Page 173 of Kingdom of the Two Moons

“Pretty?”

I jolt. When I glance up, I find him suddenly watching me.

“Who… who did that to you?” I whisper with a kind of cold shock.

“You wouldn’t want to know that,” he says dryly, stating a fact, but his eyes shift back into a sonorous blue at my tone.

I draw closer, too aware of his nakedness. Of my… of whatever happened between us. Was it real? Mymagic, dancing and playing with his? I pray he can’t see the heat in my face, yet I know he can hear my galloping heartbeat. Sense all the other things that give my nervousness away.

“I see you’re sober again.”

I pull back my shoulders and hold his gaze. “Who did that to you?” I ask again.

“Did that to you,Your Highness,” he corrects me. I don’t know whether he’s joking.

“Who did that to you,master?”

His eyes darken slightly at that, but not from anger. “Does it matter?”

“It does to me.”

He raises his brows at my tone. “Let’s just say a lot of people have tried to kill me along the way, but not even a Nefarian sword could do it.”

My mouth goes dry at the ambiguity in his tone. At the insinuation. What must life be like when so many people want to murder you? “You… I thought you were immortal.”

“I am. But a lot of people have pondered the dreadful question of how to succeed in killing me regardless, and tested their theories, as you can see.”

“But—they failed,” I whisper still staring at the damaged runes. Such violence it makes me sick. Makes it hard to breathe.

“Well, isn’t that the most interesting question? How to succeed.” His tone falls to a dark timbre, as if challenging me.

I reflexively shake my head. “Why would it be?” It’s not at all a question.

He seems surprised by the conviction in my tone. “Do you want to come in?” he asks instead, to cover it, to make me blush even more violently. His eyes are ambiguous and sparkling; so is his tone.

Is that—an offer? Or another game?

I stand there like the girl I still am, unaware of the rules of this world. He was right. I’m no woman. A woman would shrug her clothes off and get in. Maybe just take what she wants. But… whatdoI want? Again, that dreadful question.Want.

My throat gets dry as I push the thought down. My gaze falls to my feet while I wrap my arms around myself, shaking my head as an answer.

“Then would you mind handing me the towel over there?” he asks, his voice deep and elegant. Another question, not an order to a slave.

I obey and grab an immensely huge towel I suppose can dry his wings off too, before walking over to the steps, keeping my head trained on the tiles.

I want to bend and place it down at the edge of the pool, but he says, “Bring it over here.” An order this time.

My head jerks up. He’s right opposite me now, all of him even more striking up close.

I want to open my mouth, to decline, but instead, I keep watching the faint amusement in his face, biting down my lip.

“So bold, so sassy—and now so shy.” His tone is lilting. Vicious.

I feel shame and heat, and so much more, slither down my spine.

I cast a glance over my shoulder as if to calculate how fast I can possibly make it out of here.

He just laughs, coolly, as if he’s read my thoughts again. “The door won’t let you out. And you don’t want to push your luck any more tonight, believe me.”

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