KAIRA.
The smell of antiseptic was the first thing that brought me back.
I woke up to pains that had settled deep into my bones.
My back burned, my ribs ached, even blinking felt like work.
For a moment, I stayed still, staring at the silk curtains hanging from the massive windows, then I tried to move but the pain shot up more, pinning me down to the bed.
I hissed through my teeth, my fingers clutching the silk sheets.
“Stay still, Miss Voss,” the voice startled me.
I turned sharply and winced.
A man in white coat.
He would be in his late fifties.
He sat beside the bed, with a black leather medical bag open beside him.
A doctor.
Wonderful.
The devil apparently believed in healthcare.
He adjusted his gloves and looked at me like I was a difficult patient and not a kidnapped woman recovering from torture.
“You are lucky,” he said.
“None of the lashes cut too deep.
You’ll heal.”
“How comforting,” I muttered.
He ignored the sarcasm and continued applying ointment to the bruises on my shoulder.
I bit the inside of my cheek to stop myself from reacting.
The door clicked open.
I didn’t need to look to know who it was.
The air in the room suddenly felt pressurized.
Halston walked to the side of the bed, his shadow falling over me.
His presence was infuriating.
His gaze met mine before meeting that of the doctor’s.
“How is our patient?” he asked, voice smooth.
The doctor stood slightly straighter.
“She’ll live.”
“Disappointing,” I said dryly.
Halston smirked.
His gaze moved as the doctor adjusted the back of my shirt to treat another bruise.
Then I saw a flicker in his expression, his eyes lingered on my older scars, the thin white lines across my back, faded marks that had lived there long enough.
Training scars, defensive scars.
His narrowed, telling tales of curiosity.
I hated that he noticed it.
I pulled the fabric back into place and looked at him coldly.
“Don’t think for a second that I’m grateful because you called a doctor,” I spat, my eyes burning with a hatred that felt like the only thing keeping me alive.
His gaze snapped back to mine.
He leaned against the dresser, arms folded.
“I wasn’t expecting gratitude.”
“Good.” I glared at him then turned away.
His smile deepened.
“Still,” he said, “I’d like us to have a proper conversation after this.”
My gaze turned back to his.
“We’ve had conversations.
Usually while you’re threatening my life.”
“Yes,” he said.
“And yet I feel we’re just getting acquainted.”
He pushed himself off the dresser.
“Rest.
We can have a conversation when you can stand without trembling.” He turned to leave and then briefly turned back.
“And try not to stab the doctor.” He smirked over his shoulder and left.
The doctor finished, handed me a bottle of heavy-duty painkillers.
I dropped it on the bedside table.
“I suggest,” he said carefully, handing me a small packet of medication, “that you avoid provoking him.”
I looked at the pills in my hand.
“I suggest,” I replied, “that you stop working for psychopaths.”
He gave me a disappointed look, packed his bags and left.
When I finally could move, I forced myself up.
Every muscle protested, but I dressed in the simple black clothes that had been left for me.
Apparently, the room had been prepared for me long before I arrived.
I headed downstairs and found Halston in the grand hall, watching his right-hand man walking the doctor out.
The guards around looked surprised.
Halston turned when he noticed me, he too seemed surprised.
I could see the slight lift of his brow.
“You’re walking,” he said.
“To your disappointment.” I replied.
He smiled, the look on his face showed he was almost amused.
“You wanted to have a conversation, let’s have it.” I walked past him, and headed for the couch in the living room.
He followed behind me.
“I am assuming you have questions.” He said as he lazily sat down.
“I’d do my best to ans…”
I had not let him finish before I threw in my first question.
“Why haven’t you killed me?
You killed my parents.
You killed that maid.
Why am I still breathing?”
Halston didn’t blink.
“Dead things don’t suffer, Kaira.
And trust me, killing you off easily is not exactly the revenge I planned.”
He smiled after his response, like I am supposed to be proud of his answer.
“Why kill them after the exchange?
Even after the deal was done you just had to kill them.
They gave you what you wanted!
They signed that paper.” My anger grew and tear filled the corners of my eyes, but I had promised myself I was never going to let myself cry in front of him.
He wasn’t worth it.
I waited for an answer.
I wanted a reason—a cold, logical explanation for the blood he wasted.
But Halston just stared at me, his jaw shifted slightly, but he said nothing.
His unreadable gaze or the silence, I didn’t know which one upset me more.
“Those scars on your back,” he said, abruptly changing the subject.
“Those aren’t from a ‘perfect ordinary’ childhood.
Who trained you to fight like that?”
I matched his stare, my jaw locked.
I didn’t say a word.
He huffed.
“Fine.
Keep your secret, everyone has one.”
He stood up to leave then paused.
“You’ll be allowed limited freedom around the estate.
But if you attempt another escape, what happened yesterday will feel like mercy compared to what follows.”
**********
It is dark.
The floorboards are cold against my feet.
I stared at the faint strip of light slipping through a half-open door.
I finally reached for the door, it was leading to a basement.
My fingers trembled as I pushed it just an inch.
I didn’t know how I got there but I knew I shouldn’t be there.
Slowly I got closer to a room, my heart beat strangely and loud in my ears.
Voices echoed from the other side.
I pressed myself against the wall and looked through the narrow opening that was on the wooden door.
A man stood there dressed in black.
His face hidden by shadows, his back turned to me.
I could feel the weight of his presence even from here, but he wasn’t alone, someone else was there, hidden in the gloom, reaching out, saying something I couldn’t hear properly.
Their voices sounded far away like I was under water.
The man in black holds his hand out.
The dim light catches on something on his finger.
A silver ring.
He was handed something small, something of a black covering.
I frowned, trying harder to see, but everything blurred at the edges.
My head hurt.
“Kaira…” a voice called out from a distance.
I turned too fast, it was a familiar voice but there was nothing, only darkness stretching behind me.
My chest tightened, my gaze bouncing around corners.
“Mom” my own little voice sounded like a desperate plea.
There was no answer, only silence.
Then again.
“Kaira.”
The voice sounded closer this time.
I started walking toward it, slowly.
My breathing turned uneven, it seemed like the walls were narrowing and trying to trap me into an enclosed space.
Then the door to the basement opened, and a bright light shone from it.