Pretending I didn’t want him, that his warm body wasn’t close. Pretending I wouldn’t give anything to close the distance. To nestle into his arms and taste his mouth. To feel his hands on me the way they’d been in the forest.
I squeezed my eyes shut, willing sleep to come, but I lay in the darkness, burning.
32
BREAKFAST BEFORE WAR
I woke up surrounded by a cloud of male.
I pressed my face into the pillow, inhaling the delicious scent. Warmth and woods, mixed with…wait. I lifted my head, blinking. I was on Kairos’s side of the bed, his pillow clutched to my chest. How did I get over here?
A shirtless Kairos sat at the table, tearing into breakfast. He grabbed a hunk of bread and ripped it in half. Bit into smoked fish. Licked his fingers.
I sat up, shoving the pillow away.
Kairos glanced over, grunting.
“Morning to you, too.”
“Sleep well?”
“Fine.” I cleared my throat. “You?”
He made a sound and nudged the chair beside him. “Come. Eat.”
I stood, tugging the nightdress down as I padded over. I sat beside him in a slip of fabric that wouldn’t have covered a sneeze. I pulled it down. It rode up my thighs. I yanked again, harder. No use.
Luckily, Kairos seemed completely focused on his food. He bit into an apple, juice running down his wrist.
I nibbled on a wedge of cheese, trying not to look at him. The cheese was delicious. Salty and sharp. Creamy. Definitely worth staring at instead of the expanse of bare chest.
So much muscle, mapped in runes. Most of the markings flowed in elegant coils, but one cut across the rest, centered high on his chest. Black and thick. It covered his entire pectoral muscle, right above his heart.
“What’s that rune?” I asked. “It looks different. The lines are harsher.”
“Every realm has their own method for drawing runes. This one was drawn in Skaldir.”
My stomach dropped. “The king did that to you?”
He nodded. “King Vaeron was curious about an obscure rune. Easier to test it on the executioner than risk a valued court member.”
Cold prickled along my arms. “What does it do?”
“Controls blood flow in other people. I can slow heartbeats until someone drops. Make veins burst.”
My hands clenched on the table. “They had no right.”
“Rights don’t mean much when you’re enslaved.”
“Tell me what happened.”
Shrugging, he set down the bread. “They dragged me to a room in the Arcanum. Strapped me to a table.”
My throat tightened.
“The High Cleric carved every line. Took hours. When he finished, he fused the rune with a spirit. It…didn’t want to be trapped in flesh. Fought the whole way in.”
“Gods.”
