Hideaway Strath Up north’s getting cold soon

I won't, darling. 

There he went, calling her darling as if everything was back to normal. She wanted to roll her eyes at the word, but she didn't; the softness in his tone had her confused once more. She wanted things to be like they were before everything had changed and gotten difficult, and he when he spoke to her that way, it was easy to fool herself into thinking they could be that way. But then flashes of the night he had attacked her assaulted her mind—she couldn't forget the feeling of his teeth ripping into her flesh or how afraid she had been that he would force himself on her; he had used her trauma against her, and it was hard to move past that, no matter how much his softness pulled at her heart. 

Then I'll do better.

The words were soft again, and she wanted to believe him. For some reason, no matter what he had done to her, she wanted to believe him. She couldn't, though—not yet. She was still a captive here, and there was no way he would let her leave. She couldn't ignore the feeling that had risen in her chest with his admission that he would do anything for her. It was like something had tried to pull her from the miserable fog that had taken over her mind and body. As much as she wanted to be free, she also wanted to investigate that feeling—invite it into her heart and see what happened. She was tired of feeling weak, and something about it promised strength and freedom from her suffering. 

She looked over at him, her expression uncertain but her gaze alight with interest. I want to believe you, she finally told him. I really do, but I'm afraid you will use my trust to hurt me again. He had some kind of hold over her, and he had used that against her too many times. Why do you want to do better now? she asked. What was going on in his complicated mind? She could read him well, but she felt like she never fully knew what was going on inside his head.