“I should be, but miraculously, I’ve healed.” He holds out the hand not brushing my hair and fans out his fingers. “Salt.”
I pinch some from the bowl and carry it to his mouth. I grimace when he licks the flakes off my fingers.
“Ask me something personal, Rossi?”
Justus shifts, which makes the dull leather of his boots creak. “Do you have any affection for Fallon, or do you desire her solely for her blood?”
“I care greatly for your granddaughter and believe with all my heart that, in time, she’ll come to care for me again.”
Wow.Not two brain cells left to rub together, that one . . .
The Faerie King’s fingers begin to move against my leg again. “I actually believe she may already be remembering how good we were together.”
I grit my teeth to bite back the retort scorching my tongue. Dante and I werenevergood. We were friends. And then he used and discarded me, leaving me with nothing but insecurities and a torn hymen.
He runs his index finger down the length of my throat. “So soft tonight.”
I’m guessing he’s talking about my docile manner and not my skin’s texture. Not that my skin is scaly or dry, but it’s no different than usual. “Fighting against you hasn’t served me.”
“Is that why you’re so biddable?” He hooks my hair. When his lips land on the apex of my cheekbone, I pivot my head and try to shift off his lap, but that merely makes him grip my thigh harder, hard enough to bruise. “Shh. You were doing so well, moya.”
Gods, I hate this male. Of their own accord, my eyes stray back to his headboard.
Dante leans away from me but doesn’t slacken his vise-like grip. “Ask me something else, Generali. Something you know I won’t care to answer.”
“Do you trust me?” Justus asks.
Why the Cauldron would he ask such a question? Is he trying to get caught?
“No. I don’t trust you. But I trust that you want to keep your granddaughter on the throne and will do all you can to make sure she doesn’t fall from my grace.”
From hisgrace? The urge to snort is so strong that it rattles my sinuses.
Dante grips my waist and lifts me, setting me on my feet. “Get on the bed, moya.”
Justus fists the doorknob. “I’ll let myself out.”
“Why are you in such a hurry to depart, Rossi?”
“Because there are some things a grandparent does not care to see.”
A smile curls Dante’s mouth as he rises from his chair. Instead of coming toward me, he grabs the bowl of salt and ambles toward Justus. “You dressed her, didn’t you?”
“I told you, there weren’t many outfits to pick from, Maezza.”
“Are you certain that’s the reason?”
“Yes.”
He raises the wooden bowl toward Justus. “Swallow some salt and repeat your answer.”
Justus’s throat moves with a swallow. Without casting his gaze from Dante’s, he takes some salt and eats it.
Dante stretches his neck, eliciting a series of little cracks and clicks. “Why did you select that outfit for Fallon?”
As Justus swallows, I creep closer to the headboard and glance at the shadows between it and the wall, attempting to catch the glint of a blade.
“Because it would distract you, Maezza.”
