“Fantastic,” I muttered.
I fumbled for the pins, wincing when sharp metal scraped my scalp, until his hands joined mine. His fingers brushed through my hair, slow and deft, easing pins loose. The sensation made me bite down on my lip, refusing to let him see how much his touch affected me.
“What should I wear tonight?”
“You’ll look like a queen in anything,” he promised me.
My laugh came out sharp. Even he wasn’t that good a liar. “I know what I am, Fear.”
His gaze met mine steadily. “So do I.”
I turned my back on him and walked to the elaborately carved wardrobe on one wall. I ran my fingertips over the silky material of the gowns, in rich jewel-toned blues, purples, greens, and blacks. Bismyth colors. “Do you think I’ll really wear all these?”
It was hard to imagine staying in this world long enough to twirl onthe dance floor in each gown. It was hard to imagine myselfona dance floor. I’d danced a few times in the Twisted Stone—most recently, a quick turn around the floor when Galin had humored me—as a fiddler played, the floorboards uneven under my feet and some man not quite holding me right.
“Yes. I think you’re going to survive, be claimed, be chosen by a dragon.” His voice was low, dark, smooth, and too close. He reached over me to pull out a purple gown. “Wear this one tonight.”
“Are you in the habit of giving me orders?”
“I try. Are you in the habit of taking them?”
I turned to face him, and the silky purple fabric slipped between us. “No.”
“Then it appears we are a match.” He carried the dress toward my bed.
I pulled out a plain black gown with lace sleeves and a low-scooping back. “Kami would have helped me dress.”
“I’ll do her work as my penance then for sending her away.”
“You were rude. Don’t you think eventually her adoration will wear off if you aren’t nice to her?”
“It’s not me she adores. It’s the idea of me.” He took the black gown out of my hands and began to unbutton it, and I had the strange flicker of feeling that he had known I’d choose the black if he chose purple. “I’d rather have your genuine disdain, accompanied by the way you look at me as if you see straight through to my heart.”
“Or rather, straight through to the gaping hole where it should be?” I touched the spot on his chest over that missing heart before I fully realized what I was doing. His chest was so solid, so warm, under my fingertips.
His breath stuttered under my touch. Or maybe not, because he just seemed amused, and maybe I had imagined it. “That’s right.”
I pulled my hand away. We should sleep together and see if it would cure my temptations. Maybe I’d be lucky and he’d be a forgettable fuck.
His hand, warm and heavy, was on my throat, then tilting my face up to his. His golden eyes traced over mine. “Gods, I love that look.”
“Of hatred?” My brows arched.
“Are we going to pretend that’s it? I can if you like, for the sake of your pride. Undress.”
My mind was clearly not keeping up, because I hesitated.
“The dress?” He prompted me, raising the black fabric.
He was so terribly close, distracting me with the warmth of his body and with that smoky scent I was coming to associate with either annoyance or desire, I wasn’t entirely sure which. Perhaps both.
I almost asked him to turn away, but there was that gleam in his golden eyes that felt like a challenge. It felt as if he were saying,I know you want me, mortal.
And I know you wantme,monster.I slid my thumb into the waist of the leggings I’d worn for sleep and slid them down. He watched me as I straightened, stepping out of them. Then I pulled the tunic slowly over my head, and his throat worked as I dropped it to the ground.
“Dress me,” I murmured, holding my arms up like a useless doll, like I’d never been in my life.
The dark material went over my head. His hands slid over the bare skin at my sides, over my hips.
