Forcing my gaze to meet his, I sucked in a deep, rattling breath. “You were protecting your family. I understand that, Kaius.”
His brows pinched together. “It doesn’t make it right. I should have never laid a hand on you without your expressed consent.”
Rolling my eyes. “How do you know I would let you?”
Kaius’s eyes darkened as he scanned me over, sending goose bumps prickling across my skin. He moved his thumb down my cheek to rest in the center of my bottom lip. With a light push, he separated my lips, and I unconsciously wrapped them around his thumb, softly sucking against the skin.
He smirked knowingly. “Lucky guess, kitten.”
And just like that, reality hit me square in my chest. I jerked away from Kaius, skin flushing with embarrassment and anger at myself. I was not supposed to let myself enjoy the touch of a killer. It wasn’t part of the plan, and until I could separate my heart from that fire burning in the pit of my stomach, Icouldn’t let him touch me like that. When he did, I wanted to be detached, for the act of pleasure to mean nothing to me. But right now, it would mean everything to me.
This wasn’t some twisted fairy tale.
I wasn’t the broken girl who found safety in the arms of a monster. I was going to be the one who lit the match to the fire, which burned the Knights’ kingdom.
And I was falling for the man who would burn with me when it was not a part of the plan.
Kaius’s hands lingered in the air where I had been seconds ago. Slowly, he lowered them, understanding in his eyes as he stood. He didn’t try to touch me again as he spoke, “You can sleep here tonight.”
And with that, he turned on his heel, stalking into the connected bathroom. Maybe that was the kindest thing he could’ve done for me. Leave me alone with my thoughts, wrapped up in a blanket that smelled like him. Because if he had reached for me again tonight, I might have found peace in the violence that was Kaius Mordred. Then all this scheming would have been for nothing.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
acelynn
A dull achepulsed behind my eyes as I peeled them open. The space around me slowly came into focus—an unfamiliar ceiling, soft sheets, and the scent of the man who had filled my dreams still clinging to my skin.
My body felt heavy, like I’d been sinking in dreams that wouldn’t let go. I turned my head. The spot beside me in the bed was empty and cold. Covers untouched or rumpled, which meant I hadn’t been out for very long.
I drifted my gaze toward the open bathroom door. The faint hiss of running water could be heard just beyond the wall. Steam curled into the room like lazy fingers. A dim light cast on Kaius, who stood shirtless in front of the sink, a loose towel slung low around his hips, head slightly bowed as he braced both hands on the porcelain.
My eyes traced the sculpted lines of his back, each muscle flexing subtly beneath his skin as he shifted his weight. Hisshoulders were broad, built like a man who’d carried more than his share of burdens on them. Strength coiled through every inch of him, but it was the ink that held my attention.
His skin was a canvas of dark, inked art. Tattoos climbed up his spine and shoulders like creeping vines, ancient symbols woven with violent beauty. But the one etched between his shoulder blades stole the breath from my lungs. The Knights’ sigil stood out against all the other pieces marring his skin. The cracked holy grail was shaded in just the right way that it appeared to jump from the surface.
The crooked crown hung off one side of the rim like it had been carelessly discarded over the cup. He had no other color through his other tattoos, making the purple hemlocks blooming around the base of the grail stand out even more. Delicate yet fatal, their petals curled up the cup like they were reaching for something just out of reach.
It made the deadly symbol look beautiful and terrifying without even trying.
I continued to admire the art until I noticed something. Underneath the ink, faint, almost hidden by the black swirl of lines, were scars. Pale ridges of flesh, some thin, others jagged, running like ghosts under the Knights’ sigil. They were old.
Wounds that had healed over time, only to be buried beneath ink.
I sat slowly, eyes locked on a particularly long scar that ran from below his left shoulder blade to his right hip. “Those weren’t from a fight, were they?”
Kaius didn’t flinch or look surprised at my sudden question. As if he had known the entire time I was watching him, like he wanted me to see them. His eyes met mine in the mirror. “No.”
His voice was a deadly quiet that sucked all the air from the room. I turned, letting my feet rest against the cold floor belowthe bed. My hands gripped the sheet, pulling it around me as I spoke. “Who did that to you?”
“My father,” he said through clenched teeth.
The words hung there between us. I knew it was the reality of the life he had grown up in. Alec was always littered with bruises and cuts from my father. It was something that shouldn’t be so normal for me to understand. I stood now, letting the sheet trail after me as I went. When I got to the doorframe, I leaned one shoulder against it, unsure if I was invited into the space. Into this highly personal piece of him, but something in the center of my chest refused to let me move away.
Kaius straightened, running one hand through his damp hair. “My father wasn’t the type of man who believed in second chances. Or weakness. Especially not from his children.”
He turned toward me fully. The light of the bathroom cast a golden glow across his chest, highlighting every scar, every sharp edge, every dark line etched into him.
“I started to earn these the night I turned ten,” Kaius continued, voice even.
