Page 31 of Wicked Depths

Instead, I step closer.

The fire casts a golden sheen over her, illuminating the silver strands of her hair, the deep, endless blue of her eyes. She is beautiful—undeniably, infuriatingly beautiful.

And she knows it.

I sit in the chair across from her, stretching out my legs, feigning nonchalance.

Vaela studies me, eyes flicking over my body, lingering on the tension in my shoulders, the stiffness in my posture.

“You’ve been shifting too much,” she murmurs. “Your body must be sore.”

I arch a brow. “I heal quickly.”

She tsks, swinging her legs over the chaise, sitting up. “That doesn’t mean you don’t feel it. You’re strong, but you’re not immune to your own muscles tearing.”

Her gaze drops, scanning the taut line of my shoulders. Then she lifts her hand, beckoning me forward with a teasing smile.

“Come here,” she says, voice like silk. “Let me ease the ache.”

I snort. “I think not.”

Her smirk deepens. “Are you afraid I’ll have my hands on you, Dragon Queen?”

My jaw clenches.

She is insufferable.

But the ache in my muscles is very real, and no matter how much I will my body to relax, the tightness remains.

Vaela shifts, patting the spot in front of her. “Just sit. I won’t bite.” I give her a sharp look, and she grins. “Unless you want me to.”

Goddess above, this woman will be the death of me.

With a sigh, I roll my shoulders and move toward the chaise, lowering myself onto the edge.

Vaela shifts behind me, close enough that I can feel the warmth of her body.

Her hands press against my shoulders, and I have to resist the urge to tense. Her touch is cool, firm, but not unpleasant.

Then she begins to knead.

A breath hitches in my throat before I can stop it.

Her fingers are skilled, tracing over the ridges of my muscles, pressing deep into the knots that have formed along my back.

For a moment, I almost resist.

Then she finds a particularly tight spot at the base of my neck and presses her thumbs into it, rolling slow, steady circles.

A low, pleased sound escapes me.

Her hands still.

“You purr?”

I freeze.

Her laughter bubbles out, soft and delighted, and I feel her breath against my ear as she leans closer.

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