“You haven't touched your food.”
The tines of Max' fork scraped across his plate.
Barely able to stomach the smell of the food, much less take a bite, Alice considered the fact that she was a trapped woman, held captive to a man because of the love she had for him and the failure she’d faced when she’d attempted to escape. Unsure that she’d ever find happiness in a life where women died so that she wouldn’t suffer the abuse of a monster, she looked up into the face of her husband. Based on his certainty that she would eventually accept the life he was creating for her, she had no choice but to believe it as well.
"I'm not hungry," she admitted, her voice so soft it was barely audible to her own ears.
Max' fork fell to his plate. The small sound was jarring in the quiet room, Alice's eyes drawn up to see the silent anger in the gaze of her husband.
"You'll eat when I tell you to."
The light blonde of her eyelashes fluttered over her vision. "But if I'm not -"
She couldn't finish the thought, not with the way his hand clenched over her face, her cheeks painful against her teeth, her eyes as wide as the beautiful saucers that sat on the table.
She'd wondered why he'd chosen to sit on the chair next to her rather than at the head of the table. She didn't have to wonder any longer. He remained in reach of her in case the opportunity arose where he would have to correct her behavior.
The monster had returned, and it was in need of an outlet where it could sharpen its lethal claws.
Leaning in, his expression - the flared nostrils and sharp cut of his cheekbones - was a barely controlled threat of rage. However, his eyes remained lazy, the light blue color hazed over as he studied the terror that ran in small quakes across her body. She'd never understood that emotion could be a physical thing, but her silence didn't disguise her fear, not with the prickles that ran across her skin or the blood that rushed to her cheeks as tears wept from her unblinking eyes.
"When I tell you to eat, you eat. You won't be allowed to wither away in this house. You won't destroy the body that now belongs to me. I won't let you."
If he'd screamed the words, they would have been less menacing than the cold way in which he'd spoken them in that moment. Like the blade of a sharply honed knife, they sliced across her senses, opening her up in places she'd rather remain hidden from the world.
She knew then that this is what the monsters could do when they got you alone. They tore you to pieces slowly, methodically, because they had all the time in the world. If only she’d known what to do when you woke up in the monster’s arms. She’d never had the chance to run or refuse. She’d been seduced into loving him without knowing the threat was there. And now she was stripped from the world. Alone. Terrified. At the mercy of a man that had captivated her when she hadn’t been aware.
With one hand, he held her, his fingers clamped down on her cheeks until her lips were pressed open from the strength of his grip. Picking a piece of food from her plate, he slipped it between her lips, the spices he'd used to cook it a burst of flavor inside her mouth. Releasing his grip on her face, he sat back, studying her as the small bit of meat sat lingering against her tongue.
"Chew, Alice."
Hating herself for fighting against that small spark of rebellion within her, she did as she was told. Swallowing down the bite took effort, and when it finally slid past the knot in her throat, it fell like a boulder into her stomach, writhing in the churning acid of her fear.
When she didn't move to take another bite, her fork lying useless against the delicate pattern of the plate, he lifted a questioning brow. "Should I continue to feed you myself? Or do you think you can manage without being forced?"
A veiled threat, a tender question. The dichotomy of one against the other was staggering. She didn't want to eat, didn't think it was possible to force another crumb past the throat that restrained her silent scream. But what choice did she have?
Only the one he gave her.
Fifteen minutes passed, Max' eyes set and focused on the small woman as she picked at the breakfast on her plate. He studied every movement she made, the food she selected, the manner in which she chewed slowly and thoroughly to ensure she didn't choke on the nutrients he'd prepared for her body.
Had it been up to her, she would have starved that body until there was nothing left but skin and bone. It was the only escape she could imagine from a life torn between love and the bitter truth of death.
"Thank you," he whispered, his hand coming across the plate to rest on her own. The fork dropped from her fingers, her head bowed so that only the scraps of food left on the plate were visible to her tear filled eyes.