Page 130 of Kingdom of the Two Moons

He gets up and looks down on her. “I could make you do anything. Call that bargain in anytime from now on, and you could not resist.”

When she still doesn’t look at him, he kneels in front of her.

“What do you want then?” she asks, her eyes lost, her gaze far away.

“What wouldyouwant?” he asks back gently, brushing a strand of long hair out of her face.

“Just say it. It’s not like I’ve had my fair share of cruel encounters yet tonight.”

Her words are mocking, but her tone doesn’t go along. It’s devoid of emotion, detached. He can’t stand her resignation, as if she truly thought he would go through with his threat.

“I can be cruel. But not with you. Never with you,” he says, making her look at him.

He can tell she doesn’t believe him. And how could she, after what just happened between them? How could he possibly explain the way he meant what he said?

“Let’s end this in a gentle way, shall we? Tell me whether you ever think of me at night,” he orders, still stroking her head.

She glances up at him warily. “That’s all? Just like that?”

“That’s all.”

“I do,” she admits very quietly.

“Very well. Now sleep, my little love.”

41

Melody

I wake up with a vague sense of disorientation. Last night feels like a dream. The desert, the worm. Caryan whispering all those things into me. The only reason I know it was not a dream is that I never remember my dreams.

I’m in an opulent room, velvety curtains drawn. I blink against the shy daylight that comes in through a slit, dipping the room into an aqueous twilight. A bed, heavy brocades and silken sheets under my fingers. Tapestries and carpets cover a wall paneled with dark, shining wood. They show magical forests and creatures hiding in them. Badgers, their fur an eerie red, silvery foxes with shiny wings, deer with one horn between their antlers, and wolves with sable teeth. A bear with curled horns carrying a scarlet peacock in his mouth.

My gaze sweeps away over a landscape of sofas, a fireplace made of onyx—more magical creatures carved into it—fat pillar candles next to piles of heavy books on every scattered table.

So different to Caryan’s purist, modern rooms. These are dark and artistic and lyrical. I could spend hours just looking at the tapestries.

Just then does the rest of last night come to me. Thegamewith Riven—if I could call it that. I could feel the dark magic around us. Ancient and unforgiving. The way he begged me not to push. Theway his lips became stained with his blood. Only then did I understand.

The magic hurt him.Ihurt him.Imade him bleed.

I suddenly turn around, only to find the other side of the bed empty.

I let out a long breath, horrified, shuddering as I remember everything else. His sudden, dark fury when I finally relented. The way he slid over me then. The way his body moved over mine. The feeling of his muscles pressing me into the mattress, hard. The way he held my wrists.

He’d been furious. I’d glimpsed the rage in his amethyst eyes. Rage I understood too well. Coming from humiliation.

How it felt when you were utterly at someone’s mercy.

The fear of what someone might do. Not knowing how much farther he would go. The embarrassment of being unable to resist. The desperation.

I bury my face in my hands. I never wanted that. I just didn’t understand how serious, how binding, a bargain was. How dangerous. How fatal.

I thought he’d pay me back, but he was gentle in the end.

I get up, suddenly restless.

I find an opulent bathroom with a bronze bathtub already filled with fragrant water, a toothbrush next to the sink, a beautiful hairbrush, and right next to it a steaming cup of cappuccino. A truce.

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