“Natural hot springs,” he grunted, and I pondered that. He moved closer and grabbed my hand. I squealed but he ignored me.
“Put it down close to the bottom, and you will feel warmer water. We use metal pipes to pump the water up straight through the natural spring in the ground. Other pipes take it away and dispense for use elsewhere in the mountain.”
“Pipes,” I said, testing the new word in my mouth. His face twisted in disbelief.
“You don’t know what pipes are?”
“Enslaved race, remember?” Then I splashed him in his face for good measure. He blinked, rapidly clearing the water out of his eyes. Then he got a calculating look on his face, and with a swipe of his hand sent half the contents of the bath pouring over my head with his massive wings. I coughed and sputtered, my feet slipping into the deeper end as my body twisted and tried to right itself. Water was everywhere, in my ears, my eyes, my mouth and nose. I choked, and my hands reached out for anything to latch onto. That was how I found myself grasping onto Benedict’s naked body, gulping for air in panic. His face and body flushed a dark shade of brown.
“I imagine enslaved humans don’t learn how to swim?”
My arms tightened around his neck, unwilling to leave the relative safety of his arms just yet. “You imagine correctly.”
His hands moved to my waist, and I was extremely aware of the heat radiating off of him, much more intense than the heat in the water. This close, I could see the wounds cut across the fine scales of his chest, jagged rips that tore across his skin. I wondered again why he didn’t just heal them, like he did when I stabbed him. I gently trailed the edges of one scale with my fingers, and he growled in warning.
“You’re so angry all the time.”
He pushed my hand away and set me down beside him on the bench. I clutched the dress to my body, still unwilling to be as free with displaying my body as he was. He stood and stretched, letting tiny rivulets of water cascade down his muscles. I looked away, not bold enough yet to stare at his naked form.
“Like what you see, siren?”
I crossed my arms again, refusing to look. “Your pet names are as stupid as you are.” He dried off with a nearby towel, ruffling his hair vigorously.
“Sticks and stones.”
He threw the towel at my face and I caught it, immediately dropping it to the ground with a grimace. He threw on his breeches and sauntered off. Hopefully to his ownchambers.
Rather than hang around and run into Benedict again, I immediately set off to find Kieran or Ronan. They promised to start working with me on my daggers, and I meant to hold them to it. As luck would have it, Kieran was already on his way. I bumped into him not far from my chambers. Maybe he would know why Benedict wasn’t healing?
“I was coming to fetch you for your lessons!”
Kieran’s smile was blinding, and exactly what I needed right now. As he drew closer, he took in my anxious face, and frowned.
“What is wrong?”
“Why won’t Benedict heal after the Skolex?”
Kieran nodded, as if the question made perfect sense. That was one of the reasons I liked him so much. “Magick takes more time to heal, especially black magick. Do not worry, Benedict is a draken king. If he needs to heal, he will pull energy from us. Or if he doesn’t, he’ll keep the wounds until his own energy stores can handle it. A knife directly to his heart won’t kill him unless he wishes to die.” He laughed, finding the idea completely absurd.
Oh.
“Are you plotting to kill him?” He continued, his eyes alight with amusement.
“I mean...no.” I finished lamely, feeling rather foolish. I glanced up at Kieran and let the tension bleed from my body. In a way, Kieran made me feel warm and safe, like there was someone in this damn mountain who cared about what happened to me. That feeling was addictive; a drug that I was starved for. I gripped the neckline of his shirt, and his face tilted down to meet mine. Decisively, I brushed my lips against his. Kieran made a surprised noise, but quickly recovered as he melted into me. He tasted musky and tangy, like he’d been drinking an ale earlier. His hand gripped harshly onto my face as his wings flared around us, cushioning my back as he pushed me up against the stone wall. His scales and feathers were beautiful, reminding me of the sunrise. I moaned as the rough scales of his hand brushed over my breast, and he was careful to avoid my skin with his claws. It was all I could do to wrap my legs around his waist as he picked me up, hanging on tightly as his lips traced a path along my collarbone. I whimpered when he lightly pinched my nipple.
“If you were my mate, I would kill myself before I made you upset.”
I believed him; more than that, it would be so easy to pick him and be done with it, wouldn’t it? Why did she have to choose multiple men? Kieran was kind, thoughtful, and genuinely liked me. Unlike Benedict. A different sort of need rose in me as I thought of him, and I decided to embrace it. Why shouldn’t I take when I wanted, especially when it was so freely given? I would take Kieran’s kindness and Benedict’s darkness.
Kieran paused as he noticed the shift in my demeanor.
“If you do not choose me, I would still beg for the honor to be by your side, whether that is on your court or just as a friend.”
I was truly touched by his gesture. It was so easy to like
