“Nothing.” Alexei’s black pupils dilated with renewed hostility. “Maksym would never agree to such a thing. The healing suppressant dulls elemental powers. Can’t have the Windrider tearing this place down with a squall, now can we?”
She backed away, berating herself for even asking. But if she and Cael could figure out a way for him to stop taking the suppressant, it was good to know that both his healingandhis wind magic would be restored.
Alexei banged his fist against the bars, laughing as Xenia jolted and bared her teeth. “See you tomorrow, little mouse and broken bat,” he crooned as he sauntered away.
“He’s not a bat, he’s a pterodactyl,” Xenia muttered under her breath, and swore she heard an amused snort behind her.
She stole a quick glance at Cael to ensure his eyes were closed before she turned her back on him to change into the dress robes.
* * *
Cael crackedhis eyes open at the soft hiss of fabric coasting down skin. Thanked the High Gods that Xenia was facing away from him and didn’t notice.
He watched her slip off the silky, green dress. Felt he’d earned the indulgence after the beating he’d taken earlier. Ignored the pang of guilt that she might not agree.
She slipped the straps off her slender shoulders, and her back was enticingly bare. The plunging neckline he’d spied in the dining room had already informed him she wasn’t wearing a bra. Not that her small, perky breasts needed the support.
She bent at the waist as she lowered the green satin over the taut swells of her narrow, shapely backside, exposing long golden legs.
She wasn’t wearing any underwear.
He let out a quivering breath, swallowing a wince, but didn’t close his eyes. Kept them glued to those two dimples framing the base of her spine. Wondered what she’d do if he leaned forward and dipped his tongue into one.
He blinked away the flash of desire that pulsed through his veins, drawing his blood to the surface of his skin and making his bruises scream louder.
He closed his eyes, but the image of her naked back and stunning ass, haloed in the buttery glare of the torches, burned behind his eyelids.
Frenzied Dienses, this healing suppressant must be shredding his self-control. He’d never been this physically attracted to a human, ever. Sure, he’d had his fair share of trysts during his time in the colonies, but those were borne out of a combination of proximity, availability, and desperation.
His father was ruthless in his maintenance of the Empire’s laws prohibiting relationships between Fae and humans, and Cael had never dared disobey him.
Had never even beentemptedto disobey him.
Until now.
He buried his hands underneath his thighs to keep from reaching out. Touching her.
Bruised and battered and broken, he was desperate for any kind of healing touch. That’s what he told himself to explain the craving roaring through his body. Well, that and he hadn’t fucked anyone in weeks—not since he’d lost that Delos promotion and spiraled into one of his depressive moods.
The episodes came for him every few months. When he was younger, he would rage against the emptiness, determined to beat it into submission. Better to feel turbulent than nothing at all.
It never worked.
As he grew older, he coped by allowing the numbness to envelop him. He’d ride it out, hoping he didn’t lose too many pieces of himself to the dark, yawning pit he’d plunge into for days, sometimes weeks, at a time.
The loss of the Delos position had hit him hard. The ensuing episode was one of the longest and blackest he’d experienced in decades. He wasn’t sure he was going to make it out the other side, especially when the Vicereine had assigned him and Tristan to that ridiculous job at the Temple.
But the job hadn’t been ridiculous at all. He’d found his way back to himself searching for those missing Sisters, researching ancient texts in the quiet library with a bouncy mess of blond curls twittering at him from across the table.
A ray of light coaxing him out of the murky recesses of his mood.
Best not get used to such a feeling, though. There was no way his father would accept him being with ahuman. Not to mention if Xenia ever discovered the true depth of the void inside him—
Gentle fingers grazed his cheek and he opened his eyes to two vibrant, green pools of worry.
“They gave me some salve for your wounds,” she whispered. She wore those midnight blue dress robes again—her uniform for the job Maksym had assigned her.
The fuckingbastard.
