Page 22 of Hell Storm

His smile grew when I didn’t change my answer to suit him.

Knowing better than to push my limit, I decided I had enough for now. The last thing I needed was to get buzzed here in Levi’s room. I leaned forward to set the glass on the small table between us, but as soon as it left my hand, my wrist was taken.

Soft, cool fingers aroused goosebumps on my skin wherever they touched. Entranced, I barely noticed where his focus had settled.

“It’s healed nicely.”

My gaze fell to the thin, pink scar he spoke of, reminding me of being manhandled by the two sentinels in Lord Wilford’s garden.

Pulling back to free myself from his grasp, I nodded. “Hardly feel it anymore.”

Next, his penetrating glare passed to my thigh and I followed his eyes there. “Thatone looks like more than just a scrape.”

I quickly tugged the hem of my gown over my leg, covering the thin, hand-sized portion of melted skin that told its own chapter of my story.

“Got it as a kid,” I lied. “It’s from a cooking accident. I was trying to help one of the orphanage caretakers prepare a meal.”

He stared at that area long after I concealed it, as if he had x-ray vision that let him see straight through the material.

“If you don’t mind, I’d rather not talk about it.”

Levi’s expression turned curious. “I didn’t realize recalling the details of a cooking accident could be so triggering.”

There was no missing the judgment in his voice, the disbelief buried within the statement. It was as if he knew I was hiding something.

“Well, I suppose youwouldn’tknow that,” I deflected. “Which leads me to believe you have no idea what it’s like to smell the aroma of your own flesh cooking. Nor do you know what it’s like to be in so much pain that you beg for death. That is, of course, until the agony sends you into shock, and you pass out.”

At first, his stare nearly bore a hole through me. It was enough to make me wonder if he’d press for more information, but then he surprised me when he decided not to push, granting me the pass I sought.

“My apologies,” he conceded. “I meant no harm.”

Stretching my toes toward the fire to warm them, I said nothing more as I settled deeper into my seat.

“Are you adjusting well to life here in the palace?” he asked, changing the subject.

Shrugging, I thought about that question. “It’s not much of a life when you’re confined to one room.”

A short laugh escaped him. “No, I suppose it isn’t. But it might please you to know Elle and Julian are discussing plans for a shopping trip soon.”

I turned to face him. “Shopping?”

He nodded. “For clothes that are moreyourstyle than Elle’s. She thought it might be nice if you had a bit more say-so in what you wear.”

Silence followed when I didn’t respond, or evenmovefor that matter. I was frozen in thought, imagining that,to them,this gesture must have seemed kind. Only, I wasn’t interested in clothes and accessories. I wouldn’t allow myself to be distracted by their shiny lifestyle.

Deeply lost inside my own head, I didn’t even realize how intently Levi stared.

“Most women would have been beside themselves with this news,” he observed, “but … not you.”

I swallowed, unsure of what he meant by that.

“You’re quite the peculiar specimen, Corina.”

A small laugh left me. “I’ve been called far worse.”

The corner of his lips tugged up, contrasting the seriousness in his eyes. “When do you plan to tell us why you werereallyat the gala that night?”

My heart shuttered to a stop inside my chest, but, confined within this small space, avoidance didn’t seem like an option.

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