Irina’s POV

Three days.

Three days of meals with him.

Lunch. Every single day. At the same massive table. In the same suffocating silence.

I pushed a piece of chicken around my plate. My stomach had stopped hurting yesterday. The gastritis was better.

But I still couldn’t eat much.

The food sat heavy. Made me feel full after just a few bites.

I forced another piece into my mouth. Chewed mechanically.

Across from me, Nicolas ate. Calm. Controlled. Like this was normal.

Like sitting across from a mate who flinched every time he moved was perfectly fine.

The mate bond hummed between us. Constant. Insistent.

*Look at him. He’s ours. We need him.*

I kept my eyes down. Focused on my plate.

If I looked at him, my heart would start racing. Would pound so hard I couldn’t breathe.

It already did that anyway. But looking made it worse.

My fork scraped against china. Too loud in the quiet.

I froze.

Waited for him to say something. To comment.

He didn’t.

Just kept eating. Like nothing happened.

I exhaled slowly. Brought another bite to my mouth.

The food had no taste. Everything tasted like cardboard lately.

But I chewed. Swallowed. Repeated.

My stomach protested. Said it was full. Done.

I set down my fork carefully. Folded my hands in my lap.

And waited.

Nicolas continued eating. Unhurried. Taking his time.

I sat perfectly still. Spine rigid. Ready to bolt the second he dismissed me.

Minutes crawled by.

Each one felt like an hour.

My legs cramped from staying so still. My shoulders ached from the tension.

But I didn’t move. Didn’t complain.

Just waited.

Finally—finally—he set down his silverware.

Picked up his napkin. Wiped his mouth.

My heart jumped. This was it. He’d say I could go now.

"You barely ate," he said instead.

His voice made me flinch. Deep. Rough.

"I—" My throat closed up. "I’m full."

His green eyes fixed on me. Intense. Burning.

"You had five bites."

"My stomach—" I swallowed hard. "It’s still recovering. I can’t eat much at once."

Silence stretched between us.

I kept my gaze down. Couldn’t look at him directly.

"Fine," he said finally. "You can go."

Relief flooded through me. I stood quickly. Too quickly.

My chair scraped backward. The sound echoed.

"Thank you," I whispered.

Then walked. Fast. Not quite running.

Out of the dining room. Down the hallway. Away from him.

My heart hammered the entire way.

---

I closed my bedroom door behind me.

Leaned against it. Let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding.

Safe. I was safe now.

For a few hours, at least.

My legs felt weak. Shaky. I moved to the bed. Sat on the edge.

Every meal was the same. This suffocating tension. This fear that wouldn’t go away.

And underneath it—worse than the fear—was the other thing.

The pull.

The mate bond that made my skin burn when he was near. That made my heart race for different reasons.

I hated it. Hated how my body responded to him.

How part of me wanted to move closer instead of away. Wanted to reach out. To touch.

To be touched.

My hands clenched in my lap.

No. I didn’t want that. Couldn’t want that.

Not after everything. Not after Maxim.

A knock at the door made me jump.

My heart, which had just started to calm down, kicked back into overdrive.

"Yes?" My voice came out small. Nervous.

"It’s Sofia, miss."

I relaxed slightly. Just Sofia. Not him.

"Come in."

The door opened. Sofia stepped inside. Smiling like always.

But something was different about her expression. Uncertain.

"Miss Irina," she said carefully. "I wanted to let you know—the alpha will be visiting your chambers tonight."

Everything inside me went cold.

"What?" The word barely came out.

"He sent word earlier." Sofia twisted her hands together. "He’ll be here after dinner. I thought you’d want time to... prepare."

Prepare.

Prepare for what?

My mind went blank. Completely blank.

"I—" I stood. Sat back down. Stood again. "I don’t—"

"It’s alright, miss." Sofia’s voice was gentle. "I can help you get ready if you’d like. Draw a bath? Pick out something nice to wear?"

Something nice to wear.

Like that mattered. Like anything I wore would make a difference.

He was coming here. To my room. Tonight.

And I knew what that meant.

His words from before echoed in my head. *Next time—even if you’re crying, even if you’re begging me to stop—I’m going to fuck you anyway.*

My breathing quickened. Panic crawled up my throat.

"Miss?" Sofia stepped closer. "Are you alright? You look pale."

"Fine," I lied. "I’m fine. I’ll—I’ll prepare myself. Thank you."

"Are you sure? I can—"

"Please go." The words came out sharper than I meant. "I need... I need to be alone."

Hurt flickered across Sofia’s face. But she nodded.

"Of course. If you need anything, just call."

She left. Closed the door softly behind her.

I stood in the middle of the room. Frozen.

Tonight. He was coming tonight.

What did I do? How did I prepare for—for that?

My hands shook. I pressed them against my stomach.

Think. I needed to think.

But my mind wouldn’t cooperate. Just spun in circles.

Panic. Fear. The mate bond pulling and demanding.

I moved to the bathroom. Maybe washing my face would help. Would clear my head.

The bathroom was massive. All white marble and gold fixtures.

I turned on the faucet. Let cold water run over my hands.

Then splashed it on my face. Once. Twice.

The cold helped. Slightly.

I reached for a towel. Dried my face.

Then looked up at the mirror.

And froze.

Maxim stared back at me.

His face. Right there in the reflection. Standing behind me.

That smile. That horrible smile.

My heart stopped.

"Hello, little rabbit," he said. His voice clear. Real. "Miss me?"

I spun around.

Nothing. Nobody there.

Just empty bathroom. Just me.

I turned back to the mirror.

He was still there. Still smiling.

And next to him—

Alexei.

My stepbrother. Leering. Eyes crawling over me like hands.

"Thought you could escape us?" Maxim’s reflection tilted his head. "Thought the alpha king would save you?"

"No," I whispered. "You’re not real. You’re not here."

"Aren’t we?" Alexei’s laugh echoed. "We’re always here, Irina. Always watching."

Maxim’s hand reached toward me in the mirror. Like he could touch me through the glass.

"You’ll always be ours," he said. "No matter whose mark you wear."

Terror exploded through me.

White-hot. Blinding.

I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think.

Could only react.

My fist flew forward. Drove into the mirror.

Glass shattered. 𝘧𝓇ℯ𝑒𝓌𝑒𝑏𝓃𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭.𝒸ℴ𝓂

The sound was deafening. Crystal fragments exploded outward.

Pain ripped through my hand. Sharp. Immediate.

I stumbled backward. Hit the wall.

Blinked.

The mirror—what was left of it—showed only my reflection now. Fractured. Broken.

No Maxim. No Alexei.

Just me.

And my hand.

Blood ran down my fingers. Dripped onto the white marble floor.

Red. So much red.

I stared at it. At the cuts across my knuckles. At the glass embedded in my skin.

They hadn’t been real.

Maxim. Alexei. The voices.

None of it had been real.

Just my mind. Playing tricks. Showing me ghosts.

Blood dripped. Steady. Rhythmic.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Against the marble.

I looked back at the shattered mirror. At my broken reflection staring back.