“Sit down.” He motions at the sofa with a tilt of his arrogant nose. “Eat.”

“No.”

“Do you want me to shove the food down your throat, is that it?”

“I want you to let me go.”

“Are you going to sit the fuck down and eat, or will I have to do it?”

I jut my chin and realise my mistake too late. Jonathan reaches me in a few long strides and throws me over his shoulder as if I’m a sack of potatoes. A squeal rips from me as my world tips upside down, my hair falling to his thigh-level. Blood rushes to my head from this position, and I hit his back over and over, ignoring how my palms sting.

“Stop that or it’ll reopen your wounds.”

“Then let me go.” I hit him some more.

Slap.

I freeze as fire erupts in my arse. My thighs clench, and I can feel the wetness coating my knickers.

Shit. Fuck. No.

This can’t be happening. Why the hell am I still turned on by this? I shouldn’t be. He…he’s going to hurt me, to kill me. Like he did with my sister.

However, a part of my brain is numbed to that fact as if it doesn’t exist. A part of my brain horrifies me because that idiot doesn’t think Jonathan would ever hurt me.

That part felt no threat when Jonathan walked into the room. If anything, it was something completely different that I don’t like to name.

“There. Good girl, though you’re not acting like it lately.” He slowly drops me on the sofa and I scoot to the edge, pulling the nightgown down, nearly ripping the straps.

Jonathan’s head tilts to the side, eyes devouring my chest in that purely lustful way. “I like the view.”

I stare down in horror and sure enough, in my attempt to cover my legs, I exposed my breasts and a hard rosy nipple peeks through. I let the cloth snap back into place and glare at Jonathan, who seems…slightly disappointed.

The moment ends when he points at the food.

“No.”

“You haven’t eaten since yesterday.”

My stomach growls as if agreeing with his statement. I ignore it and the embarrassment that comes with it.

“I wasn’t joking about shoving it down your throat, Aurora. You know I can do it, so don’t make me act on it.”

“You don’t get to keep me against my will, then force me to eat as if I’m a prisoner, okay?”

“You’re not a prisoner. You get to walk out of here any second you like if you tell me what the fuck is wrong with you since last night.” His voice turns lethal with every word and I know that he’s losing his patience.

Jonathan and patience aren’t on the best of terms, even on good days, let alone on bad ones. He’s used to getting what he wants with a snap of his fingers and now that he isn’t, he’ll get more ruthless with every moment I remain silent.

But on the other hand, if I tell him about the message Alicia sent me, I’m never getting out. That’s like accusing him of murder, and someone like Jonathan won’t let anyone throw something like that around. He’ll smother it in no time.

Forget about the six-month deal. He’ll have me follow my sister as soon as he deems necessary.

“So what’s it going to be?” he asks with that sharp tone.

I stare at him, bemused.

“The food, Aurora. Are you going to eat or should we go with my plan?”

I glare at him as I grab a piece of toast. If I’m going to get out of here, I’ll need every bit of my energy, so I won’t refuse the food that’s able to give me strength.

My palm stings when I close it around the bread and I flex it a little to alleviate the pain.

Jonathan seems to notice that, too. He sits beside me, and I attempt to scoot away, but I’m already at the edge. His thigh touches mine, and I try to ignore the warmth or the woodsy scent emanating from him like it’s his second skin.

He takes the toast from between my fingers, puts butter on it like I usually do, then brings it to my mouth. I try to snatch it back, but he keeps it out of reach.

“I can eat on my own.”

“Not after you injured your palms and reopened the wounds.”

“But —”

“Stop being fucking stubborn. Open that mouth and eat.”

I purse my lips, once again feeling like a child being reprimanded. It’s the damn authoritative tone, I swear. The way he lashes it out with that firmness has always gotten to me.

Deciding to pick my battles, I slowly open and take a tentative bite of the toast to not trigger the cut on my lip. Jonathan also detects that fact since he places it back on the plate.

God. Is there anything this man doesn’t notice? He’s so attuned to details, it’s insane.

He uses the knife to cut it into small pieces, but he doesn’t use the fork to feed me. No, he goes with his bare hands. Every time he slips something in my mouth, his lean, masculine fingers scrape against my skin, and a shiver overtakes me.

It’s like we’re back to the days when we used to have breakfast together as he wrenched one orgasm out of me after another.

I hate that I’m thinking about it.

I hate that it feels weird to not sit on his lap like usual.

Snap out of it, Aurora.

The food melts in my mouth before I’m even able to chew properly. My stomach stops making sounds as Jonathan fills it with everything on the plate.

He keeps feeding me, and I keep eating. I tell myself it’s to get my strength back, but each time his fingers brush against my skin, I shudder.

“Is it because of the attack?” His cool voice drifts around me like a lullaby.

What? A lullaby? Jonathan? This must be the lack of sleep talking. Jonathan and lullabies are as far apart as they could be.

I continue chewing on a piece of egg to give me an excuse to not speak. My hands lie limp on my lap as if they don’t know what to do. Usually, they would be picking food while Jonathan’s fingers are busy with other parts of my body.

The balance is off, and the fact that it’ll never be the same again fills me with a sudden sense of grief.

“Or is it Maxim’s interview?”

My blood runs cold at that, and I stop chewing for a second before resuming. Of course, Jonathan doesn’t miss it.

“I assume it’s both.” He cocks his head to the side. “Do you think you’re eligible to have another rebirth to escape this?”

I clamp my lips shut.

“You cannot have a rebirth when you didn’t finish the first one, Aurora.”

My voice is calm, considering my internal mess. “What do you know about rebirths when you were born with a silver spoon hanging from your mouth?”

He scoffs. Jonathan scoffs. The entire motion is so weird that I take some time to commit it to memory. “If anyone here was born with a silver spoon, it’s you, wild one. Just because that spoon was snatched from your mouth in your teens doesn’t mean it wasn’t always there. Maxim gave you everything you wanted, didn’t he? You were his spoiled little princess.”

“Stop it.”

“That’s why you failed your rebirth, Aurora,” he continues as if I haven’t said a word. “You can’t be reborn if you still can’t get out of his shadow.”

“I am not in his shadow.”

“It looks that way, though. What did I tell you about how he’ll reappear? That he doesn’t like being forgotten. Are you that surprised he’s dragging you with him? It’s his way to retaliate for what you did eleven years ago, and if you keep giving him leverage, he won’t hesitate to use it against you.”