Page 57 of A Kingdom of Pleasure and Torment

Luthian will not let me be forgotten here.

But in the meantime, I’m thirsty and achy, and the scrapes on my cheek, knees, and palms sting. My silk robe is in tatters, and my skin is streaked with dirt. I long for my bed, for a full day of sleep.

And for a reason. Kathras knew his father wanted me. Was that why he took me? He seemed so disaffected, so disinterested, so...

Disgusted.

He was disgusted, standing beside me as I rode Arcus’s cock. Prince Kathras must have thought me a common human trollop, something so foul and beneath him that he wished to debase me in such an aggressive manner.

I hope he felt the pleasure I took in it. I hope my cry of passion shamed him.

“Cenere!” A familiar voice calls from somewhere far away. “Cenere, are you out here?”

“I’m here!” I croak from my parched throat. “I’m here!”

Footsteps approach and Luthian appears. He stops, his blue-gray skin going nearly white as he looks at me.

I try to push myself up, and that snaps him back.

“Don’t,” he says, hurrying to my side. He lifts me as if I am a feather and tucks my head against his shoulder. Cradled to the warmth of his chest, I feel how cold I truly am, and my teeth begin to chatter.

“I’ll kill him,” Luthian seethes, and I want to warn him of what he told me before: that we must always watch our words, that his wards cannot protect us on the grounds. But I’m too tired, my throat too sore.

I reach up and stroke his cheek. “I know.”

We’re not in the labyrinth anymore. His strides take us across a room I’ve never seen before. The walls are black, the candelabras on the walls silver. There’s a fireplace burning with blue flame, and a huge, black-covered bed exactly like the one I imagined when I thought of Luthian that last night before we came to court.

“Where am I?” I ask, though I’m sure I know the answer.

“My chambers,” he confirms, and conjures a bathtub of steaming water from the air. He lowers me into it, and my ruined clothes melt away at the touch of the water. “What did he do to you?”

“It was a game,” I explain. “Surely, you must know—”

“It isn’t a game to strand a vulnerable human in the cold all night.” Soap appears in his hand—sorrow lily, without even having to ask—and a sponge. “You could have frozen to death.”

“It was not freezing weather,” I say softly.

“Look at you. He didn’t even bother to heal you,” Luthian goes on.

“Perhaps he did not know that I needed healing.” I’m beginning to worry that Luthian’s rage will get the better of him, that he’ll do something foolish to avenge this slight against me. “It was dark and chaotic. We didn’t even speak.”

“There’s no excuse!” Luthian paces, daubing some of the soap onto the sponge. “Arcus knows you belong to me. He’s punishing you to make me suffer. But this is beyond even the boundaries of the court!”

“It wasn’t Arcus,” I quickly correct him.

Luthian’s rage is momentarily paused. “He bragged this morning about having you.”

“He did. During the ritual,” I explain. “Not after. Not in the maze.”

This reignites Luthian’s fury. “There is still no excuse. I’ll find who did this to you, Cenere, I swear it. You will not be treated this way again.”

“No, you won’t,” I say gently. I wait for him to argue, but I think I’ve stunned him to silence. I seize the opportunity and go on. “I was doing exactly as everyone else was in that maze. Hunting, being pursued. It was rough and frightening, but it was exciting. You taught me that fear can be arousing. I used that lesson. I took the pain and the degradation, and I turned it into pleasure. Just like you taught me.”

“Whoever it was... they should have healed you,” Luthian protests. “I should have been there.”

“You were there. Just now. You came to my rescue, just like I knew you would. But please, don’t do something foolish. Don’t try to defend my honor at the expense of everything we’ve worked toward.” I search his face and see the hatred in his eyes soften and fade. “I knew you would save me. I knew you would heal me. So, I was never truly afraid.”

The soap and sponge clatter to the floor, and he’s upon me, leaning over the tub to kiss me breathless. He wraps his arms around my wet body, crushes me to his fine brocade coat, muddy streaks and all. His hands roam up my back, into my hair, and he holds me tight, his tongue taking my mouth as roughly as Kathras took me in the maze, and that’s when I recognize what drove both of them.

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