The anger in his expression slowly faded.
“Goddess, nothing is impossible with us,” he said softly. “You only need to acknowledge the truth. I am not so terrible to behold.”
He was far from terrible. His extremely handsome, unharmed face set my heart racing, and not in fear. This creature wanted me, and even though I knew his reason would likely lead to pain or death, I wanted him to keep wanting me.
Realizing I was walking a dangerous line, I lifted my foot to step over his head. At the last second, I recalled my skirt and my lack of underwear. He scowled up at me when I set my foot down once more, and I could see the storm brewing in his eyes.
And yet, I still maintained my own will.
I rubbed a hand over my face and slowly sank to my knees beside him. How could I feel so tired already? I wanted to crawl back into that bed, without C’adon, and pull the covers over my head and just stay there forever. Maybe that was what the woman on the bed had done. He’d worn her down with his crazy until she’d chained him to the wall so she could lay there in peace until she died.
I could imagine C’adon’s eagerness for the chains. Anything to please her and get the attention he craved. I could also imagine his anguish when she’d died. What a sad thought.
Realizing my thoughts had drifted, I focused on him once more and saw his anger was gone. In its place, he studied me with a mixture of hope and suspicion in his expression. What a poor pair of messed up individuals we were. I didn’t trust him, and he couldn’t trust me to give him what he wanted. Or could he?
He’d yelled at me, kissed me, slept next to me. But he hadn’t hurt me or forced anything. I didn’t believe for a second that it would last, but for now, maybe I could give him a little for everything he’d given me.
My gaze shifted from his eyes to study his face. He possessed a chiseled perfection with features I could stare at for hours without complaint. Perfectly arched dark brows. Thick, dark lashes. A mouth that was temptingly full. And eyes that demanded my attention because of the depth of pain and longing in them.
“She sees me,” he whispered.
I did, and gods he was beautiful. He still terrified me, though.
Shifting my gaze from his face, I skimmed his torso and settled on his arm. Specifically, his wrist. Days of wearing the shackle had rubbed the skin beneath raw. I didn’t know why he hadn’t healed himself. He’d already shown that he could. Perhaps he had, and it continued to hurt. Or perhaps it was a trick, a way to lure me closer. A single show of pity might be all that he needed to make me his.
“I am yours,” he said. “Do with me as you will.”
I swallowed hard and stood. Or tried too. He caught my arm, his fingers snapping like a vise around my wrist, preventing me from fully straightening. “Do not leave. You will give me what I desire and obtain what you desire. Or are you so desperate for a reprieve that you would shed your mortality for an eternity?”
I had no idea what he meant by that but could feel the anger radiating from him. His flushed face lifted toward me, projecting enough menace that it was impossible to not feel fear. Yet, I managed to use my free hand to motion for him to stand.
His anger vanished, and he gracefully rose without removing his hold on my wrist.
“Do you end your game?” His attention shifted to the room behind me and the bed. “Will you freely give yourself to me?”
Frozen, I stared up at his perfect face and knew I was in a heap of trouble. I had no intention of giving myself to him, but if I indicated that in any way, I’d probably find myself buried under seven stories of stone.
When his gaze claimed mine, I dipped my trembling fingers into my dress for the key, hoping a show of kindness would be enough for him.
He scowled harder.
“You take as you give, determined to steal every trace of joy I might find in your presence.”
Unsure what he meant by that, I looked down and fit the key into the lock. The metal fell free with a clatter on the stone at our feet. He made a pained sound, and his hold on my wrist tightened fractionally. I glanced at his other hand fisted at his side. He released me and lifted that wrist so I could remove the shackle there, too.
The bang of it hitting the floor sounded like a gong in the silence.
I hadn’t expected any thanks, but his reaction was the opposite of what I’d hoped. Fists clenched and chest heaving, he stood there looking like he was two seconds from bringing the building down. How could I have possibly made things worse by freeing him?
My gaze dropped to the key I still held, and I wanted to smack myself. Of course. His treasure.
He hadn’t actually given it back to me just now. He wanted me to return it. Willingly. And what had I done after all his talk about willingness? I hadn’t returned it. I’d flaunted my use of it.
I didn’t want to lose it, but given the circumstances, I didn’t want to press my luck in keeping it either. So I held it out to him.
His breathing calmed. His fists unclenched.
Slowly, he plucked the key from my grasp.
