Page 6 of Lord of Dance and Desire

“Your bed,” I said, voice hard. Slapping him would send the wrong message, and I didn’t have the energy for the inevitable retaliation.

Andrei obeyed, taking me to his room and tucking me in. He laid on his back above the covers, folding his arms in an x across his chest. He ignored Mathen, who flung himself into the corner and watched us like some kind of chaperone.

“I’ll be here all night, Anah,” Mathen said. “My Lord won’t touch you without your explicit command.”

All right.

“Unless he desires to be beaten like a mangy, monster-bred mutt again.”

. . .they’d left a lot of subtleties out of the culture module of the entrance orientation. Though I recalled murder wasn’t technically a crime unless you got caught. That might come in handy.

“Philea wanted her turn,” Mathen added.

A lot.

Chapter

Two

“Anah, you need to eat.”

The plate came into focus, eggs and thick-sliced meat now cold.

“Do you want something different?” Constin asked.

I didn’t want food at all. It did nothing to slake my thirst, lessen my hunger. On the third day of the punishment, Andrei caught me scratching my arms. Long, bloody rivulets from shoulder to wrist. Knives would have been next.

He’d wrapped my fingers into. . .mittens after filing my nails down.

“I can’t take this,” Andrei said, his hand gripping the arm of my chair. “It wasn’t meant to break her. Is this a feminine issue?”

I sat at the breakfast table, listening to them talk about me right in front of my face, but not processing. Or caring.

“Why are you begging me to smack you?” Philea snapped, gold coin eyes flashing.

“Then tell me why my consort behaves as if I tore her soul out,” the High Lord snarled. He crouched at my side, rubbing a hand up and down my bare calf as he and the luudthen argued.

“She’s lamia-born,” Mathen said, hovering. “We may have underestimated?—”

“The dance was how she fed.” Andrei’s hand paused as he stared at me. “Of course. I’m an idiot.”

Constin glanced at me. “If she never fed in the traditional method she must have been starved even before now. It would explain why she channeled everything into dance. To survive.”

“There’s only three days left,” Philea said. “She’ll live. Listen, boo. The males need you to eat. Watching them tear their hair out isn’t fun anymore.”

Constin snapped his head towards Philea, narrowing his eyes. “I didn’t see you eat this morning either.”

She curled her lip “Don’t you start that shit withme.”

“You’re not setting a very good example of intelligent feminine behavior.”

Philea unsheathed one of the knives at her side. “I can rectify that right now. I have a taste for intestine.”

Mathen dropped a basket of muffins on the table in front of Philea, and immediately leaped backwards.

“Set a good example, Leli,” he said—from the other side of the kitchen. “Anali, the blueberry muffins are half almond flour.”

I slid down in my chair, staring at the table. “I’m not wasting away.”

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