I nod.
“And your preciousfrienddid nothing?”
I shake my head.
“So help me God…” He tears himself away from me, swearing under his breath. He paces the length of the room with his muscular chest rising in anger, his deliberate steps claiming each section of the floor with power and dominance.
He stops before the completion of his next step and glances at me. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” I answer immediately. I didn’t think he would react this way. I genuinely wanted to know if that was normal, but seeing him boil over in fury is as flattering as it is confusing. Does he actually mean to show me he cares? Because, if this reaction is anything, it’s concern for me.
He nods and continues to pace.
“Is it normal?” I ask. Standing up to intervene in his narrow pathway of agitated pacing. “To strike a woman? Is it acceptable?”
He stops in front of me, eyes falling to my expression, which fails to hide my fear.
“Yes, it’s normal, and it’s acceptable tothissociety,” he states clearly, lowering his gaze to level with mine. “But no, it’s not normal. It’s not acceptable. It’s unforgivable—tome.”
I tread backward, sinking back into my seat. “I am never to escape the violent hands of a man, am I?”
If I have to go through it again, I might die of despair.
Dessin kneels to my side urgently. “Look at me,” he orders, “if he ever strikes you… You tell me immediately. I will cut off every piece of him that he believes makes him a man and shove it into his mouth until he asphyxiates.”
My mouth hangs open in shock from the finely painted visual.
“For his sake, I hope it never comes to that,” I say.
He looks away, taking in a choppy breath, trying to calm down.
“Do you believe in soul mates?” I ask.
His tightened jaw and furrowed brow fade away like a cloud from a hot summer sky. A side smirk of amusement tempts his lips.
“Soul mates?”
“I was told today that we spend our lives searching for another soul that we are divinely made for. And the love that is born between the two cannot be mistaken for anything else.” Why have I decided to share Niles’s love advice? Not sure, it spilled out without any rhyme or reason, ejecting from my throat like a tidal wave. “I asked, how do you know if you’ve found them? And they said—because once you have, there is no life without them.”
Dessin stares at me, licking his lips as he tilts his head to the side.
“Why are you telling me this?”
“I want to know if you believe in soul mates.”
“I have never thought about it.”
“That’s a shame.”
“I can imagine you heard this theory from the patient in room four. The magical cherub that shoots arrows in asses.” I force down the tickle of amusement, the smile wanting to spread. “Do you believe in it?” he asks.
“I want to. The notion of someone who understands me—protects me—knows my heart well is—beautiful. I hope it’s true.” And I mean it. I wonder if there will ever be a human alive who knows my heart, passions, secrets, and demons through and through.
But I stare a moment too long, and there’s a question that sings like a violin between us. The one neither of us wants to acknowledge, but it’s here, all the same, waiting to be noticed.
35. The King’s Move
Scarlett used to say thatmen only have one motive on their minds. Procreation. There is no romance. No passion. No pure forms of love. It’s all for show, a performance of theatrical arts to get us to spread our legs.
