Her Tortured Mate

Episode 3. Food

When I woke, the sharp ache in my wrists was the first thing I noticed. The second was the raw sting as I shifted against the rope’s rough fibers. My attempts to escape the night before had left my skin bloodied and raw. A cruel reminder of just how trapped I was. I flexed my fingers, testing their movement, but even that small action made my wrists throb. A sticky sensation clung to my skin, and when I glanced down, I froze—blood streaked my hands, smeared in uneven patterns like a grim marker of my desperation.

The cave was silent, save for the faint drip of water echoing somewhere in its depths. The stillness felt oppressive, almost as if the walls themselves were conspiring to keep me here. I couldn’t give in to despair, though. I had to focus. My mind started cycling through survival priorities: food, water, and a sharp object. Preferably something I could use to cut the rope. Worst case scenario... something I could use to defend myself. Or, if it came to it, to make sure he didn’t get the satisfaction of deciding my fate.

A loud growl broke through the quiet. It took me a moment to realize it wasn’t an external threat—just my own stomach protesting its emptiness. Great. As if on cue, the wolf reappeared, its dark form moving with eerie grace through the cave. Its massive head turned toward me, green eyes glinting in the dim light.

Dangling from its mouth was a rabbit, limp and lifeless. My breath hitched as the sight hit me like a punch to the gut. I scrambled backward, pressing myself against the cave wall. The cold stone bit into my back, but I didn’t care. My eyes were locked on the poor creature swinging from the wolf’s jaws.

The wolf paused, tilting its head as if studying me. For a fleeting moment, I swore it understood my reaction. Then, in a motion almost too fluid to be real, it turned and padded back out of sight. My body relaxed, but only slightly.

Moments later, the man emerged, carrying the rabbit. He had the decency to hold it in a way that partially obscured it from my view, but the damage was done. The reality of what was happening—what he was—pressed in on me. This was his meal. His survival.

The scrape of stone on stone drew my attention, and soon, the cave filled with the warm glow of firelight. Shadows danced across the walls, giving the space an almost surreal quality. The smell of roasting meat wafted toward me, and my stomach betrayed me again with another loud growl. The hunger was undeniable, but so was the guilt. I couldn’t stop thinking about the rabbit, about how easily its life had been taken.

He approached me after the meat was cooked, still shirtless, his presence commanding even in the dim light. My cheeks flushed as I quickly looked away, but not before I caught the faint sheen of sweat on his skin. The firelight made him look almost otherworldly, a dangerous predator cloaked in human form.

He knelt near me, holding out a piece of cooked rabbit. My throat tightened. I wanted to refuse, to show some semblance of defiance, but the gnawing hunger in my stomach made it impossible. When I didn’t reach for it, he simply set it down within arm’s reach and moved back. His green eyes stayed fixed on me, their intensity unnerving.

I hesitated, but the scent of the meat was too tempting. I tore into it with a mix of desperation and shame, my hands trembling slightly. He watched me the whole time, his gaze unreadable. The silence between us felt heavy, broken only by the crackle of the fire and the occasional rustle of his movements.

When I’d finished, he disappeared briefly, returning with a bucket of water. My heart raced at the sight, the ache of thirst now joining the gnawing hunger in my body. He climbed onto the bed beside me, holding the bucket steady.

I flinched when his hand brushed my arm, instinctively curling away from him. The rope bit into my wrists, and I winced as fresh pain bloomed. He frowned at my reaction, his expression softening in a way that felt almost... human. Without a word, he moved behind me, untying the rope with surprising care.

For a moment, I considered fighting, but his size and strength made it a futile thought. Instead, I stayed still as he freed my wrists. The skin was worse than I’d realized—red and raw, with faint streaks of dried blood.

He dipped a cloth into the water, then gently dabbed at my wrists. The sting was immediate, sharp enough to draw a hiss from my lips. His touch was surprisingly tender, though, and for a moment, I allowed myself to relax. Infection would be worse than this fleeting pain, and his careful cleaning felt almost... considerate.

Once he’d finished, he set the cloth aside and stood, leaving me untied for the first time since I’d woken in this cave. I watched him warily as he moved to the entrance, his back to me.

Taking the opportunity, I slowly rose to my feet. He didn’t move, but I could feel his eyes on me, sharp and assessing. I scanned the cave, searching for anything useful. My gaze landed on a pile of clothes in one corner. They were worn and smelled faintly of sweat and earth, but they were intact. I grabbed a pair of pants and some underwear, tossing them in his direction.

“Put these on,” I said, my voice steadier than I expected.

He glanced at the clothes, his expression twisting into something between annoyance and resignation. After a moment, he slipped them on, the fabric clinging awkwardly to his frame. He looked... uncomfortable, as if the clothes were a foreign concept to him. I didn’t care. At least now I didn’t have to keep avoiding his gaze.

Continuing my exploration, I found a shelf stocked with random items—soap, a few tools, and what looked like scraps of old parchment. The cave had the bare essentials, but it was clear he’d made do with very little. Among the items, I found a scrap of paper and a stub of a pencil. An idea sparked.

I scribbled a quick list of items: blankets, proper food supplies, something to wash with. When I was done, I approached him cautiously, holding the list out.

“We’re going to need these,” I said firmly.

He took the paper, his eyes scanning it slowly. The moment stretched on, his brow furrowing in concentration. When he finally looked up, there was something in his expression I couldn’t quite place. His lips parted, and for the first time, I thought he might actually speak.