Chapter 209
Varkas looked down at her through gritted teeth, then yelled toward the open doorway.
“Bring food. Now!”
The maids lingering out in the hall scattered down the stairs in a panic.
Before long, they crept back into the room carrying trays laden with dishes.
Varkas hauled the limp woman upright and propped her against the pillows. Snatching a bowl of plain porridge from a tray, he shoved it into her hands.
“Stop this childish nonsense and eat.”
Her unfocused eyes drifted toward the bowl.
When she failed to react, anxious irritation bled into his voice.
“If you won’t eat on your own, I will force it down your throat.”
Talia remained still, slumping like a marionette with its strings cut.
Losing what little patience remained, Varkas took the spoon and scooped up some porridge. But when he brought it to her lips, she turned her head away, as if even that slight motion cost too much effort.
He clamped a hand over her face, wrenching her jaw open. Only when he tried to shove the spoon inside did she violently lash out.
“No!”
With a frantic cry, she knocked his arm aside.
The spoon flew from his grip and clattered across the floor. In the scuffle, the porridge overturned, spilling warm white sludge over the sheets.
Varkas glared at the ruined bed with stony eyes, then picked up another vessel from the tray.
Inside the small porcelain cup was the fermented goat milk drink she had once liked for dessert. He thrust it toward her mouth and barked an order.
“Drink.”
She clenched her teeth and jerked away.
He caught her before she could pull back, pinning her against the headboard. Squeezing her cheeks hard to pry her lips apart, he poured the drink in little by little, but Talia refused to swallow.
The rejected liquid spilled past her lips, dripping down her chin and neck.
A surge of fury took him.
Varkas threw back the rest of the cup into his own mouth. Then, gripping her writhing shoulders so she could not twist away, he crushed his mouth against hers.
Only then did a spark of rage flare in the depths of her hollow eyes.
With strength unbefitting someone who had starved for days, her thin hands clawed frantically at his chest and throat.
He ignored her, driving his tongue deep into her mouth. A choked gasp rose from her forced-open throat.
Ignoring her distress, he forced the liquid down her throat. The cords in her neck stood out in furious resistance, and she bit down hard on his tongue.
Because he had a hand clamped around her jaw, the bite did not cut deep, but the metallic sting of blood flooded his mouth.
Varkas finally pulled back. Taking advantage of the gap, she scrambled toward the edge of the bed. He caught her by the shoulder just as she was about to spill onto the floor and slammed her back against the sheets.
Panting harshly, she glared up at him through a tangle of hair.
Cold sweat ran down her face.
Streaks of milky drink and blood smeared her mouth and chin, and pale spatters clung to her heaving chest. She looked like some creature from a nightmare that seduced men only to tear them apart.
Looking down at her, his eyes dark, Varkas spoke in a low, ragged voice.
“Tell me. What will it take to make you eat?”
A dry, rasping breath caught in her chapped lips. It took him a second to realize she was laughing.
As if all her strength had burnt out in that single struggle, her limbs went limp, and her breathing thinned to a faint wheeze.
“You say that… as if you’d ever listen….”
· · ·
“I won’t be fooled again. Never again.”
The wild glare that had burned in her eyes faded.
Staring into the empty air with eyes like hollow pits, she let her wet lashes fall and whispered:
“Just leave me alone.”
Something in his chest seized at that complete surrender.
Varkas slid an arm behind her neck and hauled her upright once more. Whatever she said, he would make her eat.
Cradling her cheeks in both hands, he forced her to face him. But she did not move, her eyes shut tight. Only after several seconds did he realize she had gone entirely limp and slipped from consciousness. He roared toward the door.
“Fetch a priest! Immediately!”
Frantic footsteps hurried down the hall the moment the command left his lips.
Supporting her with one arm, Varkas stripped away the soiled blankets and sheets. An observant maid hurried over with fresh linens and remade the bed.
Laying her down again, Varkas took a damp cloth from the basin on the stand and wiped her face. Talia remained motionless throughout, pale and silent as a corpse.
Only after the priest, hurried into the room by the maids, cast a recovery spell did she slowly open her eyes.
“Using recovery magic to replenish your strength is only a temporary measure. Without water and food, your body will give out.”
The priest offered the warning with solemn gravity.
Talia simply stared out the window, offering no reply. The priest cleared his throat awkwardly and glanced at Varkas.
Varkas jerked his chin toward the door. Taking the cue, the priest gathered his belongings and hurried out.
Once the maids had also cleared from the room, Varkas held out a small plate of preserved fruit.
“Eat.”
She met his eyes with pure hatred.
Unfazed, Varkas picked up a piece of honeyed pear and brought it to her lips.
“If you want to fight me like before, go ahead. Whether you thrash or faint, I will keep doing this until you eat.”
Staring hard at him, the woman slowly parted her lips. A sickening wave of relief washed over him, making his fingers falter.
Steeling his unsteady hand, he slipped the fruit between her teeth.
She chewed once or twice, then spat it directly onto the bedsheets.
Varkas’s expression went utterly cold.
Her lips curved into a spiteful sneer.
“Watching you try so hard makes me want to starve even more.”
His fists clenched so tightly his nails dug into his palms.
As though determined to goad the man barely holding back his rage, she rasped,
“Go on. Shove it in. I’ll spit it out every time.”
Then she broke into a thin, deranged giggle. That hollow rattle of laughter shattered what was left of his reason.
Taking the bait, Varkas snatched another piece of fruit from the plate. But as he tried to force it into her mouth, her teeth sank viciously into his finger.
Blood welled where her teeth bit through his skin, but he did not care. An obsession closer to madness seized him.
“Swallow it.”
She glared back, her teeth clamped hard on his finger.
Breathing hard into her defiant face, Varkas spoke through gritted teeth.
“Are you really going to starve yourself over a damn wolf pup?”
That ignited the fuse.
She began thrashing like a trapped animal. Seeing fresh bruises blooming beneath his grip, he swore under his breath and let go.
A sharp crack stung his cheek at the same instant. He glared at her, his eyes turned to ice. Talia, having just struck him, clutched her chest, gasping for breath.
“What do you… what do you know? Khan was everything to me! Because of Khan, I finally… the pain stopped… and I wanted to live…!”
Tears tracked hot down her face.
Bent double and trembling violently, she suddenly threw herself at him.
“And you destroyed that! I begged you…! I begged you to let him live…!”
A shriek, raw and frayed with agony, ripped from her throat.
END