Page 61 of Healer to the Ash King
“And? And—I didn’t like it. That wasn’t right. What happened to me not getting hurt during the challenges?”
“I wanted to see if you could handle the ollpheist.” His gaze is a blade edged with fire. “I knew you would heal yourself if you were injured. And I had a backup healer in the stands, as you suggested, just in case something went badly wrong.”
“Badly wrong—like if I almost died.” I scoff. “You want me to believe you regret the past, but you still don’t care about others. You beat your guards with fire whips and throw people off balconies.”
His face tenses. “How do you—”
“How do I know about that? Because I was sitting in the corner of the balcony during your passionate interlude with the fair Axley.” I’m trembling all over now, and my voice shakes with the intensity of my rage.
“You’re jealous.” There’s a triumphant, predatorial gleam in his scarlet eyes.
“No.” I shake my head. “I’m angry. I’m angry because I’m homesick and I have no idea when I’ll get to go back to my village. And I’m worried if I do go back to my village, these women won’t be properly cared for. I’m also worried about the poor of this city, those who can’t afford a healer. And speaking of affording things, you haven’t paid me like you promised. I would like my payment, and I would like different lodgings. I don’t care how small and simple the lodgings are—I can’t stay in the Rose Room. I want to maintain my dignity where you are concerned.”
“Which is why you came in here dressed inthat.” He cocks an eyebrow at my skimpy nightdress. “I thought you swore you’d never seduce me.” He rises from the bed, and a bolt of thrilling shock courses through me as I realize he’s entirely naked.
“I’m not seducing you,” I gasp. “I’m yelling at you.”
“By all means, continue. It’s working for me.” He halts by the bedpost, his lithe, powerful body angled against it.
The door of the bedroom opens, and a guard pokes his head in. “Your Majesty? Is everything all right? We heard shouting.”
“Get out,” the King snaps, “and stay out.” He shoots a fireball from his palm, and the guard beats a hasty retreat, slamming the door just in time.
“You see?Thatis what I’m talking about.” I point at the sizzling scorch mark on the door. “That was unnecessary. You frightened him, when the only thing he’s guilty of is checking on you, protecting you. You’re so rude.”
“Yes,” he says, nodding, smirking. “I’m very rude.”
“And selfish.” I step toward him for emphasis. “And cruel.”
“Selfish and cruel. Both true.”
Whatever self-destructive spirit has gripped me and throttled my better judgment, she seems determined to go for the King’s jugular. “And you’re a mass murderer.”
His mouth twitches in a snarl. “And youwantme. You want the murderer of thousands—the wicked, cruel, selfish monster. That’s why you’re really angry, Healer—admit it, or I’ll make you scream the words.” He stalks forward, his hands gloved in flame.
I jerk water from a large urn nearby and whip his fingers with it, snuffing out the flames. “I don’t want you. I hate you.”
He lights his fingers again, a gauntlet of flame gloving his right hand to the wrist. He reaches for me, but I intercept with a ball of water. His fiery hand passes through it, extinguishing with a hiss. I condense the steam, forming a glimmering liquid shield in front of myself.
“Admit it.” He runs his fingertips through my shield, creating ripples.
“No.” I swallow hard, pushing with the water, shoving him back.
“I could end you, you know.”
“Try it then.”
Flames shoot from his palms, hissing against my water-shield until it starts to boil and bubble. I reinforce it with more water from the urn, but I’m not fast enough and the shield explodes, spattering both of us with boiling drops.
I cry out in pain, and he hisses through his teeth, shoving me against the wall. His skin is dotted with red blisters. Somehow, the magic of my water melded with the magic of his fire, and it managed to wound him despite his impervious skin.
“I thought you took a vow of healing,” he growls. “You hurt me.”
“You hurtyourself,” I retort. Palms to his bare chest, I shove him with all my might. “Asshole.”
His brows rise. I’m fairly sure no one has dared to call him names to his face for a long time.
“You should remember your place, Healer.” His hands close on my upper arms, each finger glowing, searing my skin in hot bands. I shriek a little, panting with the pain. He crushes me to the wall again, grinding his hips against mine. He’s rock-hard, his erection pressing through my nightdress.
