I hated how much I wanted to feel it gliding across my body.
And then I saw it on the bed beside the underthings, blending in with the coverlet. A leather sheath that held a slim, lethal blade, the hilt adorned with fine etchings and light blue stones alternating with onyx black.
A parallel to him and me? I shrugged off the thought.
I didn’t miss the symbolism of the blade. He’d replaced the one I’d stabbed him with.
I held onto the tunic for a long while before tossing it back onto the bed. With a nod, I started dressing. The undergarments slid over my skin like butter, molding to my curves, hugging my thighs and my breasts. I tugged on the pants and secured the cord at my waist. And the tunic…
I tried to shrug off the feel of his hands gliding across my body as I slid it over my head and thrust my arms through the half-sleeves. There was no shrugging off anything when I smoothed it across my chest and thighs, my fingers lingering to soak in the sensual feel.
Every thread of this fabric felt like a chain and a promise. I was shrouding myself in him, whether I wanted to or not. A surrender I’d never admit aloud. A war between my wild heart and the desire for his touch.
I felt dangerous. Desirable. And I couldn’t decide whether I liked or hated the feeling. He wasn’t touching me, but he was already under my skin.
After securing the sheath and belt at my waist, I walked over toexamine myself in the mirror, unsure if I liked how I looked dressed by Trew’s hands.
With a huff, I sat on the bed and tugged on the boots that soothed my sore feet and hugged my shins in a snug way that would allow seamless movement yet only heightened my overall appearance.
That man knew my measurements, my stride, and my preferences. I was not only being clothed; I was being claimed.
I brushed out my thick hair until it crackled and left it down, gliding across my back.
After frowning at myself in the mirror, I stepped out into the hall, hearing the door magically lock behind me.
Lexie opened her door mid-knock. Her damp hair had been pulled into a ponytail and secured with a leather cord. She wore a simple green dress, the sort you pack when you expect you might need something clean and attractive. Her eyes flicked down to my boots and back, pausing at my blade.
“You must’ve kept that hidden in your bag,” she said about the blade. “As warriors, we’re allowed weapons now. As recruits…”
She didn’t need to say anything else. I could still picture my knives sinking into the lake.
She reached out and ran a fingertip down one of the bits of silver etching.
“Nice,” she said. “Did you bring this outfit with you?”
“Um…yes.”
My, wasn’t lying coming easy for me lately.
“They didn’t leave you something to wear?” I asked.
She shook her head. “Why would they?”
I pressed for a smile and shrugged.
I caught her eyeing my boots, the soft leather, buttery-smooth, clearly tailored for both elegance and function.
“You’re about my size, right?” I asked.
She blinked. “I think so?”
“Want to trade footwear?”
Her grin broke wide. “You’re serious?”
“Deadly.”
She didn’t ask why. Just kicked off her shoes and slid into the boots with a delighted little gasp. “I feel like a queen.”
