“You called me a parasite, once,” he murmured. “Insinuated elites are nothing without a priestess to kneel for them.”
“That’s not—”
“Remind me,” he drawled, took another swig, then set the noxious garbage pail aside. “Who did you come to? Who did you beg to ease your pain?”
Throat thick, I shook my head on a denial I couldn’t voice.
“You begged for it, Mila. Knelt over my cock, absent even the barest whisper of a fight. Dripping for it…” He smiled, and it sent terror spilling down my spine. “Making allsortsof offers and promises if only I could help you…”
Too weak to retreat, I could only sit there and wait. Knowing what came next. That this would be his greatest pleasure, despite everything that had come before.
And with shaking fingers, he reached and claimed the spot at my nape. Pulled me in tight so I might hear it when he whispered, “You’re mine now, little empath. Body and soul. Gave yourself to me.Willingly.” Fingers carding through my hair, back to front, he let his thumb wander. Tracing my cheekbone down to my lips. “As easy as flipping a coin.”
I exhaled the bitter flavor of defeat, eyes drifting closed on the pain of such a blow.
It was obvious, now. In the desolate vacuum of my defeat.
I wasn’t the avenging hero, the liberator, or the righteous weapon Tritan needed for salvation.
I was exactly as they’d named me.
A delusional little fool, a child playing with forces I had no real understanding of.
And it was in that moment, as the captain closed the loop and claimed the empath for himself, I knew.
There was but a single living soul who embodied both sides of the spectrum—and he waselite.
Captain Asher Rawlings.
Enemy.
Conquering villain.
A master of this game to which I was hopelessly unequal.
When I held my silence, I felt him nod. “Here,” he murmured. “You look like you need this.”
The decanter hovered before my face. Amber liquid sloshing with a hollow tinkle that drew a reflexive swallow to my throat. Urging me to indulge.
I took the offering only for it to slip from clammy, weak fingers.
Without a word, the captain reclaimed the bottle and set it to my lips. Guiding my head back. Feeding me a burning sip, he filled my mouth until I could hold no more and the corners of my lips spilled over.
“Swallow,” he murmured, wiping at the spillage with the pad of his thumb.
I obeyed.
Spluttered then coughed when it was down, pressing the back of one trembling hand to my lips.
“So.” He took another long draught, throat working mechanically as he watched me. “You tried to kill me.”
For a moment, as the spirits warmed my belly, I simply held his ebon gaze. Too tired to fight, too battered for anything resembling defiance. And then my chin dipped in a single, tight nod.
“I’ll admit,” he drawled, and the corner of his lips twitched, “I’m impressed. But what concerns me is how spectacularly you failed.”
Jaw tight, I scowled and looked away.
“I can feel it, you know.” Setting the bottle between us, he grimaced and pushed himself to stand. “The damage you did to my heart reflected back into yours.” Swaying, he clutched at the desk for a moment before adding, “Clever. Reckless andincrediblystupid, but a valiant attempt.”
