Page 45 of Pain

As soon as I went to my bedroom, stripped, and stepped into the shower, it was like a vice squeezed relentlessly around my ribcage, threatening to crack the bones and crush my heart and lungs. It wasn’t a scary pressure, just an uncomfortable one. A constant one. A relentless reminder that my mate was close, but not close enough. Close with other men, just not me.

The water was too hot no matter how much I tried to adjust the temperature.So I made it quick. I washed all the blood from my face and neck, scrubbed the sweat from my skin, and rinsed my hair. The constant scent of sulfur from the water was disgusting, but eventually it became so ingrained in my pores and nose that I barely noticed it anymore.

Once dressed again in black slacks and a black button-down shirt, I joined Kenvin out in the courtyard. Maxar was there too, quietly sitting on a lounge chair, playing with purple flames along his fingers. He caught my eye and grunted. I wasn’t sure if that was his weird mage way of saying I should take the seat beside him, or if I wasn’t welcome.

Unlike the bear, who didn’t hide any of his feelings, the mage was a difficult gent to read and predict. Kenvin was dealing with the barbecue. So I took my chances and sat down in the other lounge chair opposite the mage, my posture a complete paradox to his loose and relaxed sprawl. Was that called “manspreading”? The gap between his knees in those hideous genie-style pants was enormous, and the way he leaned back against the chair and casually danced the flames across his fingers was a level of ease I’m not sure I’ve ever had.

Snuffing out the flames, he sat forward, but didn’t close his legs. He rested his elbows on his thighs and glanced at me with an intensity that caught me off guard. “Walk me through what happened when we left you two in the training room,” he demanded. I didn’t think he was necessarily upset, at least his tone didn’t come across that way, but I could tell he wasn’t in the immediate forgiveness mood either.

I shook my head, shoved my fingers into my damp hair and hung my head to stare at the concrete-tile ground beneath my loafers. “We were talking. We were …” I swallowed, “she gave me a hug, telling me how sorry she was for torturing me, and hurting me, and also for how things transpired with Howar.” I glanced up at him from the corner of my eye to gauge his reaction.

Maxar’s dark-red brows twitched, and he blinked his amber eyes, but he didn’t say anything.

Was a lack of a reaction from the volatile mage better or worse?

“She demanded I feed from her wrist. She said she’d behead me if I didn’t. That I wasn’t allowed to deny my queen.”

That made the mage snort and smirk. “Sounds like our queen.”

I cleared my throat. “So, I made one puncture hole in her wrist and only drank a little. Less than half a pint. It shouldn’t have made her faint. I fed more from her last night and she didn’t faint.”

“Yeah … but she didn’t spend all day yesterday torturing us and manipulating our minds. I know we had it bad, but it wasn’t a walk in the park for her to do what she did today. She was fatigued. Mentally and physically exhausted. So even taking half a pint probably depleted her too much.”

Nodding, I rested my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands. “I know that now.”

“I’m not going to verbally flog you. I’m sure you’re doing that enough yourself. And shewillbe fine. The bear, however, wants to make a piñata out of your hollowed out carcass.”

“I know.”

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry that your cousin turned out to be a traitor. I know what it’s like to feel shame about who your family is.”

I glanced up at the mage, his expression sincere, almost pained. “Are you going to go see your parents?”

He shrugged, but his shoulders were stiff. “I don’t know yet. They have no love for me. And I …” he frowned, “I have none for them. So I don’t understand where this gnawing sense of obligation comes from.”

“Howar’s mother is there too. In prison. I had to take her there myself. Only other time I had to come through the portal.”

“Your aunt, right? The Dowager Queen?”

I nodded. “And like you, I feel this odd sense of obligation to go see her. Particularly now that I know Howar betrayed me.”

“Like maybe she can give you some answers aboutwhyhe betrayed you?”

I nodded again. “Yeah … maybe. I don’t know. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, and in the very back of my mind, always suspected it was possible Howar might secretly be vying to rule the entire realm, considering who his parents are—”

The mentions of Howar’s parents and the fact that if they were traitors mustmean he was a traitor, therefore if Maxar’s parents were evil, ergo, he must be evil, hit me in the head like a Morningstar.

“My apologies,” I murmured. “I didn’t mean—”

Maxar waved his hand in dismissal. “It’s fine. I get it. You and the entire Mage Council have the same idea. They’ve been watching me for centuries. Just waiting for the poisoned apple to fall directly at the base of the toxic tree.”

“For the record,” I started, honestly feeling terrible for saying something like that to him, “I don’t suspect you of … evil. Of being lured by dark magic. My father was a terrible monster as well. So it’s in my blood as much as it is yours. We’re simplychoosingthe better path. Not allowing our DNA to dictate our behavior.”

“Thanks,” he said, but I could tell he didn’t believe me. “It’s all fucked up is what it is. We can’t escape the horrors of our family, no matter how hard we try. And boy, do I fucking try.”

I continued to nod. “Blood is thicker than I think any of us would like it to be. Omaera’s uncle wants her dead. My aunt and father, and your parents, are all homicidal maniacs …” I glanced at the bedroom door where Zandren was with Omaera. “Do you know if the bear has any skeletons of shameless family members in his closet?”

“Oh, I’m sure he has skeletons. Ones he’s mauled and disemboweled himself. He probably keeps them as trophies, mounted on the wall of his cave.”

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