Page 24 of Glutton for Punishment

“Is there any way…” He breaks off, breath catching. “Could you—could you come closer to the bars? Come over to me?”

The desperation in his eyes hit me hard. It’s the same ache I felt when I stumbled out of the sensory chamber and searched the monitor for his face. He needs to see me up close. Needs proof.

“Yeah,” I whisper. “Okay.”

I crawl toward the bars as best I can.

Somewhere in my mind, an old, half-forgotten memory flickers—of the dreams I used to have back at the academy. Fun dreams. Secret dreams, where I was crawling toward Atticus Willshire for entirely different reasons.

My cheeks heat as I give myself a reality check. Those dreams were nothing like this and probably influenced by the bond.

Not that they weren’t fun…

Unfortunately, I can’t afford to be distracted by naughty thoughts while I’m being held prisoner and tortured.

When I reach the bars, he threads his hands through them, gentle despite the strength I know they carry. His palms cup the back of my head, fingers sliding into my hair, and he pulls me closer until my forehead rests against his.

He closes his eyes.

Up close, I notice the way his lashes fan against his cheeks, the tension draining from his face. Even here—bruised, caged, hollow-eyed—he’s devastatingly beautiful.

His breath ghosts across my lips with each exhale. It’s not meant to be sensual…

Nevertheless, my stomach flutters.

I close my eyes too, letting my weight settle into the bars and listen as his breathing evens out, slow and steady.

“I’m sorry,” I breathe. The words scrape out of me before I can stop them. “I’m so sorry, Atticus. I should never have let you come with me to the trial. You wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for—”

“Don’t,” he cuts me off.

“Don’t say that,” he says, his voice low but absolute. “I would never let you face the Council alone. Not for a second. Those people are cutthroat vultures, Arwen. And I would never leave my bond with them.”

My bond.

I’m still not used to that title.

We still haven’t talked about Maddox even though he knows about my newly completed bond. He saw it happen firsthand. I swallow, my throat tight.

“I still don’t like it,” I mumble. “As Pride’s heir, you’d probably be safer rotting in the Wastes than stuck in Greed’s dungeon.”

He doesn’t hesitate to respond. “The only place I should be is with you.” His gaze holds mine, unflinching. “I should’ve been with you the whole time.”

I know what he means. The academy. The months of distance, of cold shoulders and colder words. I don’t let myself linger there. There are more important things to focus on right now.

Shifting, I push myself upright, and he releases me. The loss of his warmth stings more than I expect.

“The only thing that matters now is getting out,” I say, forcing steadiness into my voice. “We need a plan.”

His posture changes—shoulders squaring, eyes sharpening. “Tell me everything that happened. Every detail.”

I tell him everything that I remember. The lift. The lab. Glass rooms.

I focus on the layout and skim over the torture chair. He’s already been through enough, not knowing where I was. I just give him the facts, all the way up to the moment everything went black.

When I finish, he exhales, dragging a hand down his face. “This isn’t great,” he says. “Wherever this place is, it sounds big. Heavily secured.”

Something clicks in my head.