Sleep didn't come easy.
Not that Naya expected it to. Her body was bone-weary, her stomach hollow, her eyes dry and burning… but her mind wouldn't stop moving.
The tray of food sat untouched by the window, growing cold. She didn't trust it. She didn't trust him.
Kael had said she wasn't a prisoner. But there were too many bars in his voice when he spoke.
She curled up on the edge of the bed — not under the covers, just on top of the stiff, unfamiliar linen. Her arms wrapped around her knees like armor. A habit. A shield. A way to feel small enough to disappear.
The fire crackled softly across the room.
Celeste's photo still sat on the mantel.
She closed her eyes and tried to breathe.
But her thoughts spun in circles.
Why was the photo there? What had Kael meant when he said she'd "do"? And why did he smile when she looked at the key?
She didn't believe in coincidence. Not anymore. Not in a world where people like her were bought and sold, locked and scarred, taught to sleep with one eye open.
Nothing was ever just a coincidence.
Somewhere past midnight, she sat up and swung her legs off the bed.
She couldn't wait.
She couldn't just exist in this place.
She had to know more.
⸻
She tiptoed across the room, her bare feet making no sound on the rug. The door handle was cold in her palm, but it turned easily.
Unlocked again.
He wanted her to roam.
Or thought she wouldn't dare.
She slipped into the hallway.
The estate was silent — deathly so. Dim lights glowed from sconces on the wall, casting golden shadows. Naya moved like a ghost, every step deliberate, her breath barely audible.
She didn't know what she was looking for. Answers, maybe. A crack in the story. A hidden door. Something that told her who Kael really was… and why she was really here.
The east wing had more rooms. She passed them slowly, her fingers brushing each doorknob. Locked. Locked. Locked.
Until one opened.
The moment the door clicked, a chill ran through her.
This room was different.
Colder. Bare. No warmth, no luxury. Just a single metal bedframe in the center, an empty desk, and a steel chair bolted to the floor.
The smell of old blood clung to the air — faint, but enough to make her stomach turn.
She backed away, breath catching in her throat.
Before she could close the door again, she noticed it — a small mark etched into the corner of the wooden desk.
A symbol.
She stepped closer. It looked like a crescent moon, crossed by three lines. She'd seen it before… somewhere in one of the compounds. Branded into a girl's shoulder. She was gone within a week.
Naya's pulse thudded.
What did this symbol mean?
She turned—
And nearly screamed.
Kael stood in the doorway.
No sound. No warning. Just there.
She stumbled backward, chest heaving. His face was unreadable in the low light.
"You're not a prisoner," he said, voice low and even. "But you're trespassing."
She clenched her fists. "You left the door open."
"I wanted to see how long it would take before your curiosity got the better of you."
She didn't answer.
"You made it four hours," he added, almost like he was impressed. "Most don't last two."
Naya glanced back at the symbol, then at him. "What is this place?"
"Why do you care?" he asked softly. "You're not here to understand me. You're here to survive me."
Her jaw tightened.
"I know what you're doing," he continued. "The way you look at the key. The way you count steps. You think you're planning an escape. You think you're smarter than the ones before you."
She didn't flinch, even though his words sliced like knives.
"I've had girls like you," he said. "Silent. Careful. Brave when no one's watching. And every single one of them broke eventually."
His voice dropped lower, more dangerous now.
"What makes you think you're different?"
She stared at him, throat tight, heart pounding.
Then, for the first time, she spoke clearly.
"I'm not trying to escape."
His brows lifted slightly.
"I'm trying to find out what you're hiding."
The silence stretched.
And then, to her surprise, he smiled. Slowly. Darkly.
"Then maybe I'll stop hiding it."
He stepped aside from the door and gestured to the hallway.
"Come. I want to show you something."
Naya didn't move.
"Now," he added, and his voice cracked like thunder.
⸻
She stepped out of the room, past the blood, past the cold, and followed the man who owned her… deeper into the dark.