The room was well-appointed and tastefully decorated to match the lodge’s hunting aesthetic, but Xenia felt a pang of sadness that there wasn’t a scrap of Cael anywhere. No art hung on the walls, no evidence of his own taste or hobbies. If she hadn’t known any better, she’d think this was just another guest room.
At least it was clean. Bed made, no sign of Cael’s breakfast tray. Shedidsee the two notes she’d left him tucked against thebrass lamp on his nightstand. She chuckled, wondering if he’d said his affirmations today.
“Come.” Cael guided her into his bathroom, and Xenia cradled her wounded arm, trying not to bleed all over the black marble floor. “Take off your dress.”
Xenia’s insides sparkled to life at the deep command, though she knew he didn’t mean it how she’d taken it. She untied her apron, then carefully shucked off her uniform.
Cael cupped her waist and hoisted her onto the light pine vanity, his cool fingers a brand on her hip through the thin silk of her chemise. He turned on the faucet, then grabbed a washcloth from underneath the sink. Gripping her forearm, his touch so achingly gentle, he began cleaning off her wounds.
She hissed when the warm water made contact with a bleeding gash.
“Sorry,” he murmured, eyes focused on his task. “Why did she do this to you?”
Xenia choked back tears. “I was stupid. I just… I don’t know what I was thinking. I didn’t mean to rip her dress.”
“I’m sure she has plenty.” Cael cleaned the cloth under the running water, then knelt to grab something under the sink. It put his head perilously close to where it had been during their tryst in Rhamnos.
Phantom memories surfaced, the feel of his tongue and hands on her, inside her, and she pressed her thighs together to stop the warmth flooding her sex.
Dangerous. She didn’t want to get him, or herself, into trouble with Arran.
Cael stood upright, shaking his head with a rueful smile, then began rubbing healing balm onto her wounds.
Her upper lip twitched. “This feels familiar.”
“You can’t seem to keep yourself from getting into trouble, Blondie.” Cael’s own lip twitched and Xenia’s heart soared at her nickname.
“I need to get back in there.”
The smile fell from Cael’s face. “No. Absolutely not. I don’t want you anywhere near her again. Why?”
“I found a locked box hidden in her closet. What do you think is in there?”
“Who the fuck knows? Or cares? Knowing her, it's probably a bunch of sappy love poems or something.” Cael scoffed, his fingers tightening on her arm as he made another pass with the balm. “Your curiosity is going to get you killed someday. I’m sure it’s nothing. Don’t fucking worry about it.”
“Why would she bother bringing it all the way here if it wasn’t important?” Xenia countered, her defiance rising as Cael tried to dissuade her. “Don’t you want to know what secrets yourfiancéeis hiding before you…before you promise yourself to her for the rest of your life?”
Healing complete, Cael placed his palms outside of Xenia’s hips and leaned in, snaring her with his flint-steel gaze. His scent, that familiar mossy green freshness, washed over her as she tilted her head up, their lips nearly touching. Her heart slammed against her ribs as she fought the urge to open her thighs and wrap her legs around his waist.
“What’s the matter, Zee?” he whispered, staring at her mouth. “You hoping to find something damning in there?”
“Yes.” Cael’s breathy chuckle caressed her lips. “And I don’t trust her. She’s petty and cruel.”
“Then she and I are a perfect match.”
She grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at her. “Bullshit. You are not cruel. You’re a stubborn, bossy asshole, but you’re not cruel.”
His gaze softened, but underneath her fingertips, she could feel how tense his jaw was. As if he were clenching his teeth tight enough to snap them.
“You can’t marry her,” Xenia whispered.
Cael pushed up off of the sink, robbing her of their proximity.
“I know.” He ran a hand through his hair, tousling it adorably. A sly grin spread onto his face and her heart leapt. “I had a very interesting meeting this morning.”
Cael launched into an incredible story. One that filled Xenia with more hope than she’d felt since she’d been taken in Rhamnos. About how Tristan had returned to the continent. About how he’d joined with a group of rebels called the Teles Chrysos—of which Xenia’s hero Trophonios was a member; so fucking cool.
“Tristan said Trophonios may be able to help us figure out how to deactivate the device. I’m meeting with Tristan again in a few days to bring him the sample you gave me.”
