Chapter 9 Play Your Part - Maya's POV

Minutes fly by and the room only grows quieter as time passes. It seems like the weight of silence presses down on me, so I stare at the ceiling and try to push away the thoughts that are clawing at my mind.

Of course, they refuse to leave.

Deep into the night, I start to hear things. They make me feel weird, and I sit up on the edge of the bed to hear them better. Every little sound bothers me.

They sound like hounds, and maybe even some growls.

What kind of place is this?

Right as I go to stand and head to the window, a knock on the door pulls me from my thoughts.

“Maya, it’s Evelyn, my dear,” she calls out from the other side of the door.

Relief washes over me and I quickly sling my legs over the side of the bed fully. “Come in.”

The door creaks as Evelyn pushes it open and steps inside. She carries a tray full of food. The aroma hits me almost instantly. It is filled with warm and savory scents that make me feel like I am back home.

When she comes closer, I notice a bowl of soup with what looked to be a loaf of bread sitting beside it.

“I thought you might be hungry,” she says as she comes closer and sets the tray down on the table between the chairs near the fireplace.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

Evelyn straightens, her gaze studying me in a way that she seemed to do earlier. “You’ve had a very long day, so it’s fine if you take things slow. One step at a time.”

I nod, completely unsure of how to respond. Does she know that I’ve stayed up all night and haven’t been able to sleep?

She hesitates before adding, “No one here expects you to be anything you’re not. Remember that. They are much kinder than they seem, including Damian.”

I’m not sure if I believe her, despite her tone sounding genuine.

After a moment, Evelyn gives me a small smile and moves toward the door once more. “Try to eat the entire bowl and bread. But at least a little. You’ll need your strength.”

When she leaves, I gulp. What do I need strength for?

My stomach growls, but the knot of anxiety in my chest makes it hard to think about eating anything, even if it smells delicious.

I get up from the bed and wander closer to the chairs, still smelling the soup. Instead of letting anxiety rule, I sit down in one of the chairs and pick up the spoon near the bowl. Without thinking, I go ahead and begin eating.

The first bite is warm and soothing. For a moment, it is like the world outside doesn’t even exist.

But it does, and I am reminded of it when I hear another howl off in the distance.

I put the spoon down as I listen to the last howl fade. My appetite fades with it as my thoughts drift back to Damian.

What does he want from me? What role do I play? He basically bought me from my father without much explanation.

Then I think back to how he looks at me. Why can’t I stop thinking about it?

I shake my head and lean back into the chair.

The chair squeaks slightly as I shift in it. My mind is swirling with too many thoughts, especially about what is outside.

I don’t know if the area had wolves, but that is what they sound like.

The howls in the distance seem to be coming closer, and it echoes in my ears. The fear they caused is quickly overtaken by uncertainty.

What am I really doing here?

I have been thrust into a world I don’t fully understand and no matter how I try to steal my nerves; the reality grips me hard.

Suddenly, the door open again. This time, it isn’t Evelyn.

No, it is the man who made the deal with my father. The man who has walked into my life with cold certainty, as if this whole transaction is nothing more than a business deal. I still haven’t gotten over the fact that he’d come to my house pretending to be one of his men. My father hadn’t suspected a thing. It is like a game to him, one where I am nothing more than a pawn to be sold off.

"You look scared," he says, his voice soft but full of that same calm, detached authority.

I know I’m not supposed to matter to him. I am just part of a deal, a piece of his plan. But if that is the case, then why does he look at me like he cares? Like my fear matters to him in some way?

The thought twists in my chest, and I can feel my heart beat faster. Why does he care?

I can’t stand the uncertainty anymore or stand the thought of being in the same room as him. It is too close, so I stand.

“Maybe because I am,” I say, my voice stronger than I feel. I don’t know if the words are for him or for me, but they come out sharp, betraying the vulnerability I try so hard to hide.

Instead of standing there, waiting for him to speak, I turn and walk over to the window, needing the distance. The night outside seems endless, the world beyond the glass swallowed by the darkness. The moon hangs overhead like a distant, cold witness to everything that has happened, casting a faint light on the mansion grounds.

The mansion itself is too still, too imposing. It feels like a prison. The walls seem to close in around me with each passing minute, each moment that I spend in this place with no way out.

The wind outside moves the trees, but it doesn’t ease the feelings warring within me. I want to run, to escape, but I know I can’t.

“You think I don’t care,” he says, breaking the silence. “But you are wrong.”

The words hit me like a punch. I close my eyes, trying to keep myself turned around and not facing him.

I can’t believe the words coming out of his mouth.

But something inside of me cracks. The faintest hint of something deeper, something I can’t understand, bubbles under the surface.

Instead, I whisper, “I don’t know what you want from me, but I’m not your pawn. I won’t be. This won’t be like my situation with my father.”

He only chuckles under his breath. “Do you think you’re the only one stuck in a game? I didn’t want this either, Maya. But it’s the way things are. You’ll play your part in the end.”