Page 32 of The Alpha's Bullied Rejected Mate

She narrowed her gaze. “And how exactly am I supposed to ‘reinforce the barrier’ if I’m still shackled?”

“You scream,” he said flatly. “To alert me.”

He gave the last lock a click for emphasis. “This would help you extend your movements.”

Athena rolled her eyes inwardly.

Fucking fantastic.

Operation earn his trust—failed.

***

Athena stared out from the balcony, carefully observing any shift from the distance beyond. She could barely sense any movements from the barrier, but even with the danger temporarily gone, her stomach remained twisted in knots.

She exhaled shakily and ran a hand through her tangled hair. The chains clinked with the motion, a harsh reminder of her reality. She looked down at the cuffs. The skin around them had grown raw and pink from her attempts to break free.

She was exhausted. With every passing minute, her chances of escaping turned minimal.

Her earlier plan had failed. She was left with one more option. Her last resort—seduction.

There was only one way to make a hunter hell bent on his duty waver—desire. It was another trick she had learnt during her dark days. She had seen witches escape hunts by successfully manipulating the desires of their supposed hunters until they had let their guard down.

No matter how duty-bound they seemed, all creatures were subject to the flesh, and she doubted Marcus was any different. Considering how he had once discarded her after sharing an intimate moment with her.

She had to give it a try.

Truthfully, the idea didn’t seem appealing to her. She wanted nothing to do with getting close to his skin. Whenever she looked into those amber eyes of his, it reminded her of past memories she had worked so hard to bury.

But she was now in a dire situation, and she couldn’t let her emotions get in the way.

The click of the lock cut through her thoughts. She froze. The door opened, and Marcus’s imposing figure stepped in, large and looming in the doorway, silhouetted by the fading sunlight.

Athena immediately straightened, schooling her expression into something neutral. Maybe even a little startled.

His amber eyes scanned the room before he stepped inside, closing the door behind him. He held a tray in his hand.

It contained a bowl of noodle soup and a glass of water. The savory aroma made Athena’s stomach growl embarrassingly loud, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten since yesterday.

“You need to eat,” he said, setting the tray on the small table by the window.

“Do you usually feed your prisoners?” she queried as she glided toward the bed.

She moved slowly, deliberately, before she sat, folding her legs beneath her gingerly.

Marcus followed, setting the tray on a small table between them.

“Only the ones that are needed alive.”

Her eyes flicked to the spoon, then back to him. She parted her lips slightly.

“Well?” she said, coyly. “Aren’t you going to feed me?”

He let out a dry laugh, and it surprised them both.

“You can manage a spoon,” he said, the corners of his mouth twitching in amusement.

She pouted, letting her voice drop a note lower—soft and a little breathy to show vulnerability. She tilted her head, watching him through her lashes.