I swallow hard, unable to answer.
His eyes darken. Then, without warning, he seizes the back of my neck and crushes his mouth against mine. The kiss is bruising, suffocating, his grip unyielding when I try to pull away. My nails dig into my palms, the taste of him bitter and invasive.
Wrong. Wrong.WRONG.
When he finally releases me, I gasp for air, my lips burning.
So this is what it will always be like to touch him.
He studies me. My hair, my face, my dress, and then his eyes linger on the place where the Fuegorra stone sits in my chest. It just barely peaks out from my neckline. He frowns.
More fear ices my veins. A reminder of how I am tied to the Enduares. And he doesn’t even know the half of it. He has no idea about my matehood.
I am a pretender. Everything Arion thinks he knows about me is a lie. I need to be more careful.
“Remember this,” he says softly, though his voice holds steel. “You are mine to display, mine to train, mine to tame. Do not shame me again—everything depends on this.”
The words stir powerful memories. I hear a different, welcome voice.
I will take care of you. Right now, you are mine to break. Mine to put back together.
Still, I refuse to even think the name. Instead, I see the troll as he bound my hands, but I didn’t feel trapped. He’d covered my body with his own, and yet I’d felt like flying. He unlocked parts of me that seemed twisted and made me feel like they were treasures.
He earned the right to be rough with me. Arion…
Arion flicks his hand, dismissing me as if I am nothing more than a slave again. “Take her to her room.”
The guards step forward, and I follow stiffly, the weight of eyes still on me even though the hall is nearly empty. My gown rustles as I walk, its green fabric gleaming under the torchlight like the scales of a serpent.
And though I keep my head high, inside I know the truth: nomatter how perfectly I behave, I will always be an outsider. A dressed-up pet.
You can do hard things, I remind myself.You are not alone. You have a plan.
You can bear this.
Chapter 13
ARLET
Upon arriving at my room, I notice all of the lights are out and the air is cold. Strange.
Usually, in great houses, rooms are prepared for their occupants before they arrive. I would’ve imagined the fire would be lit, as would candles. A bath might’ve been drawn. Perhaps the bed would’ve been turned down.
Just as I’m about to step inside, the guard stops me.
“A moment, milady.”
He walks in first, then makes an exasperated sound.
“Get me a fucking servant,” he grumbles to his companion. “It’s dark as Doros’ asshole.”
This isn’t normal, and that has ice freezing over my skin.
The first guard nods to me, then hurries off to find someone. I stand there in the silence, feeling awkward in front of the remaining guard. He looks straight ahead, but I notice his hand firmly grips the short sword at his waist.
For a moment, everything is silent.
Then a sound comes from the other end of the hallway. I flinch and an electric shock passes through my body. Then the guard from before appears with a servant at his side.