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I’ve been hunted, violated, broken down, and built back up. I’ve revealed things I’ve never told anyone about my fantasies. I’ve screamed, cried, and come undone in ways I never imagined possible. And now I’m sitting in this beautiful kitchen, eating breakfast like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

A wave of exhaustion hits me so hard I nearly drop my fork. I’m drained—completely and utterly. Everything hurts, inside and out. The mental gymnastics required to process what’s happening are beyond my grasp.

I stare down at my half-eaten breakfast, suddenly overwhelmed by everything. The fork feels heavy in my hand, and I can’t seem to coordinate the simple movement of bringing food to my mouth anymore. My vision blurs slightly at the edges.

Ryker’s gaze sharpens. He sets his coffee down with deliberate care.

“Kira,” he says, his voice cutting through the fog in my head. “You’re crashing.”

Before I can speak, he’s beside me, lifting me into his arms. The sudden movement sends my world spinning on its axis. Leaving my plate, he moves toward the living room to settle me onto the large sectional couch. “What are you?—”

“Just hold on, let me get you settled, then I can get your plate.”

I know the mountain vista stretches before us through those massive windows. Still, I barely register it as Ryker returns with my plate, sits down carefully, and repositions me on his lap so I am straddling him. I should feel exposed, vulnerable in this position, but I am too exhausted to fight anymore.

“I need you to eat for me.” he says, taking the plate in one hand. He grabs a piece of the toast, scoops some egg onto it, and brings it to my lips. “Eat.”

I blink at him, confusion breaking through my exhaustion. “What on earth are you doing?”

His blue eyes hold mine, uncharacteristically soft around the edges. No mask, no coldness, just... Ryker.

“I pushed you too far,” he says simply, still holding the food near my lips. “Your body’s in shock, your mind isn’t far behind. You need care right now, so I’m taking care of you. Helping you heal.”

“By feeding me? After everything, you think that willhealme?” I ask, incredulous despite everything.

“By whatever means necessary,” he says, his voice low and serious. “Now eat, Kira. Please.”

That “please” catches me off guard. I open my mouth and accept the food, too confused and tired to argue.

I swallow the food, studying his face as he prepares another bite. His expression is focused, almost tender, starkly contrasting with the cruelty I’ve witnessed for the last week. When he returns the fork to my lips, I open without hesitation.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, his free hand stroking my back in slow circles. “Small bites.”

The gentleness is disarming. Each time I finish a bite, he offers me sips of water. His hands are warm against my skin, steadying me when I sway slightly from exhaustion.

“Why are you doing this?” I ask between bites, my voice barely above a whisper.

His thumb brushes my lower lip, wiping away a crumb. “Because you need it.”

“Is this another test? Level seven or whatever?” The question slips out before I can stop it, but I’m too far gone to care

Something flickers across his face—but it’s gone before I can process it.

“No, Kira. This is just... care.” His voice drops lower. “You told me something last night that changed things.”

My confession about my past. The memory makes my chest tighten.

“So this is... what? Pity? A bit late for that, isn’t it?” I try to inject some anger into my voice, but it comes out fragile.

Ryker shakes his head, feeding me another bite before responding. “Not pity. Understanding.”

I chew slowly. Is this real? Or just another move to manipulate me? The line between sincere care and psychological warfare has blurred so completely that I can’t tell where one ends and the other begins.

As his hands continue their gentle ministrations—feeding me, stroking my hair, adjusting the dress when it rides up too high—I find myself leaning into his touch. My body recognizes what my mind resists: comfort and safety.

“I still don’t trust this,” I confess, even as I allow him to dab the corner of my mouth with a napkin. “I can’t tell if you’re being kind or this is another way to break me down.”

Ryker’s expression hardens at my words. “I’ll prove it to you,” he growls softly. The sound reverberates through my body, causing my skin to prickle despite the comfortable temperature.