“You were in danger.”
“I could’ve handled it,” I snap. “I would’ve screamed.”
“Would you?” His voice is cold. “With his hand over your mouth?”
My throat tightens. I hate that he’s right. I lift my chin. “You didn’t need to make me your servant.”
“No. I didn’t.”
“Then why?”
He stands. The room feels smaller. “Because I can.”
There it is.
King.
I laugh, sharp. “That’s your favorite excuse?”
“Watch your tone.”
“Why? Going to throw me against a wall too?”
His eyes flash. Then he stops inches from me. “I don’t have to hurt people to make them bend.”
My breath catches.
I step back. “I’m not bending. I’m not one of your loyal fans.”
His mouth quirks. “You keep saying that, but you’re still here.”
“Because it’s my job.”
His eyes flick to my lips. Back to my eyes. “Is it?”
My pulse hammers.
“If you needed a personal attendant, you could’ve picked anyone.”
“And yet I didn’t,” he says. “I picked you.”
Anger and heat twist together. “You’re making this hard on purpose,” I mutter.
“I’m not the one arguing.”
That’s it. I’m through with this game. “You’re being an asshole.”
The room goes silent.
Orpheus freezes, stunned like no one’s ever dared.
My heart pounds, but I don’t back down. “You ordered I be sent up here, away from the job I was actually hired to do,” I say, voice shaking but strong, “and you didn’t tell me why. You keep ordering me around like I’m a toy. If you want something, say it. If you need something, ask. But don’t do this.”
“You’re speaking to the King,” he says.
“Then act like one.” The words land heavily.
He inhales slowly. Then he smiles.
