Ryleigh had been silvered enough times to know exactly what to expect, but though her experience prepared her for the pain, it did nothing to help her bear it.

Every time she thought she was past the worst, her fever would rise or the silver would make her regurgitate everything she managed to eat, and anytime the pain went down, she knew it would flare up at its earliest convenience again. It was the kind of pain that trickled into every fibre of her being, that enveloped her mind like a storm cloud and drowned her faculties. The mere act of breathing was a feat she didn't quite know how to accomplish. She didn't even have enough air to scream.

All she was able to do was writhe in agony, breathing in small pants. The chains didn't help, either. They restricted her movements and kept her pinned in the same painful position. It was all too much to handle, until it wasn't.

The change was so sudden it took her breath away and threw her into a half lucid state, waking her up from feverish dreams. One moment pain tore through her like a rogue through their prey, the next it slammed to a halt. The stinging in her head died down to a manageable pulsing, and the wildfire in her veins suffocated into embers. She wasn't comfortable, not at all, but she could think through the pain. It was that regained ability, too, that helped her realise the cause of her sudden eased state. Austin.

She felt his fingers trailing as feather-light impressions across her cheek as he brushed a lock of hair out of her face. She would have snapped her eyes open and told him to keep his hands to himself, but that meant the pain would come back at full force. She wasn't mentally ready for its return. That's why, when he pulled back, a whimper slipped past her lips. She didn't have to open her eyes to know he was standing right at her bedside, leaning over her. His smell was surrounding her, lying over her like a blanket, and it might very well have been the only thing that kept her sane.

The embers flared up, consuming her veins and setting her lungs on fire. She clenched her eyes shut and jerked at her chains in an attempt to claw at her chest, but they didn't give that far and jerked her hands back to her sides.

"Easy," he said, grabbing her wrists and stilling them. "You'll hurt yourself."

She would have barked a laugh if she'd had the breath to do so. Nothing that she could do to herself would hurt more than what had already been done to her. When he took hold of her hands – unwelcome as his touch was to her – the pain diminished again and a breath of relief slipped past her lips. Until he pulled away once more. Was he so daft as not to realise that his touch helped her? Or was he so cruel that he did not only allow her to get silvered but insisted she lived through every bit of the torture as well?

A chair scraped over the floor and the air shifted when he sat down, his scent wafting closer around her. Next, his hand slipped into hers, and she realised he was just a slow learner. Within minutes, she had drifted into a fretful sleep again.

She wasn't sure how long she slept, but when she woke the second time, she was lucid. The fever brought on by the silver had gone down again, though with how her skin radiated heat, she could tell it wasn't gone yet. Austin's hand was still in hers and she could manage the pain. In fact, she could manage well enough that her desperation had room to turn to rage. What business did he have to be holding her hand?

She opened her eyes into slits, afraid she'd be met with bright light, but it was dark around her. Craning her neck, she caught sight of a window behind her and saw it was deep in the night. She turned back and her eyes landed on her mate.

He was asleep, leaning forward in his chair, his head resting on the edge of the mattress, his fingers bent around hers lightly. He looked peaceful, his features soft and relaxed. Up until that point she hadn't taken the time to really look at him beyond what she could see with a glance. From the start she had disregarded him as the man who had cruelly left her to rot in prison and only brought her to his pack because his lover told him he had to, but right then she saw another side of him. A softer side, one that told her he wasn't heartless. It dismayed her, because she'd tried really hard to make a monster out of him. She'd known, realistically, he was just as much a victim of their mate bond as her, but she hadn't acknowledged that fact yet. Still, victim or not, she wasn't willing to strengthen their bond even further by touching him, no matter how much it helped her.

With a deep breath, she pulled her hand from his, sucking in a tortured breath as the pain awoke from its slumber. Austin stirred at the lack of contact, a crease forming between his brows. Ryleigh dug her nails into the frame of her bed, a million needles coursing through her body. The pain lasted longer every time she was silvered, as her body was less and less equipped to fight it. She fisted the sheets and groaned through clenched teeth.

The sound reached Austin's sleeping mind and roused him. His eyelids fluttered before slowly blinking open, clouding in confusion for a moment before he remembered where he was. His eyes found hers and widened with the realisation that she was awake. He sat up instantly and cleared his throat, running a hand through his unruly hair.

"You're awake," he said. "Ridge linked me that you took a turn for the worse. My touch seemed to help you. You look a little better now." He paused. "Carry said you've been talking to her and Ridge. I'm not going to lie, it makes me wonder why you'll speak to anyone but me."

Rather than answer him, she looked down at her hands and at the red rings of chafed skin surrounding her wrists. The silver in the cuffs was itching, though the irritation was nothing compared to the discomfort of the rest of her body. She sat up, slowly, weakly, and propped her pillow against the headboard of the bed so she could lean against it, gasping as every movement empowered the fire in her veins.

"Will you really not talk to me?" he asked, raising a brow.

She scoffed and turned her head from him, eying the cup of water on the nightstand. She reached for it and got ever so close, but then the chain attached to her cuff pulled tight and stopped her just short. Austin jumped up, circled around her bed, and handed her the cup. She took it, easing into her pillow, and wrapped both hands around it.

He sat down again, his eyes never leaving her. His eyes were gentle, which freaked Ryleigh out. It would have been easier to keep herself detached if his eyes weren't so warm.

"I understand you're upset," he said. "Conall silvering you was a bad move and I didn't clear it. In his defence, though, you were out of control. You would have hurt someone. You did hurt someone, in fact." He sighed. "What I'm trying to say is that I get you blame me for some of your discomfort, but you need to take some of the responsibility. You're a prisoner because you're a criminal, and you've been silvered – at least here – because you were a threat to others. I can't speak to how King Alder treated you and whether he was right or not, but you shouldn't redirect your anger about that towards me. I've treated you as well as I could."

She chuckled and nearly choked on her water, coughing. Hastily pushing the cup back onto the table beside her bed, she snatched the cloth from beside her and pressed it against her lips, averting her gaze from him.

"Carry said you've been coughing up silver," Austin said, when Ryleigh's lungs calmed down enough to allow conversation again. She wiped her mouth with the cloth and crumpled it, her fingers fumbling with the edges.

On the other side of the infirmary, a door creaked open and Ridge appeared from it. He was dressed in his night apparel, his hair a mess, his feet bare. He stifled a yawn and leant against the doorpost. "Heard the coughing. You alright?"

Her features softened when she looked at Ridge, some of the perpetual anger easing from her face. She nodded.

"If I ask how much silver you just threw up, will you tell me?"

She stayed quiet, glancing towards her mate.

"Ah, I see. Your mate renders you speechless, huh? Fine, but we'll have a talk in the morning. Holler if you need anything. Try not to keep her up too long, Beta." He turned and disappeared back into his room, muttering to himself about recalcitrant patients.

Austin lapsed into silence for a while. Then: "I don't even know your name."

Ryleigh shot him an apathetic glance. He slumped in his chair and sighed. He wasn't sure what to say next and she wasn't exactly inviting conversation. 

"How's the pain? If you want, I can... I mean, I could..."

She only lightly shook her head, a warning look in her eyes.

"Didn't think so." He looked away at the window. At length he sighed and turned back to her. "Look, I get that you're angry at your situation, but will you really not say something? Anything?"

Ryleigh's eyes flitted up to meet his. She had trouble placing him. On the one hand, he was trying hard to connect with her. On the other hand, she knew he was only doing so because his lover had told him to. He wasn't genuinely interested in her and they both knew it. And that being so, if he insisted she talk, there was only one thing she had to say to him.

"I reject y–"

________

A/N: As far as first words go, Austin probably won't soon forget these. 

Thanks for reading!