Where would we go now? To his house? Somewhere else? What did it mean for us that I now knew I was his error?
With a slight shake of his head, noticing I had no intention of grabbing his hand, Eros sent us into a blanket of darkness, taking me to our next location.
Chapter 21
Charisma
Iidly swirled the bubbly water, the scent of lavender filling the air as my head rested on the bathtub’s smooth edge. Detached, I observed how my fingers broke the foam circles of air with each poke and twirl of my wrist.
When Eros had veyrithed me to his house earlier, and I took in the familiar surroundings, I held my breath, waiting for him to say something.
When his silence spoke for him and to avoid making a fool of myself, I immediately whirled around and locked myself in the bathroom. It was pitiful of me to crave affection so badly, no matter who it came from. What did that say about me? Could I trust myself to rely on the right people when I was so easy to fool? All one had to do was show minimal interest, and I’d drop my guard down faster than lightning.
Eros was undeniably handsome, but my reason for waiting for him to speak to me after today’s trial had nothing to do with his good looks. While I acted in love with him to the best of my ability, I found it increasingly difficult to resist developing feelings of friendship. Perhaps it was all in my head, or maybe the friendship was never truly there, because a genuine friend would have shown some concern after today’s events.
Along the way, I might have forgotten where I was.
It was simple: I couldn’t count on anyone, and I had no reason to either. In Elythra, I was nothing more than a prisoner, and I should treat my fate as such and forget about building any new friendships. Now was not the time, nor the place.
I grabbed a washcloth, dipped it in the water and dragged it over my neck. I had already washed that spot—five times—as I had with the rest of my body, but the sensation of suffocation wouldn’t stop seizing me. Draven’s hold was now etched on my skin; small red spots that would turn into bruises the next day.
The harder I rubbed to remove the evidence of his touch, the more my skin reddened and chafed. With an aching wrist, I scrubbed and scrubbed until my fingers cramped from the constant motion.
A single tear slid down my cheek, the rest of my face impassive. I didn’t know what caused it—the pain inside my chest or the pain on my neck. The hot bead rolled down my face, searing a path to my chin before dissolving into the water.
Only my eyes moved with subtle shifts as I glanced around the bathroom. Red and white tiles covered the walls and across the sunken bathtub, a large window reflected the night’s light onto the sink and mirror. To me, the place seemed untouched, as if it had never been used. No shampoo, shower gels—except the ones Eros had magicked for me—razors or used towels were in sight. Some could be tucked away in the sink’s drawers, but I hadn’t bothered to look.
I sighed, touching my temple. It occurred to me that the first time I had ever experienced the comfort of luxury was when my life was at stake. Hah. What a twisted sense of humor the gods possessed—offering me a taste right before they snatched it away.
“Are you well?” Interrupting my train of thoughts, Eros’s voice slithered in.
Oh, so now you have a tongue? But instead, I said, “Yes, I’m all right. Can you give me a robe or something?”
I would’ve stayed longer, but the water had grown cold, and I could feel my skin pruning. As if on cue, a towel and a robe—red—appeared on the tub’s edge.
“I apologize. I tend to depend on my magic for all my endeavors, including the mundane ones.”
I dried and wrapped the robe around my body, biting back a moan at the softness of the material. What could make a person so deserving of feeling something like this at all times?
My naked feet moved across the marble floor as I made my way to the door, opening it with a soft click of the lock. Eros was standing in front of the threshold and, once again, those beautiful eyes wandered to my neck. I allowed myself a moment to search them before walking past him.
“Can you teach me how to access my magic?” I asked, dragging the blanket over me as I slipped into bed.
Eros neared, stopping at the edge. “I’m afraid not.”
“Why?”
“The rules forbid it.”
“Do the rules allow you to bed a contestant?”
His head tilted back. “I am not bedding you.”
“I’m in your bed, aren’t I?” I lifted a brow, making myself more comfortable on the fluffy pillow.
“Yes, however?—”
“Then what harm could breaking one more rule bring you? It’s not like that would be enough to help me escape.” I planted the trap, waiting for a flicker of change in his expression, something that could confirm it would be possible. But Eros remained aloof.
