Flo nodded and repeated the instructions back.
I’d done it. I turned to check Raphael’s face for a sign I’d just forfeited my life. Demos looked between the two of us, shook his head, and walked out the door.
It was just me and Raphael. A grin spread wide over his face.
“Well done.”
It was oddly intimateto dress in the same room. Something I’d have to get used to quickly, especially since I needed Raphael’s help with the corset sewn into my dress.
It was a stunning gown. Like before, I wore the western kingdom colors to match Raphael. But the clothing was brilliant, a silver-boned corset holding up a bright violet dress embroidered with tiny crystals throughout. A sheet of fabric trailed behind me as a cape, my arms encircled in matching silver arm braces.
I tried and tried to pull the ribbons taut, but it was a losing effort. I maneuvered myself over to open the bedroom door.
“Raphael? A hand?”
He met me at the doorway. He now wore a double-breasted doublet in a matching shade, the white undershirt widening at the wrists and leaving his neck open. No crown—but anyone who looked at him would see a king.
I turned away, instead facing the messy sheets of the bed, trying not to think of the fact that I’d slept there, exposed. Raphael had stayed up all night once again, without complaint.
The corset began to tighten as Raphael threaded the ribbon through the eyelets I hadn’t managed. His movements weremethodical, but that didn’t ease my awareness. He was right behind me.
“You’re good at this.”
The ribbon stopped moving, and I cringed. I’d sounded a little too surprised.
“Wondering if I have practice?” he teased.
I hadn’t meant to, but suddenly the image of Raphael with his hands on the corset laces of some faceless woman—ofunlacingthem—flashed in my mind. My jaw clenched at the thought.
Could I actually bejealous? Of the mere thought of Raphael with other women? He was centuries old and attractive. He was obviously more experienced than I was. It stood to reason he’d had the chance to unlace scores of corsets.
More importantly, he wasn’t evenwithme. We shared a chamber because some vampire custom demanded it, as did his instincts.
I didn’t want him.Couldn’tlet myself want him. Because if I let myself want him, if I let myself confide in him, I would mess up and tell him exactly what I was.
“There are spells for this in the Witch Kingdom.” Telekinetic witches weren’t uncommon, but even others had work-arounds. A petramancer, for example, could sew tiny pebbles into the ends of the laces to manipulate them.
“It seems like a waste.”
I frowned. That kind of magic was cheap. “Really? It doesn’t take much magic.” It’s not like magic was a finite source for witches. They got stronger the more they used.
Raphael pulled the top laces tight. My breath caught in my throat as he leaned in to tie it, his breath grazing my shoulder. “Of opportunity.”
Dolor, stop me. There was no mistaking the insinuation. I twisted, a miscalculation that left me even closer to Raphael than I realized as I tilted my head back to see him.
His jaw was freshly shaved and dangerously tempting. But I couldn’t make myself step back.
“You did well today, you know.”
I frowned at the sharp subject change. “With Flo?”
“With learning about your abilities. You let yourself try.”
“We did make a deal.” My gaze dipped to Raphael’s lips automatically, remembering how we’d sealed that bargain. “I imagine it’s intent-based. If I don’t sincerely try, you won’t help break the fledgling bond, will you? At least we’re done with it.”
“Done?” Raphael was blatantly amused. “One day, one human, and you think you’ve mastered the art of compulsion?”
I bit back a groan. Yes, I’d kind of hoped that was the case. Even if I could rationalize why I did it—to break the bond and perhaps figure out how to do the same to vampires—I didn’t relish the thought of needing to practice. “There’s more?”
