Page 62 of The Umbra King

Before she could answer, his eyes stared at the arm still covering her heart, specifically the side of her forearm that hit the dock. Soon, his eyes scanned her, stopping briefly on her bruised shin. Without thinking, she hid both arms behind her back and the jerky movement displaced her hair.

It was a stupid move that left her neck exposed, and when his eyes found the deep purple bruises surrounding her throat, therealm around them seemed to stand still, as if reacting to his energy.

His look of curiosity turned frigid as he set his pastry down and closed the space between them. Each step was careful and controlled, and her legs threatened to give out. She didn’t know why, but the look on his face terrified her.

“What is that?” he asked so low she almost didn’t hear him.

She feigned nonchalance. “What is what?”

His eyes were virulent. “What is on your neck, Rory?”

She took a step back and hit a wall. “It’s a fashion statement,” she joked.

When he stood a foot away, he stared at the bruises coloring her skin, and his entire body went unnaturally still. She stood like a statue, afraid to make any sudden movements lest it make the predator in him attack.

His anger was barely leashed when he said, “Who did this to you?” He visually inspected the bruises on her limbs, touching each one with his golden gaze.

His eyes met hers, and the danger she saw there made her gasp. “It doesn’t matter,” she whispered, too scared to speak louder.

He stepped even closer. “It is the only thing that matters. Tell me who did this to you, or I will raze the entire fucking town to the ground.”His face was inches from hers as his rage enveloped her, and she closed her eyes to separate herself from him.

“Look at me,” he demanded. “I am not one to make empty threats.”

Her lashes fluttered as her eyes opened. “His name was Ronny, and he’s dead.”

His chest heaved once before he stepped back. “The next time someone lays a finger on you, their death belongs to me.”

The panic melted from her body, and her mind cleared. “Why?”

“Because no one hurts you but me,” he murmured as he stepped into her space once more. A shadow slithered up her side and caressed hercheek. “Your pain belongs to me.” The shadow left her face and grazed over her breasts on its way to the apex of her thighs. Her body trembled with anticipation, but the shadow stopped. “As does your pleasure.”

He watched her as he walked backward before turning to leave, and Rory stood shaking against the wall. “What was that?” she whispered into the empty room.

He was mercurial, and it was confusing as hell. She’d been so taken aback, she forgot to confront him about the file on her sister. She knew it was proof he was guilty, but there was still a small seed of doubt that hoped it was something else.Why was she trying to make excuses for him?

She didn’t know herself anymore.

Caius steppedinto the garden and released his all-consuming rage. Shadows skittered away from him as he walked, and he knew if he didn’t get away from her, he would lock her in his quarters to ensure no one came near her again.

He froze mid-stride as pieces of a puzzle slid into place.

His nightmares.He’d had one about drowning the night he found Rory soaked to the bone in the hallway. That was two days ago—the same day the inmate was executed by the lake. “It can’t be,” he whispered.

If what he suspected was true, it would explain everything, including his obsessive protectiveness.How did he not realize it before?

He could be wrong. There was only one way to be sure, but he already knew the answer.

Rory was his eternal mate.

He stalked back to the kitchens and threw open the door. Rory rose from the ground with a screech as she breathed hard.

“Iknewyou did it on purpose,” she accused. “It’s not funny.”

He ignored her and strode across the room. “What do you see when you look at me?”

“An asshole,” she replied. Her answer was immediate, and he frowned.

“That was rude,” he muttered. “What do I look like to you?”

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