Page 218 of The Call of Crimson
“When did you last eat?”
I shrug. I don’t even remember the last time I drank.
“She’s refused every meal,” Ayden says. I don’t see him, so he must be standing behind us. He doesn’t sound pleased.
“Breyla,” Aurelius urges, his voice taking on a tender quality. “You must eat.”
I don’t respond, opting to watch the flames instead.
He reaches out, gently gripping my chin between his thumb and forefinger, and turns me to face him. His strong jaw is dusted in dark stubble. Prominent cheekbones. That sun-warmed skin he shares with Rowina and Ayden, no doubt from their father.
He’s not just beautiful. He’s breathtaking.
Even in this worn-down state.
His full lips twitch into a smirk, a huff of laughter escaping. “Stop ogling me, Princess, and eat.”
I don’t bother to deny his accusation. I just stare blankly at him.
Aurelius holds a scone to my lips. “Eat.”
Where did he get a scone?
I have no desire to eat, but I do have the sudden desire to appease him. He slides the pastry past my lips when I open my mouth, and I bite down.
The buttery sweetness is cut with a tartness.
Is that cranberry?
I chew slowly, my tongue delighting at the mix of sweet and tart.
Once I finish, Aurelius smiles. “That’s a good girl.”
The words should spark arousal, satisfaction at pleasing him, but still, I feel nothing.
Aurelius’ eyes shift to Ayden behind me. “Next time, call for me when you need her to eat instead of letting her starve.”
“How was I to know she would eat for you?” Ayden scoffs.
“I’m not going to dignify that with a response,” Aurelius replies flatly.
“Fine, I will call for you next time,” Ayden begrudgingly agrees.
Aurelius returns the next day with roast chicken.
I reluctantly eat it, my stomach clenching in pain when I’m finished. I throw it up right after he leaves.
When he brings me the next meal, I tell him to get fucked.
The following day, he tries again, opting for a sliced apple instead. I try to refuse again, but he threatens to use his Hemonia Gift to force my jaw to chew.
With my middle finger raised, I eat the damn apple.
The next time I see Aurelius, Ophelia is with him, and he has warm broth and crusty bread. The look in her eyes is haunting, her cheeks gaunt as she reluctantly sips on her own broth at Ayden’s request. She reaches for me, but I turn away.
Aurelius returns daily, food in hand, for the next two weeks.
Still, blistering cold numbness is all I know.
