Page 91 of Haunted

Only her pinkie. That smallest part of her flesh is the only part I’m safe with.

I’m in purgatory, but because of Neifion’s death, I deserve it.

I can’t become ensnared. I can’t obsess over a woman. I’ve worked too hard to build a realm of safety for my people. My fixation will weaken me.

But I want Niawen. I do.

I sense unrest in her, or rather I see it. She’s grumpy. She’s abrupt, but she doesn’t mean to be.

She wants more.

I’ve tempted her as much as I’ve tempted myself.

Despicable.

I won’t touch her.

Just the one finger.

A bit of temptation to drive us both mad.

64

I hurry down the corridor. My day was long, and I want the peace and the torment of my muse. I smile as I think of dinner. My fingers brushed Niawen’s. I wasn’t paying attention as I passed the salt, but the heat from her touch caught me off guard, and I yanked my hand from hers and cradled it to my chest.

The look on her face injured me. She didn’t know what to think, so she pushed back from the table and bolted from the room.

My master guardsmen found me later and told me that half a dozen shields were melted into a molten lump in the armory.

Ah, so she’s frustrated.

What can I do with that?

I don’t want Niawen to think our nightly rendezvous are progressing. I don’t want her to want more.

Or do I?

I’ve lived for a long time. Don’t I deserve happiness? Can’t I forget my past traumas and start fresh?

But the empress destroyed me.

I’m not sane.

I will hurt Niawen. That’s why I’ve been keeping her at arm’s length.

I’m almost surprised to find her in my chambers before I arrive. She’s dressed in her creamy white nightgown and pacing in front of the fire. I ignore how revealing the fabric is. Her frenzied steps and flowing ashen locks are too wild. She might stir a reaction from me. I speak cautiously. “You’re anxious.”

She stops. “What are we doing?”

She asks in earnest. In sincerity.

I can’t afford to meet her head on, so I walk right past her. “I’m going to bed. You’re pacing.” I disappear into an adjoining room.

She continues to talk while I change. “That’s not what I meant. I’m tired—”

I straighten the hem of my shirt as I emerge. “I thought you’d been sleeping rather well. I know I have been.” By the Creators, yes. I have been sleeping in paradise.

She squeezes her delicate fists by her side. “Are you toying with me?”

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