Page 58 of Across an Endless Sea

“I’ll get someone to clean up the mess he made of my fucking bedroom,” he grunts, yanking on a metal chain that disappears into the ceiling.

I have no idea what the chain is supposed to do, but moments later, a timid knock on the door announces the arrival of a small army of fae. None of them look at me as they shuffle through the only door, which must lead to Caed’s bedroom, with mops and buckets.

Did they know? How many fae were plotting my death?

As soon as they’re done, Caed shuts them out, locking the door with a heavy bar that drops into place with a dull thump of finality.

Nineteen

Rhoswyn

I’m trapped in a room alone with him.

“This is exactly the thing I wanted to avoid,” Caed mutters, reading my thoughts.

He runs a hand through his long ashen hair, only for his fingers to tangle in the blood-matted ends. “I’m going to wash this blood off, either join me or wait until I’m done. Your choice, but you stay in sight at all times.”

With that, he stomps into the next room, leaving me alone, bundled in fur.

“I mean it, little queen. Get in here.” Caed’s voice rings out, echoing off the stone and making me jump.

Finding my voice takes me a few seconds. “I don’t think watching you bathe is necessary.”

His snort echoes off the stone. “You’re going to lose your nervenow? After facing down my father? Should I be flattered or insulted that you’re so intimidated by my bare ass?”

“I’m not intimidated,” I protest, cheeks heating.

A secret part of me wells with gratitude. Our argument is distracting me from having to think too hard about what just happened.

“You’ll see a whole lot more if you make me come and get you,” he says, and the mocking is plain in his tone.

Abandoning my pile of furs—because the warm room has banished the chill from earlier—I pad softly to the door, keeping my eyes trained on the floor.

I expect Caed to make some snarky comment, but there’s just a grunt of approval followed by the sound of water being splashed around.

“I’m not losing you and ending up banished for another five years,” he retorts.

Confusion makes me dare a glance up. “Banished?”

Damn it. Shouldn’t have looked.

I know what Caed’s torso looks like—as far as I’m aware, the male has never worn a shirt—but dripping with water? That… should not be so tempting. My skin heats. The warmth I thought comforting moments ago has somehow morphed and become stifling. The firelight from the freshly made hearth and the cool blue light of the mushrooms paint the hard lines of his body in contrasting shades.

Something about the whole tableau is just… sinful.

Water cascades from a hole in the rock above him into a deep natural pool carved into the corner of his room. Caed dunks his head under the stream, rinsing his ash-blond locks. The water in the pool is over waist high and swirling, so I assume it must drain somewhere, but I can’t focus on the mechanics of it all right now because the Fomorian is washing himself without shame in front of me.

Pain alerts me to the fact that I’ve bitten my lip so hard that it’s bleeding, and I suck on the wound as I try to remember that this male is my enemy. Has sworn to always be my enemy.

Only, my body doesn’t agree. A prickling awareness of him runs across my skin, and my eyes drop to the waterline without permission.

Goddess, Rose! Stop ogling the enemy!

My panicked thoughts and burning cheeks must give me away because Caed freezes, the washcloth he’s holding stopping mid-stroke as he levels a cocky smile my way and shifts so that his upper body is almost entirely out of the water.

“Like what you see?”

I’m not going to dignify that with an answer.

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