Her nose scrunched, and she sucked in a sharp breath. I straightened her out immediately. “No, it’s fine. Do it again,” she assured me.
I held her gaze as I bowed her leg again, hyperaware of the rise and fall of her chest. The twitch of her lips. The flare of her nostrils.
She sank back against the pillows, fingers tightening over the blanket around her shoulders.
“I hate that he has to be the one to help me.”Her thought slipped through, raw and unguarded, along with the ache in her bones.
The muscles in my jaw tightened, and I built that barricade higher. I was doing this for her, and still, she fucking hated me.
After the fifth bend, I lowered her leg gently to the bed. “Do you want to keep going or should I stop so you don’t have a setback?”
“One more,” she said, her voice hoarse.
I pressed into her for the final time, lifting her knee, then held the position for longer than I had before. I wasn’t ready tolet her go. Wasn’t ready for this moment to end. Where she was vulnerable, where the open hostility was gone. Where I could pretend like we had a real future.
With the bond thrashing in my chest, I released her, retreating only long enough to find the discarded wrap. My back ached as I bent over her, rebandaging her broken knee and ensuring it wasn’t too tight against the bruise.
“Does it drive you mad, having to be gentle with me when all you know how to do is break?” she threw at me like she couldn’t stand the tender moment between us either.
I stilled, then lifted my gaze with predatory slowness. “Little fugitive, if I wanted to break you, I would. I wouldn’t even need my hands on your flesh to do it.”
To demonstrate my point, I ripped a pillow from behind her. She gasped, falling backward, barely managing to catch herself before her skull cracked against the headboard. I tucked it under her leg without so much as looking anywhere else but at the flush painting her cheeks.
“Because you would Command your mate without hesitation,” she snapped, adjusting herself so she was propped up again.
My fingers curled into fists, and I forced myself to drag them away from her. “Without hesitation, should the need arise. Didn’t I already prove that to you?”
She glared at me like she was willing the fire behind me to roar to life and consume me. “You have. And how shameful is it that a mate must use his magic to force his bonded to obey.”
Her words cut deep into my flesh. It was only from the sheer force of will I exerted over myself that I didn’t flinch.
“I’m hungry now.”
A low, wicked laugh escaped me. “Do you think you’re in charge here? That you get to take advantage of my kindness,throw my sins in my face, and then pretend like it never happened?”
In an instant, my arms framed her head. Her breath hitched as I hovered above her, muscles flexing with barely contained restraint. “Because you’re not. You are my prisoner. You are my mate. I own you, Sylaira. It’s time you start seeing that.”
I shoved off the bed and slid my feet into my boots again.
“I am going to order us dinner.” If only to get some fucking space from her. “I will return shortly. I suggest you use this time alone to think about how you want to behave going forward.” Bending down, I laced my shoes tight enough to cut into my skin. To ground me.
Then, I snatched the key and shoved it into my pocket.
I was halfway down the stairs when she called out, soft and tentative. “Wait!”
Despite the pounding in my veins, I did, waiting for her to speak again.
“Can I have some wine?”
Exhaling, I spun to face her again. “What for? So you can flutter out the window in the middle of the night when I’m drunk?”
She bared her teeth at me. “Don’t drink if you don’t want that to happen then.”
Saying nothing, I stomped the rest of the way down the staircase, locking the door behind me.
I wanted to punish her. Wanted to Command her to be silent if only so she wouldn’t throw my own frustration and shame back in my face.
Yet when I emerged into the tavern below, I found myself ordering a bottle of white wine along with our dinner.
