Chapter 4: Something To Help You Sleep

I did not sit.

Jörgen stayed between me and the door. Yvonne remained near it, one hand still on the handle like she might change her mind and open it again. The knife felt small in my grip. The bag strap cut into my shoulder.

"I said get out," I repeated.

Jörgen's expression did not change. "You are not thinking clearly. That is understandable. But you need to hear the full shape of this before you do something permanent."

"I already saw the full shape. You were inside her. That was permanent enough."

Yvonne flinched. Jörgen did not.

"The alliance with Stormvik is the only thing keeping Lindholm from sliding further," he said. "My father has staked his name on it. Yvonne's family has staked money. If you walk out of this house tonight and anyone connects the timing to what you saw, the whole thing collapses. Traders pull out. Debts get called. People lose positions. Some of those people will not care that you were hurt. They will only care that you opened your mouth."

"I already told you I am not going to talk."

"And I already told you that is not a risk we can take."

He took one step closer.

I raised the knife a fraction. "That is far enough Jörgen. I will plunge this knife into your wicked hard, do not test me!"

He stopped.

"Put it down," he said. "You are not a fighter, Maria. You never were. You survive by staying quiet and staying small. That is what you are good at. So be good at it one more time. Stay in this room for three days. Keep your head down. Let the papers get signed. After that you can disappear and none of us will come looking."

Yvonne spoke from the door, voice thin. "He is telling the truth. We only need time."

I looked at her. The same woman who had braided my hair when we were girls. The same woman who had sat with me the night my mother died. Her eyes were red. She would not hold my gaze for long.

"You were my friend," I said.

Her mouth trembled. "I still am. That is why I am asking you to do this."

The laugh that came out of me was short and ugly. "Friends do not fuck the man their friend is sleeping with and then lock her in a room to protect the arrangement."

Jörgen's jaw flexed. "Enough."

He moved faster than I expected. One step, then his hand closed around my wrist and twisted. Pain shot up my arm. The knife hit the floor with a dull clatter. I tried to pull free. He held on, not hard enough to break anything, just hard enough to make the message clear.

"Sit down," he said again.

I wrenched my arm. He let go. I stayed on my feet.

Yvonne had not moved from the door. Her eyes were wide now. She looked like she wanted to be anywhere else.

Jörgen picked up the knife, turned it once in his hand, and set it on the small table out of my reach. Then he reached into his pocket and took out a small glass vial. The liquid inside was dark.

My stomach turned.

"What is that?"

"Something to help you sleep," he said. "You are not going to spend the next three days pacing and planning exits. You are going to rest. When you wake up the worst of this will already be moving past us."

"You are not putting that in me."

"I am not asking."

He stepped toward the cracked washbasin where a half-full cup of water still sat from earlier. I lunged for the door. Yvonne blocked it with her body, face pale, hands raised like she hated what she was doing. I shoved her. She staggered but did not move aside. Jörgen's arm hooked around my waist from behind and hauled me back.

I fought. Elbow. Heel. Whatever I could reach. He took the hits without comment and kept moving me toward the cot. Yvonne's breathing had gone sharp and scared.

"Jörgen, maybe we should—"

"Quiet."

He forced me down onto the cot. One knee pinned my thigh. His hand covered my mouth when I tried to shout. The vial was already open. Bitter liquid hit my tongue. I tried to spit. He held my jaw shut until I had no choice but to swallow or choke.

The taste was metallic and wrong.

He kept his hand over my mouth for several long seconds after. I glared at him over his fingers. My heart was slamming so hard I could feel it in my ears.

When he finally let go I turned my head and spat what I could onto the floor. It was not enough. The bitterness was already spreading.

"You bastard," I whispered.

"Three days," he said. His voice had gone flat again. "That is all. Then you can hate me from somewhere far away."

Yvonne still stood by the door. She would not look at me.

Warmth started to crawl up the back of my neck. My thoughts slowed around the edges. I tried to sit up. My arms felt heavier than they should.

Jörgen watched me the way someone watches a problem that is finally under control.

"Sleep," he said. "When you wake up we will talk again."

I wanted to tell him there would be no talking. I wanted to tell him I would make both of them pay for this. The words would not form properly. The room tilted. The lamp light smeared.

Yvonne's voice reached me from a distance. "Is it supposed to work this fast?"

"It works," Jörgen answered.

I tried to keep my eyes open. The last clear thing I saw was his face looking down at me without any of the softness he had shown me three nights ago in the storage room.

Then the dark took me.

I did not know, as I went under, that while I slept they would leave my room and begin the work of making sure I could never leave at all.

I did not know that by the time the drug finished with me, the Alpha King's pregnant consort would already be dead, and every piece of evidence would point at the woman who had simply wanted to walk away.