She let out a long, shaky breath.
Your skin is clean.
The muscles in her diaphragm untensed.
Acacius’s hand slipped from her waist to the slit of her neckline, meeting the bare skin just below where her golden body chain lay. “The scarlet reminds me of wine as well, but here lately, I think of the ruby jewels you wear instead. I’ve found that I actually enjoy keeping up with them all, your many forms of ornamentation."
Her heartbeat stuttered, and an ember lit in her chest, like she’d sipped down a cup of hot jasmine tea. “I enjoy fashion. The art, the connection of it.” Talking helped distract her mind fromthe tremor of her nervous system. “I suppose it started when I was a child. I itched to find a way to express myself without angering Mira, since she expected me to withhold my emotions.”
Acacius’s fingertips drew up the line of her throat, gently guiding her head back to rest on his shoulder. “Chaos is birthed from emotion.” He played with the chains on her diaphragm, her skin singing in the strokes of his touch.
She continued to peer up at the moths. “It’s why you’re impulsive, and volatile.”
“Passionate, Rina.”
She laughed quietly, her body’s weight easing against him. He made it too easy to give in. “And what are your passions?”
“Making you pay for your betrayal.” His fingers locked around the base of her throat, applying light pressure. A savage excitement unspooled in her stomach. “Dealing with your sister and her deicidal offspring.”
The breath in her lungs went cold.
It’s not as if his intentions were new to her. Back when she assisted him in locating Ash’s blood, he’d been anything but quiet about his feelings toward her nephew. Back then, Acacius’s animosity meant nothing to her, just like Ash had meant nothing to her as well.
Now, though, hearing that same vehemence ooze from Acacius’s mouth iced away any warmth the moment offered her.
How ignorant could she be?
Acacius was a savage monster, and she was in his arms, right where he wanted her to be.
She swallowed, the movement straining her windpipe against his grip. “You still disapprove of Naia’s divine power, and what Ash’s blood can do?”
“Immeasurably.” The word rolled off his tongue in a low tone.
“And what do you intend to do?”
“Why?” He nuzzled his cheek to her temple, his breath caressing the side of her face. “Still seeking revenge of your own?”
“The impending fall of my life all began with Naia.” Marina spoke her sister’s name with a life-long, practiced resentment. “I could join your endeavor, if you allowed me to do so.”
The opportunity would be a perfect way to extract the necessary knowledge. She would be several steps ahead of him, able to report back his plans to Naia and Ronin.
Acacius went quiet.
Her heart accelerated like a hummingbird’s wing, unnerved by his corrosive silence.
A group of moths swarmed her face like a living breeze, crowding around her. Several landed in her hair, another on her forehead, her cheeks. She snapped her eyes to their silken wings, swearing to all gods that if they tried to invade her nostrils, she would slice Acacius to pieces in his own spring with her divine power.
Acacius finally let out a breathy chuckle, relinquishing the hold he kept around her throat.
“Nice try, Rina.” He curled his index finger around her necklace, the tip of his thumb grazing the side of her breast. “But trust is not a sentiment I can afford you. Not after last time.”
Acacius acted off emotion, often without thought of repercussion. Though, unfortunately, it seemed that he learned from his grave past mistakes.
However, he’d confirmed one thing for her: Soren had been right about seeing his Heralds in Hollow City. Not that she questioned Soren, but that perhaps he’d seen something else: a different breed of nightmare, something conjured by magic. The laws of witchcraft were nonexistent, and anything was possible under her brother’s arcane influence.
Marina bit at her bottom lip to keep from forming a frown.
She needed to carry on the conversation. Remaining quiet made her seem suspicious, and that was the last thing she could afford as she stood in the garnet pool, at the mercy of his composure. Her nerves still trembled, and she knew she would be far too slow to react if he were to attack her.
