Page 65 of The Cursed and the Broken
“I don’t lie,” he said matter-of-factly.
Glaring up at him, I replied haughtily, “Oh, that’s right. You merely omit information.”
He smiled down at me and my chest hitched at his full lips, the angle of his jaw. “What can I do to make it up to you?”
“I can think of a few things.” The words left my mouth before I could stop them.Oh my gods. Kill me now.
“Well then,” he purred. “I’ll be sure to satisfy your needs in full once you’re healed. Wouldn’t want to hurt you as you are.”
“Hurt me?” I squeaked.
He shot me a crooked grin, but he set me down on the floor before I could enquire further, opening the door to his chamber.
Stepping inside, I looked around the room tentatively. It was much the same as the guest suite, only bigger, with a mahogany desk piled with missives and a plush navy and gold brocade armchair situated in one corner. The sitting area was larger too, with black lounges on a cream rug encircling a fireplace. Above the mantel sat a portrait of his family. His father, proud and regal, a happiness softening the usual stern lines on his face. Beside Farkas, a beautiful woman with long, chestnut hair and dark brown eyes cradled a young boy in her lap.
His mother. Her skin was slightly darker than Dante’s, but she bore a nearly identical set of eyes and full lips that mirrored his own. Her brown curls were streaked with the same russet glint as Dante’s too.
My heartstrings pulled at the love in that frame—at Dante’s broad, boyish smile, complete with two dimples. They’d been so happy and that joy had turned to ash because of the cultists. My jaw hardened at the thought of more bloodshed, more lives lost and families broken should their darkness spread.
No.Not if I could help it. I turned to Dante, avoiding the shadows of his bedchamber in an adjacent room. What I wouldn’t do to get a peek in there. To see a side of him usually hidden behind the mask. Shaking my head from sentiments, I gazed at Dante.
“Where are we going to do this?”
He smiled. “That depends. Where would you like to bleed me out?”
“Would you take this seriously?” I snapped. “I’ve never done this with another person before. It could go badly.” I raised a hand as he opened his mouth, probably about to make fun of my virginity over bloodletting.
His mouth snapped into an amused line, but he lifted his own palms in defence. “Follow me.”
He padded towards his bedchamber and my stomach thrilled at the sight of the four-poster-bed shrouded in smoky swathes of silk and plush quilts in charcoals and silver. If I’d thought the guest suite bed was big, this was huge. My brain started thinking of what activities could take place in that bed and I jerked myself away from the sight.
Dante’s chuckle was low and deep, as if sensing where my thoughts had gone. He followed my movements with hawk eyes, watching as I strode towards what appeared to be a bathing chamber. Conjuring my fire, I snapped my fingers, lighting the candles lining one side of the room. A sly grin crept over my face. It seemed Dante was something of a romantic.
As light flickered in the chamber, I found a large, smooth hollow inset into the stonework. I gasped as I realised what it was. “Is this—”
He grinned. “Rather than using those primitive tubs, we built a more permanent solution. There are hot springs beneath the castle, and we have a mechanism to hoist up buckets of hot water. We still need maids to run the water back and forth, but it’s a hell of a lot better than wallowing in a child-sized bucket.”
I pointed to a circular hole at one end. “How do you keep the water from running down that hole? What do you do with the dirty water?”
He rested his hands on my shoulders, steering me closer. “I’ve never heard you so inquisitive. We use this little baby to seal the gap and hold the water. When we’re done, you pull it out and the water drains down a series of stone tunnels and out onto the fields surrounding the castle.”
Dumbfounded, I stared at it, tentatively touching the stopper. “What witchery is this?”
He chuckled. “No magic at all, it just seemed logical. But, admittedly, we made the first with the help of your kith. I can’t figure out how to get fresh water sourced to the bath itself, but I have a few ideas.” His brows pinched. “Our local seer has termed it ‘plumbing’. It’s going to be big.” He frowned. “She also said someone else would claim its invention years from now.”
I eyed it longingly. What I wouldn’t do for a bath.
“You can wash later,” he declared behind me, his breath tickling my neck. “More blood needs to be spilled yet.”
I glared at him as I swivelled, feeling a bite of pain travel up my shoulder. “For the person doing the bleeding, you seem awfully cheery about it.”
He shrugged before prying the doublet from his chest, slipping it over his head casually. The shirt came next as he untied each button painfully slow. The soft hairs of his chest peeked over the collar, the hint of sweeping black ink. I swallowed, transfixed with the wolves emblazoned on each silver button, then the skin beneath it.
“Why are you undressing?” My voice was husky and I cringed inwardly at the tone. The obvious desire in it.
He looked at me innocently. “I happen to like these clothes. No use ruining them.”
I raised a brow. Where his cousin hoarded jewels, it seemed Dante was a clothes-coveting drake. He was always dressed impeccably but, in his defence, fine attire like that was made for his body. His outfits were fitting enough to reveal the muscles in his sleek torso and sturdy legs but left much more to wonder about. I’m sure I wasn’t the only woman to think so.
