. Why him? Why the man who had once been the sun in her world? The betrayal tasted more bitter than the dust in the air.
She squeezed her eyes shut, a single, hot tear tracing a path through the grime on her cheek. 'I will survive,' she whispered to the shadows, a silent, desperate vow. 'And when I do, I will find him. I will make him bleed for every tear, for every scream.'
The heavy door creaked open, spilling a sliver of light across the floor. A maid, her face pale and eyes averted, shuffled in carrying a tray with a bowl of steaming broth and a cup of water. She placed it on the floor near Elina with trembling hands, her eyes never meeting the prisoner's.
Elina looked at the food. It smelled divine, a cruel mockery of her starvation. But as the maid turned to leave, a sudden, violent surge of pride rose in Elina's throat. She didn't want his mercy. She didn't want his crumbs.
With a guttural cry of defiance, Elina lunged forward as much as her bindings allowed, sweeping her arm across the tray. The bowl shattered, the broth splattering across the floor like a fresh wound, and the water spilled into the thirsty cracks of the stone. The maid gasped, scurrying out of the room in terror.
The silence that followed was different. It was heavy. Lethal.
The door swung open again, much harder this time. Orion entered, his presence instantly swallowing the light. He didn't even look at the mess; his eyes were fixed solely on Elina, burning with a cold, terrifying fury. He knelt beside her, his movements slow and predatory. He picked up a piece of bread from the remnants of the tray, his eyes narrowing.
"Eat," he commanded, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. He tried to press the bread against her lips, his hand unyielding.
Elina clamped her mouth shut, staring him down with eyes that held no fear, only pure, unadulter lidded hatred. She spat at his feet, a small, pathetic gesture of war.
Orion's jaw tightened, a vein pulsing in his temple. He let out a short, dark laugh that didn't reach his eyes. He stood up abruptly, turning to the guards at the door.
"Leave her," he barked, his voice cutting through the air like a whip. "No bread. No water. Let her starve in her pride. Let's see how much defiance she has when her throat is parched and her stomach is screaming."
He turned back to her, leaning down so his face was inches from hers, his shadow engulfing her completely. His voice dropped to a terrifying, intimate whisper.
"Enjoy your hunger, Elina. Because one day soon, you'll be so desperate, you'll be thankful to me for the scraps the rats leave behind."