He woke to silk.
Not the rough cot of a cell. Not stone. Not restraint. Real fabric, cool and smooth beneath his fingers, layered over something firm and expensive. The ceiling above him arched high, carved with pale patterns that caught the light and bent it softly, like dawn trapped in glass.He sat up slowly.
The room was… curated. White, but not the sterile kind. Ivory walls veined faintly with gold. Tall windows framed by sheer curtains that breathed with the air system. A polished table near the bed held water in a crystal carafe, fruit arranged with deliberate care, and folded clothing that was unmistakably his.They were trying to make a point.The door slid open without a sound.
She entered like she owned the space.Dark hair pulled back tight, immaculate coat, expression warm in a way that never reached her eyes. She smiled when she saw him awake, hands folding together as if relieved."Vaelor," she said gently. "You're awake."He didn't answer.He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood, ignoring the faint protest in his ribs. Whatever they'd given him hadn't dulled his balance. That, at least, annoyed them."I'm Doctor Hestrel," she continued, stepping closer but not too close. Smart. "First, I want to apologize. Truly."That finally earned her his attention.An eyebrow lifted. Barely.
"For how you were treated," she went on. "The force. The pressure. What we asked of you. What we… assumed."She sighed, as if the memory weighed on her.
"At the time, we didn't understand. You were caught in the middle of something extraordinary. Something dangerous. But now we know better."
Vaelor folded his arms."You know," he repeated calmly, "that I am human."
She nodded quickly, grateful. "Exactly. Just like us. No enhanced physiology. No altered structure. No… resistance. What you survived was remarkable, but not unnatural."A pause."And we regret pushing you."
He let the silence stretch.The room hummed softly. Somewhere beyond the walls, something heavy moved. He didn't look in that direction. He didn't need to.
"You put a gun to my head," Vaelor said at last, voice level. "You used me as bait. You injured me. You starved me. You forced my hand and called it cooperation."
Her smile tightened.
"We were afraid," she said carefully. "People make mistakes when they're afraid."
He stepped closer. Not threatening. Just enough to remind her he wasn't fragile.
"You should have stayed afraid."
That landed.She cleared her throat, adjusting her posture. "What matters now is that we've corrected course. You're safe here. You'll be cared for. Respected."
Respected.
Vaelor almost laughed."And the creature?" he asked.Her eyes flicked away for half a second. Telling."It responds to you," she said. "Calms when you're present. You have a… unique effect."
"I don't control it."
"No," she agreed softly. "But it recognizes you."
Vaelor's jaw tightened.
"That doesn't make me yours," he said.
"Of course not," she replied smoothly. "It makes you invaluable."There it was.
He turned away from her, gaze settling on the window, the light, the careful illusion of comfort.
"You don't get forgiveness," Vaelor said. "You don't get trust. And you don't get obedience."She watched him closely."What you get," he continued, "is time. And only because things will get much worse for you if I don't stay alive."Her genial expression finally cracked.Just a little.
"And if you forget that," Vaelor added, glancing back at her over his shoulder, "remember this."He didn't raise his voice."It is not afraid of me."
Silence swallowed the room.
Doctor Hestrel nodded slowly. "Rest," she said. "We'll speak again soon."She left.
Vaelor remained standing long after the door sealed shut, listening to the distant, restrained breathing of something that had chosen him.Not as a shield.Not as a weapon.But as something it would not break.
Yet.
———————————————————————-*
I smell him before anything else.
Not close. Not inside. Somewhere beyond the glass and the doors and the places they hide the weak things. The blond one. The quiet one. The one who does not break the way the others do.The room is still too bright. It presses against my eyes, flattens the edges of thought, dulls the rage into something slower. Thicker. I hate it. But I breathe anyway. Long, heavy exhales that make the glass shiver without cracking.They think that means the drug worked.
Idiots.
I rise and move to the wall again, placing the broad flat of my hoof against the glass. No strike. No test. I already know. It does not yield. It does not whisper weakness. It is dead and stubborn and proud of it.Just like them.I turn away.
The body waits where I left it.What remains of the one who spoke wrong.
I lower myself to the floor and hook a piece of torn flesh with the edge of my hoof, dragging it closer. The smell is thick. Iron-heavy. Still warm enough to matter. I bite down and tear.The sound echoes.Wet. Slow. Intentional.I chew.
Across the room, the others stand frozen. Their fear crawls across my back, seeps into the cracks the light can't reach. They do not scream. They learned not to. They learned watching him die.Good.I lift my head while I chew and let my eyes meet theirs. Blood strings from my teeth. My jaw works without hurry. I do not rush meals anymore.
One of them sways.
I smile at that.Not wide. Not loud. Just enough.I swallow.The taste is wrong. Not bad. Just wrong. He should have tasted sweeter. He should have known when to stay silent. He spoke about the blond one like he was nothing. Like he was meat that hadn't learned it yet.That was his mistake.I tear another bite free and eat it while they watch.
The blond one is not here.
I know that.
He is somewhere else. Another room. Another cage. I do not know where. I do not know why they keep him breathing. I do not know his name.But I feel him.
Not fear. Not pain. Something steadier. His body is wrong in a way that does not mean broken. The sharp edge of his presence has dulled. The ache that clung to him before is quieter now.
He feels… better.
My chest tightens at that thought, and I bare my teeth without meaning to.Good.
They did not ruin him.
Yet.
I scrape my hoof against the floor and settle back against the wall, surrounded by blood and silence, and continue eating until there is nothing left worth taking.
Let them stare.Let them remember.I will wait.
And when the blond one is brought back into my sight, breathing and whole, the room will learn again what calm really means.