Page 7 of Drawn into Oblivion

“You can. I know you can.” She gently grasped Mai’s arms.

“How?”

“Is there a man in your life who attracts you, at least as a friend?”

Mai’s heart twirled, for a name immediately popped into her head. But she knew that nothing could or ever would come of interacting with him. She had seen the endless stream of women who threw themselves at him daily. Someone like him wouldn’t want the company of a frigid woman, even platonically, nor would he be inclined to be patient with her. And yet…

“Mai?”

“Perhaps. Why?”

“Reach out to him. You can be honest and suggest forming a friendship. From there it is up to your heart.”

Mai nodded. “I’ll do my best.” The words came out strong, but whether she would actually have the courage to follow through would remain to be seen.

⁂

Rosuke stood outside the empress’s chambers, having heard from Vallen that she was here. He needed to discuss a new training schedule with her and implement it as soon as possible. However, he had yet to enter or even knock.

“Sir, is everything all right?” one of the hall guards called, no doubt eyeing his clenched fists and the angry set of his jaw.

Rosuke ignored him, his wrath barely contained as he shook with the need to punch the nearest object. He had never thought he could feel such anger. It clogged his throat and flooded his brain, bleeding into his vision until all he saw was red.

He wanted to drop what he was doing, grab a horse from the stables, and ride all the way to Kaisui so he could locate the blondie who had so viciously attacked Mai’s mother. He wanted to pull the man’s intestines out through his mouth and chop off every limb, starting with the one that had slapped her.

The only thing that stopped him was the realization that Masashi had most likely died in the initial attacks on human cities. Vallen would have understood, though, he was sure.

“Sir?” the guard called again in a careful tone. Rosuke looked over at the young but bulky man and gave him a curt nod.

He had been determined to harass Mai no longer after the cold shoulder she’d given him the night they’d met and after learning her worst fear from Majo in the battle that followed. Though her captivating eyes and silken hair haunted his dreams, though seeing her around the palace was enough to steal all thought from his head, he promised himself that someone with a past as sordid as his would stay far away from her.

However, hearing the empress wished for Mai to face that fear, he felt an indescribable stab of jealousy at the thought of any other man earning her affections, even as a friend. He wanted to be the man she trusted, the one she reached out to. He wanted to help her. He wanted to earn her trust, to deserve her trust… Then, perhaps he could forgive himself for the mistakes he’d made all those years ago.

Deciding his question for the empress could wait, Rosuke walked away, a plan forming in his mind.

Chapter Three

Mai walked along the edge of the palace’s open-air hot spring. Trees and brush grew close to the pool, and a tall fence separated the women’s side from the men’s, its planks reaching all the way down to the bedrock. A single door connected the two sides, although she didn’t remember it being there previously.

She looked down at herself through the thick steam and knew she was dreaming, for she wore a dress she didn’t recognize. Its long sleeves nearly brushed the floor with her every step. She touched the plum fabric and found it silky. Her waist-length hair was unbound and fell in a long, gleaming wave. She gently wiped her bottom lip, aware something was there. Doing so left a smear of lip stain on her fingertips that matched her dress.

She raised her head and found she had ventured through the open door to the men’s side. Because this was a dream, she somehow knew it was empty, save for one person. The steam was thick, and walking was more like swimming. The water vapor condensed on her face and neck, and she wondered if her dress was getting damp in the steamy air.

A figure sat in the pool, his arms spread out along the brim. His straight black hair was so long the tips floated on the surface of the milky-white water. She knew who he was but didn’t see his face clearly through the steam until she stood above him. His name fell from her lips.

Rosuke looked up at her with a heavy-lidded gaze, lips ajar. Without her help, her belt unwound itself and fell to her feet. Her dress sagged open, not yet revealing anything, but the slippery material slowly slid down her shoulders.

Her heart pounded as Rosuke stood and turned toward her, his skin shimmering as water cascaded down his body. He was far more muscular than she’d imagined—and Divine One help her, she had imagined. Wide, sculpted shoulders. High, tight pecs. His broad chest tapered to a slim waist, and though the water now lapped at his knees, she found she couldn’t look upon the manliest part of him. When she tried, all she saw was thick steam and shadows.

Dizzy with excitement, she caught her dress at her elbows as it slipped off her shoulders. His breaths deepened, and his ocean-blue eyes were full of promise as he perused her. She could hardly breathe, yet somehow she loved his thorough examination.

His gaze was directed low on her body when he licked his lips, and her heart skipped. Heat bloomed in her core. Her pulse raced. She lowered her arms and allowed her dress to fall to her feet.

Rosuke stepped forward and reached for her. His strong, rough fingers gripped her bare hips. She closed her eyes with a sigh and grasped the sinewy strength of his biceps. He’d soon hold her close, gently cradling her as he brushed his mouth against hers. The mere thought made her gasp with need. Ready for more, she opened her eyes.

A cold stab of fear stole her breath. Rosuke’s glorious, black hair had turned blond, his look of passion supplanted by sneering anger. So great was his malice that he was hardly recognizable, as if possessed by something evil. He viciously dragged her into the hot water, his grip bruising. Though she wanted to fight him, she was paralyzed with fear. He easily captured her wrists and held them with one hand high above her head, nearly pulling her to her toes. She shut her teary eyes, whimpering and unable to scream.

The grasp on her wrists vanished, and she fell into the hot spring with a splash, landing hard on the stone step beneath the water that doubled as a seat. Sputtering, she looked up.