I walked toward my room, and the door’s click, followed by a soft shutting sound, echoed behind me. As I passed Draven’s room, I flipped him off, but the gesture didn’t ease my frustration.
Moron. I hoped he would rot in hell—no, in the Underworld, since apparently Hell didn’t exist.
Annoyed, I scoffed and entered my room, the door latching shut behind me. Before I could collapse onto the bed, the sight of a red velvet box elegantly secured with a crimson ribboncaught my attention. I moved my fingers over the fancy package, stealing a glance at 226688.
“What is this?”
He came to me, clapping his hands. “Open it!”
My face twisted into a reluctant expression. I untied the ribbon and with a soft click, unclasped the box’s magnetic catch, then lifted the lid. Inside, I found a neatly written note, and the crisp paper made a soft sound as I picked it up.
My mind spun. The letter and gift were, without a doubt, sent by the god with the ravishing, blond hair I met the other night, and yet, that was not the source of my uneasiness.
Hewas the God of Love—the deity I was supposed to pretend to be in love with. My fingertips curled on the paper as a fleeting thought passed through my head.
With those looks, feigning affection for him would be effortless.
I recoiled at the thought like jerking back from a hot stove. No, it wouldn’t be easy. Not with his smart mouth and the smugness he carried himself with.
“Well? What is it?”
My eyes moved to 226688. “Was he in my room?”
“Yes! You just missed him.” He made it sound like his presence in my room was a privilege.
Arrogant prick.
I closed the box, ignoring the urge to peek even as a tiny spark of curiosity kindled at my fingertips, then shoved it under the bed.
“How can you be so unfazed?” The fairy flew to me when I dropped onto the bed. My wounded legs ached for the creams, but I fought the impulse. “You know, if you want anyone to believe you’re in love with him, you’re doing aterriblejob at it.”
“He said the gift was to be a secret between us. No one will know I didn’t use what he sent me,” I reasoned.
“You have to make him believe as well, and if he sees your injuries are not any better, he’ll suspect otherwise?—”
“Fine,” I snapped, throwing my legs off the bed and reaching underneath for the box.
I was secretly pleased that I had to use the cream because of the fairy’s reasoning and not because I wanted to—the truth was, I wished for nothing more than to feel this throbbing pain to go away.
With a performance worthy of an award, I huffed and puffed as I opened the box and ointment and pretended not to noticethe coolness of the cream bringing relief to my wound. I bit my tongue, gritting my teeth to keep a moan from escaping.
As my eyes fluttered open—which I wasn’t aware I had closed—I observed my wounds, now ghostly white, appearing as if months had passed since the injury.
“Marvelous, right?” He wiggled his brows, smiling with half of his mouth.
I took the container of cream, searching for its name, but there wasn’t any label on it. “What the hell is in this?”
“Something that was so risky to obtain that the only proper way to thank him would be on your knees!” 226688 laughed at his own joke, touching his belly as his head reared back.
I rolled my eyes. “It’s notthatgood.”
“Isn’t it?”
I paused, and that brief moment of contemplation was all he needed to assume I agreed, and he regaled the room with another joyous laugh. To my surprise, my own lips curved into a smile.
Chapter 11
Shadow
