Page 47 of The Kingdom of Ruin

With his eyes still pinned on mine, he rounds the bed, perching himself on the edge as he comes to my side. He’s so close that his knees brush against mine, but I refuse to falter at his proximity. I’m already vulnerable with this open wound.

He stares me down for what feels like an eternity before his back stiffens and he grunts, “Everyone out.”

“Fuck that, you should have gone to your own room, asshole. This is mine,” Raiden snipes, but Cassian doesn’t even bother to glance back at him.

“Go into the other room then.”

“Other room? Fuck. My room is smaller than half of this room,” I ramble, and Raiden scoffs.

“That’s because you’re fae, and I’m elite.”

That smarmy-mouthed fucker. I stumble to my feet, a little more unsteady than I would like, but I’m done with the superiority that exudes from his every pore. It’s pissing me off. Before I can take a step toward him, Cassian has risen too, pushing down on my shoulder so I drop back into my seat. I can’t fight against him while the pain in my chest is consuming me.

“Sit the fuck down. Raiden, give me ten fucking minutes; otherwise, there will be blood everywhere,” Cassian warns.

Silence slips over the room and I finally notice that Brody is standing with Kryll by the door to the left. That must lead into the other room. Another fucking room. Oh, how the other half live.

As if sensing my eyes on him, Brody meets my gaze, a hint of guilt fluttering beneath his lashes, but before he can speak, Cassian points a finger in his direction. “You can get the fuck out too. Don’t go far. There’s shit to discuss,” he bites, the threat evident in his tone.

Brody dips his head and slips from the room, a smirking Kryll a step behind him as Raiden sighs, joining them a second later.

It takes a moment before Cassian turns back to me, and when he does, it feels like we’re closer than we were seconds ago. His knees brush mine again as his green eyes swirl with…something. I feel too delirious to put my finger on what it is, exactly.

The silence stretches, and I don’t feel any control over it, so I clear my throat and break it. “If Brody can’t help me with this…who can?” I point at the blood still slowly pouring from the wound that’s causing more pain than I’ve ever experienced, and he sighs.

“Me.”

My eyebrows rise in surprise at the fact, but when he doesn’t instantly get it over with, irritation creeps up my spine. “Are you going to get to it or not? Because this shit hurts like hell,” I rasp, and his gaze narrows on mine.

“I can drop you back at your room,” he offers, and I scoff at his threat.

“Please do. I can take care of myself.”

“It seems so.”

My mouth parts to give him a piece of my mind, but then I slowly process his words and it makes me pause. “What does that mean?”

He runs his tongue over his bottom lip as he takes me in. “I didn’t expect you to handle yourself like that.”

He’s obviously referring to the fantastic duel I was forced to take part in, barely surviving. I can’t tell if that’s a compliment or not, but what irritates me more is the small part of me that wants it to be.

I don’t rely on other people’s thoughts and opinions to make myself happy, and that’s not changing now. Which is why I brush it off and focus on him being a complete asshole. “I don’t recall speaking more than two words to you before now. That doesn’t seem like much to go on to make an assessment.”

“Probably not,” he replies with a shrug, pursing his lips. His eyes drop to the wound, and he sighs, running a hand down his face before his gaze flickers back to mine. “Unfortunately for you, she slashed across your chest, and I’m going to need to be able to touch the broken skin to heal it.”

“It’s fine.” It’s not fine. I’m out of my mind already, and his proximity is doing nothing to calm the storm raging inside of me.

He nods without another word, stretching out a finger, and I watch as it shifts into a wolf’s claw. I gulp but refuse to reveal the slight tremor that runs through my body at the sight of one again so soon.

With a gentleness that catches me by surprise, he slices through the remainder of my white tee that’s in his way, and I notice my bra is shredded beneath the material.

Damn bitch.

“Are you happy for me to remove your bodice, or do you want to do it yourself?” he offers, his voice deeper, thicker. It takes a moment to understand his question, and I know if he does it, he won’t be kind; he’ll use his claw. I opt to do it myself. It hurts like hell, unclipping each link, but he doesn’t complain about how long it takes.

The moment it’s undone, it seems to ease the pain in my chest a little, and Cassian wastes no time getting a closer look at the damage. He runs his finger over it and I wince, despite the touch being light.

“Sorry.”

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