His footsteps disappeared into the trees.
I scrubbed furiously at the mud caked on me, trying to forget his scars. The way my stomach had twisted at the sight of them. My captor didn’t deserve my pity.
But those scars…some wounds didn’t heal.
The heat from the spring faded too quickly. Within minutes, the night had its claws in me. I pressed myself against the bark of a tree, the executioner’s cloak wrapping me.
Even with it, I was cold. I’d spent many nights huddled in the cold with Rheya, but never with wet hair and a soaking dress. The chill cut deep into my bones.
Kairos sat across from me. “It’s not safe to light a fire. Otherwise I would.”
My teeth chattered. “I’m fine.”
I buried my face in my arms, trying to trap more heat. Then I felt the weight of his attention before I heard him move.
“I have runes that generate heat. If you come closer, the warmth will spread to you.”
I poked my head up, meeting his gaze. “How close?”
“Very.”
“No, thank you.”
“Suffer then, if it makes you feel righteous.”
I hated the fae. All of them. I hated their power, their beauty, their lies. And he was the worst of them. Nothing but desperation would ever make me crawl to him.
He sighed heavily. Then he yanked the cloak off me.
Frigid air slapped my face. I lunged after it, furious, but he caught my waist. The blistering heat of his palm scorched through the fabric.
“What are you doing?” I hissed, twisting in his grip.
“You’re freezing,” he growled.
“Of course I am! Give it back!”
He dragged me into his lap.
I stiffened as he folded me into his embrace. He slotted my body between his legs, his arm curling tighter until escape was impossible. His thighs bracketed mine, trapping me.
I couldn’t breathe.
He was a furnace. The dress steamed where it met his touch—every inch of me aware of the muscle in his arms, the steady thrum of his heartbeat, the rock-solid chest.
“Let me go,” I whispered.
“You’d rather freeze than be close to a monster?”
My pulse throbbed in my throat—he had to feel it.
His breath stirred my hair. Then he inhaled.
My skin tingled. “Stop that.”
“Stop what?”
“Scenting me.”
