Page 63 of Owned By the Hvrok

He could force her. Grab her jaw. Shove the food into her mouth.

What if that’s how he solved problems?

Her heart hammered against her ribs. Her breath caught.

But he didn’t move, didn’t strike, didn’t react.

Instead, he made a low sound. A rough, questioning grunt deep in his throat, followed by a few slow words in that strange, growling language of his.

He didn’t sound angry.

Just confused, curious…

Tentative, even.

Like he was trying to understand.

She stared at him, shocked.

He’daskedsomething. She could tell by the tone, the upward lilt at the end of his speech. It was a question.

But she didn’t have the answer. Not in a way he’d understand.

God, if she could justtalkto him.

Explain.

It’s not that she didn’t appreciate the gesture. Not that she was being stubborn. But that food—thatfood—she couldn’t stomach it. It had become symbolic now. Of everything those horrible green aliens were. Of her captivity. Of the pain.

“I can’t,” she whispered, more to herself than to him. “I can’t eat that stuff.”

She looked up at him again.

His posture had eased.

He wasn’t tense anymore. He just… watched her. Intently. As if trying to read her face. Her body. Her breath.

As if he wanted to understand.

It threw her completely.

He didn’t turn away. Didn’t shove the canister back into her hands. Didn’t give up, either.

He just stood there, silent, thinking.

And the strangest thing of all was that… he wasn’t angry.

Not in the slightest.

He didn’t force her.

Didn’t bark, didn’t loom harder, didn’t even try to press the container closer.

He just stood there, still shirtless, broad and silent, as though he was waiting forherto decide.

And something about that cracked through her stubbornness.

Because he could have made her—soeasily.

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