"Arina, do you want a slice of cake? It's your favorite." Carlisle smiled as he pushed the plate forward.
Arina glanced at the plate and then shifted her attention to the plate next to it. That plate held some sweet buns. They were not her favorite, but better than nothing. She would no longer fall for his antics. She was not a dumb bird. She reached out and grabbed a sweet bun from the plate. The chain clanking behind her. She hated the chains. She tugged at the shackle that circled her wrist in annoyance.
Carlisle's hand covered her hand gently and stopped her hand from tugging at the shackle. Her forearm was also exposed from her struggle. Tiny scars littered both of her forearms. Carlisle saw the scars on her arm and stared at them. Pain seemed to prick at his heart.
After a moment he finally said, "Don't tug at the shackle. The skin around your wrist is chafed. See, it's all red."
