Breaking Point

Chapter Eighteen: Breaking Point

Nora's POV

I sat on the cold stone floor, my back pressed against the cold wall, arms wrapped tightly around myself.

Dorian paced in front of me, his dark eyes burning with frustration.

He held a tray of food, the scent of the roasted meat filling the room.

But I didn't move.

I wouldn't eat.

Not from him.

He had tried this before. Bringing food, pretending to care, acting as if he was doing me some kind of favor.

I wasn't fooled.

I was angry.

I was starving.

But I would rather die than let him win.

I lifted my chin, staring at him with pure defiance.

His grip tightened on the tray, jaw clenching.

"Eat." His voice was calm, but laced with warning.

I smirked. "Make me."

His eyes flashed with anger.

The next second, he threw the tray across the room, food splattering against the walls, the metal plate clattering to the ground.