Page 26 of This Monster of Mine

She had a hard time believing that.

“That’s the tablinum.” Cato indicated the rightmost of two doors at the back of the atrium. “He wishes to speak to you alone.”

She could only imagine what conversation Kadra had in mind. Wiping clammy hands on her tunic, she discreetly reached for her armilla.Under the guise of taking a calming breath, she pricked her finger and pressed the dot of blood intozosta.Let’s see how often he lies.Steeling herself, she knocked.

“Come in,” called an all-too-familiar baritone.

With a deep breath, she pushed the handle down and stepped inside. Kadra’s study was less ostentatious than she’d expected. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves covered the walls, framing two reading couches. At the back, a winding staircase paused at a mezzanine before curving to the upper levels of the tower. On the right side of the study stood a stately desk littered with scrolls. And behind the desk sat the man himself.

Sarai met Kadra’s stare and froze. His hair was damp. Dark strands hung over his forehead, softening the harsh planes of his face. A loosely knotted robe gaped half-open down to his waist. She dragged her gaze up, trying and failing to ignore the expanse of tanned, hair-sprinkled muscle laid bare by the gap.

“Welcome.” The man she was doing her best not to stare at lazily tipped a wineglass in her direction.

Damn him. Approaching the desk, she bowed so low her head almost hit the wood.

“Tibi gratias agofor the kind invitation, Tetrarch Kadra.” She managed to look everywhere but his chest.

A spark of amusement in his depthless stare. “It wasn’t kind, and it certainly wasn’t an invitation.”

“My thanks stands, nonetheless.”

He rose, the robe gaping wider at the movement. She fixated on his face. He was striking but lacked Aelius’s roguish beauty, a stamp of ruthlessness having hardened features that could have been classically beautiful.

“Sarai of Arsamea.” His voice was velvet, but there was nothing seductive in his cruel eyes. “Stormfall aside, how are you finding Edessa?”

Shivering despite her birrus, she crossed her arms. “Warm.”

“And the Aequitas?” He rounded the desk and placed his glass by her hand. The sweet haze of wine filled her nostrils.

“Loud.”

“And the Tetrarchy?”

“I’ve hardly met everyone.”

A brow rose. “So you don’t have an opinion?”

“I didn’t say that—” She froze upon realizing that he was barely a foot away.Too close.Why hadn’t she noticed? Normally, her body would have panicked by now.

Inhaling sharply, she took a step back. Kadra shot her an assessing glance, topping up his glass with half the contents of a wine bottle, before pouring the rest into another glass and holding it out to her.

It can’t be poisoned if he’s drinking it.She cautiously accepted. “Tetrarch Kadra, I’m not sure what response you’re looking for.”

“An honest one. Like you gave me last night.”

Damn you for bringing that up.But his answer rang clear.Truth.“Are you asking me about the Tetrarchy? Or the trial?”

“Both.”

She swallowed. “I thought it was monstrous. The trial.”You.

His eyes flickered with humor, as if he’d heard her unspoken verdict. Every hair on her body rose as he drew closer. And then he did the strangest thing. Raising a hand by her neck, he paused, as though awaiting permission.

Sarai waited for her body to protest his nearness, but it seemed to be in shock. Why was he asking for permission? Confused, she inclined her head. If he hurt her, she’d break his wrist, consequences be damned.

Something flickered across Kadra’s face. Long fingers brushed her neck, unpinning her birrus where it fastened at her throat. The fabric slidoff her shoulders in a rustle that felt too loud. His eyes never left hers, amusement fading the longer he held her gaze. Her mouth went dry.

Then, he drew away.

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