Page 16 of Alpha Chained
I return to my seat and turn my attention back to my meal, forcing myself to eat methodically while keeping one eye on the female. Each bite she takes seems to bring a bit more life back into her eyes. Her movements grow steadier, less frantic.
As I chew on another piece of steak, I can’t help but think about how quickly things can change here – how someone can go from being full of fight to barely hanging on by a thread in just a few days. I’ve seen it too many times.
But this one…there’s something different about her. She’s got fire underneath that weariness.
She looks up again, catching me staring. Her gaze holds mine for a beat longer than necessary before she returns to eating.
Keep your distance. She’s not your problem.
But somehow, I get the feeling that she already is.
???
Raura
Oh, my God, I can’t remember the last time anything tasted so good. I’m making a pig of myself, but I don’t care. I lick the sticky juices from my fingers and catch myself in the act of groaning at how incredible it is.
I didn’t think that hunger could be so all-consuming. When Parker had first threatened me with starvation, I’d scoffed at him. But now, I’m starting to feel myself waiver.
At least, I’d thought I would. This unexpected act of kindness could change everything. Hope is surging in me again as my strength returns.
I keep my eyes on the stranger, watching as he eats. He’s sitting at a small table, carefully cutting and eating his food as if he’s at some sort of fancy restaurant. It would be funny if the man wasn’t so darn easy to look at.
Why did he give me his food?
I’ve been certain that he hasn’t been aware of me since I arrived. Not that I’ve spent much time in my cell. But during the times I’ve been here, I might as well not have been, for all the attention he’s paid me. This is the first time he’s actually acknowledged my existence, aside from that fleeting moment the first day I saw him.
Licking the last of the flavor from my fingers, I steel myself and take a deep breath. “Um…thank you,” I say. He doesn’t respond, so I try again, “For the…uh…food. Thanks.”
He turns his head and looks over at me, and I find myself frozen. Those eyes are something else. Pale silver with a darker band around the irises. Like a wolf…which he is, of course. But this is more like a snow wolf than anything I’ve encountered before. And it’s mind-boggling. I try hard not to let my mouth drop open.
“No problem,” he says, then goes back to eating.
I gnaw on my lip. It feels as if there needs to be more to this interaction. “So…um…why did you do it? Give me your food, I mean.”
“You were hungry,” he says, then turns his attention back to his plate and takes another mouthful. My God, he’s got a really great jawline. I watch the way it flexes as he chews.
“Yes. But you didn’t need to. That was really…um…kind of you.” I don’t know why I’m pushing this, but it’s been days since I spoke to anyone who wasn’t trying to hurt me, and I can’t seem to help myself. It’s my big mouth again. Always getting me into trouble.
He sets his fork down, and I feel a little awkward…as if I’m interrupting his meal. “Do you think I was going to sit here and watch you starve?”
“No.” I shake my head. “Of course not. Or maybe… I don’t know.” I chew on my lip. “But you need to eat, too, and I just… I’m grateful. I want you to know that.” It’s only when I reach the bars that I realize I’ve walked forward.
I’m close enough to pick up his scent now, and it’s even more appealing than the steak I just devoured. Crisp and clean, like the forest after a rainstorm. Which is odd in this place. We only have a small basin in each cell – not much opportunity to wash off the grime in here. Although I’m squeaky clean right now, thanks to freaking Parker blasting me with a fire hose this morning.
God, I hate the man.
“It was nothing,” he says. “Would you like more?” He points to his plate. The gesture flexes the muscles in his forearm, which is broad and sinewy and leads to an almost impossibly thick bicep.
“No…no,” I shake my head. “You need it. I’m good. I just…I…I… I’m Raura,” I blurt, feeling foolish even as I say it.
Dark eyebrows pull together as if he’s wondering why I just volunteered this information.
Because you’re an idiot, Raura!
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—” God, I’m such a fool.
“Riot,” he says simply.