Page 26 of Broken & Bound

Her gaze flickered, but it didn’t find mine. I reached for her, rubbing my hands up and down her arms, steady and firm without gripping.

“Stay with me,” I said. “Right here. You are safe. I’m here with you. Nothing and no one will ever hurt you. You’re not a captive any more.”

Her breath hitched again, faster now. Too fast. She was spiraling. All the classic signs were there. I was well versed in them thanks to the Death Squad.

“Breathe with me,” I instructed, slowing my own inhale deliberately. “In—slow.”

She didn’t follow it at first. Didn’t even seem to hear it. I ripped my shirt off and pulled her hand up to my chest and took slow, deep, even breaths.

“If you can’t look at me, look at your artwork. Do you see the lion? You put it there. Start at the top. Trace the crown for me as we breath together. In, Princess.”

Relief washed over me as the smoothed end of the stick in her hand moved across my skin. I fought a flinch as she dug it in a little.

“Now out, that’s a girl. Keep tracing as we breathe together.”

Her breath stuttered, then steadied just enough to catch onto mine. Her eyes flicked up, her hand moving steady against my skin. Our eyes were locked and our breathing synced in real time.

“Perfect. You’re doing so well. In, again for me, please.” A pause. “And out.”

Gradually the panic faded, and her shoulders dropped a fraction. The stick grew lighter, but still moved with muscle memory as she moved onto the mane.

“That’s it,” I murmured. “Stay here with me.”

Color returned slowly to her face, the tightness in her chest easing in increments instead of all at once. She swallowed hard, her grip tightening around the stick before loosening again.

“I can’t do it,” she said, the words quiet but clear this time.

Her eyes searched mine, like she was waiting for resistance—like she owed me an explanation.

“I thought I could go down there. I really did.”

“Okay. And that’s all right.”

She drew in another breath, deeper this time. “If I go down there… I don’t think I’ll come back the same.”

Her truth sat heavy between us. It was honest and full of so much clarity that I was astonished. I tucked it away so that I could share it with Marcel. A tremendous amount of pride filled my heart. She knew exactly where her line was and understood to force it would end in disaster.

This was her boundary. And she wasn’t crossing it. At least not today. This place had taken too much from her already. Stripped her down to nothing more than an object for sick and twisted people.

She tucked the small stick inside her pocket before reaching for me again. Her fingers closed around mine with more urgency than before.

“Will you…could you—”

I didn’t hesitate. “Whatever you need. I’m here, princess.”

“If everything is still there from that night, the eight most important paintings will be in our rooms. I only want what is mine,” she sobbed before throwing herself against me.

I caught her, pulling her in close, one hand settling at the back of her head as I held her there. The tremors running through her hadn’t fully faded. Her breath was uneven where it pressed against me.

“All right,” I murmured. “Take your time. I’ve got you.”

She stayed that way for a moment, gathering herself in pieces, her grip tightening on my forearms before slowly easing again. When I felt her settle enough to stand on her own, I drew back just enough to look at her.

“Could you draw me a map? I will go inside and get them.”

“Yes. I’d need my sketch pad though.”

“I’ll run around and grab what you need from the car.”