The hallway down to the basement seemed longer this time, though her steps carried a different weight now. Her training was in an hour, she hadn't forgotten, but something about the timing felt right. The panic that gripped her before had dulled.
The drug, she reasoned, had likely worked its way out of his system by now. And with that knowledge came a fragile sort of confidence. Not comfort. Not safety. But enough to push her forward.
Celina gripped the small kit in her hands. It contained antiseptic, bandages, clean cloths, all packed tightly in a soft leather pouch. Her fingers trembled around the handle.
Every step echoed.
The cold met her before the door did, creeping up her bare arms like fingers. She paused, hand on the doorknob, her breath caught in her throat. Her body wanted to run. But she twisted the knob anyway.
The basement was dimly lit, a single bulb buzzing above. Rafael sat against the far wall, chained but upright. His head rested back, eyes closed, chest rising slowly. Still. Too still.
She moved closer.
He didn't look at her. Not even when she crouched and set the kit down with a soft clink. The sound echoed too loud in the silence.
"I brought something," she said. "For the wounds."
No answer.
She knelt beside him, hesitating, then reached to touch his arm.
He flinched.
"Don't," he said, voice low, rough. "You here to finish what your sister started?"
She swallowed. "You're bleeding."
His eyes opened—narrowed, angry. "What, feeling guilty now? Afraid your pet might die before you're done playing with him?"
Celina bit the inside of her cheek. "I didn't know what she did."
He didn't answer.
She uncapped the antiseptic and began cleaning the gash on his temple. He jerked, but didn't pull away.
"I didn't stop her," she admitted quietly, "because I didn't know. That's not an excuse but it's the truth."
Her hands worked in silence, dabbing gently at first, then harder, as if punishing herself. His skin was hot beneath the cloth. Tense. He smelled faintly of rust, sweat, and something else she couldn't place—warm and alive and sharp. It unsettled her.
He laughed.
Not loud. Not kind.
The sound curled low in his throat, amused and sharp, as if her fumbling explanation had confirmed something for him. That she didn't belong here. That she was far too innocent for a life like this.
He scoffed under his breath. "You still think this place runs on apologies? That guilt changes anything?" His voice dropped, mocking. "You're in the wrong world, princess."
The words hit like a slap, shaming, and humiliating. Her cheeks burned.
And under the shame, anger stirred like a sleeping beast.
It made her feel like she was bleeding in front of a wolf.
She wrapped his wrist. Finished.
The silence stretched between them, thick and unsaid.
"You want something," he said at last.
She looked up, startled.
"People like you don't come bearing bandages unless they want something in return."
She hesitated. "I want the truth."
His brows lifted slightly. "About what?"
"Why you were taken. Who you really are."
A pause.
"You help me get out of here," he said, "and I'll tell you everything."
She stared at him, searching his face.
A flicker of temptation twisted in her chest. The offer dangled like a poisoned key. For a moment, she hated how much she wanted to believe him.
Then she scoffed.
"You're dumb if you think I'd fall for that," she said, voice low and sharp. "I'll get what I want. Whether from your mouth, or someone else's. That part's up to you."
She turned toward the stairs.
Behind her, his voice came again, quieter this time—almost too casual. "You think I'm the cruel one? Dig a little deeper, princess. Your family makes monsters look polite."
She stopped mid-step.
The words hit different, deeper and colder.
She didn't want to believe it. She didn't want to keep peeling back the layers.
But she knew she would.
If it came to that, then so be it.
But just as her foot touched the first step, his voice followed.
"I didn't touch you. That night."
She froze.
"I could have," he said. "But I didn't."
She didn't look back.
But her fingers curled tighter around the railing as she climbed.
And she didn't breathe until the door shut behind her.