Bowing, the staff retreated, leaving Elder and me to stare silently at each other.

Neither of us reached for a spoon, not prepared to be the one who looked away first. Slowly, Elder reached for his glass, raising the glittering crystal to take a sip. His powerful neck rippled as he swallowed then cocked his head, studying me harder.

“Something’s different about you.”

I stilled.

Was I not permitted to change?

I didn’t even understand what had changed. I just felt…off. Not myself. If I couldn’t describe it, how could Elder already see it?

Depositing his glass, he rubbed his jaw. The five o’clock shadow was darker, as if he hadn’t shaved since the day we met over a week ago. “Are you okay? Minus the injuries and your tongue, of course?”

I picked up my spoon.

“I don’t understand it…” He trailed off, copying me as he pinched the delicate silver utensil. “But when you look at me, something’s disappeared.”

Disappeared?

Was that what’d happened? Had my dependency on being abused been deleted? Had my fear vanished?

No, the fear’s still there.

I checked inside for the remnants of the girl who’d been a pet, a possession. I still struggled, but Elder made me brave enough to look at him rather than avoid him.

The fact he let me get away with it encouraged me to be bolder, brazen. Was that what was happening? Had I finally had enough of merely existing and begun the process to claim myself again?

A headache looped around my temples, squeezing with heavy questions.

I don’t know anything anymore.

I’m tired.

I’m lost.

I’m alone.

Even No One can’t help me figure this out.

Angry tears once again tickled my spine. I spindled tighter, a shrapnel detonation just looking for an outlet to explode.

I need…help.

I need time.

I need…

I didn’t know what I needed. But it wasn’t him. It wasn’t this life. It wasn’t even kindness anymore.

I’m past that.

I’m screwed up.

I’m angry. So damn angry.

I wanted to take that anger out on someone. I wanted to rip and tear and scream at what I’d endured and what I’d become.

My breathing escalated until my lungs burned and my entire body trembled. My spoon hovered over the soup (soup I didn’t want because it would add yet more pain), doing my best to stuff down the overwhelming insanity brewing like lava in my blood.

I need to leave.

I need to be alone before I snap.

Gulping back the tsunami of messy rage, I clamped down on my shaking and waited for him to say something—anything—to distract me from my rapidly twitching madness.

But he didn’t.

He merely watched me with that deadly poise—noticing my shaking, my breathing—most likely seeing the fire incinerating my brokenness inside.

“Take it easy. Nothing can hurt you here.”

Wrong!

My eyes shot to his as the lava bubbled and popped.

You can.

And you will.

Stop lying to me.

Tell me what you mean to do with me.

Put me out of my goddamn misery.

Elder stiffened, his body becoming ice-calm. “Whatever you’re thinking, it’s making you upset. I suggest you stop.”

Stop?!

When did that word ever mean anything?

When did Alrik stop?

When did you stop?

When will all of this fucking stop!

A panic attack slithered around my ribcage, waking from its sleep to torment me. The soul-sucking terror licked its way up my throat, squeezing…clawing.

My fingers latched around the spoon. The room etched with darkness as air became a much-needed commodity.

“Pim…stop. Relax.”

I couldn’t relax. Not now. Not now the itchy panic had multiplied in size and dribbled into my belly as well as my throat.

I flinched as Elder leaned toward me.

I gasped as he narrowed his eyes.

“Talk to me. Tell me what you’re dealing with.”

My spine shot stiff.

Tell you?

Speak to you?

Why?

You won’t understand.

You won’t help.

Stampeding tears blurred the world, making him dance and jig.

“Okay, if you’re determined not to talk, what do you need? I’ve given you food and clothing. I’ve given you a bed and peace. What more do you fucking want from me?”

His roar hacked through my whirlpool of hysteria, dragging me back from the suffocating clouds.

Pointing at my quaking body, he snarled, “You’re acting as if this is a torture session. It’s not. It’s just dinner. Remember those? When people talk over food and answer questions when asked? Fuck, Pim. Stop looking at me as if I’m him. I’m not fucking him. Got it?!”

My gaze turned sniper sharp. Contorted snowflakes filled the holes left by my panic attack.

Excuse me if I’m not comfortable.

Excuse me if I struggle to see only dinner and not a game to play.

Excuse me if I’m not eloquent and your perfect guest!

Elder rolled his eyes. “While we’re on the topic of normal behaviour, let’s talk about that dress. It’s a goddamn sack on you. You need to eat, and I’ll buy you better fitting clothes. Just because you were a slave doesn’t mean you have to look like one.”

Air hissed through my nose. Snowflakes turned to ice picks, dying to stab him over and over again.