Just like I did for her on the day we met.
She didn’t ask if he was okay. Still steadying him, she drew him out to the private niche where they’d talked before. Silently, she handed him food she’d somehow stockpiled in his absence, heels of bread, dry fish, and hard cheese. These rations weren’t normally provided to the prisoners, and if he hadn’t been starving he would’ve asked what she had to do to get them. But that seemed ungrateful.
So he ate and kept his curiosity and concern to himself, focusing on the fact that she cared enough to look after him. In a place like this, kindness didn’t come lightly.
As he ate, his energy levels stabilized and Slay let out a soft sigh. “Thanks. And sorry. Next time I’ll do what I’m told.”
“It’s harder for you,” she said softly. “I understand that.”
“Huh?”
“Because you were born believing that you matter, that you’re as good as anyone else. Here it’s the opposite. We’re conditioned to think that we’re trash, worthless and disposable.”
His heart ached until he couldn’t breathe. “You know that’s not true, right?”
“I’m trying to internalize it. Some days I do better than others.”
Fuck, I want to hold her.
But Rowena might not find it comforting. Maybe his touch would even catapult her into some horrific memory—because he’d snuggled her once, it didn’t mean he could always do that—so he didn’t reach out but he did luxuriate in the way she’d helped him outside when he was shaky. Casual contact seemed to be getting easier for her, at least with him.
“I’ll keep saying it until you hear my voice in your head, not anybody else’s.”
To his astonishment, she raised her gaze to meet his and whispered, “I already do. I missed you.”
Shit, why can’t I hug her? For once his brain came up with a solution before his mouth caused problems. Silently he opened his arms. “I’m hugging you so hard right now.”
Rowena opened hers too. She didn’t step close but her eyes gleamed so bright in the gloom that she must be fighting tears. “I’m hugging you back.”
“I’ll wait until you can do it for real,” Slay said.
“What if I never can? What if our first night together was a fluke? Lucan said the same thing in the beginning—he said he just wanted to love me and he didn’t care if I ever loved him back. And look where we are now.”
“Lucan is an asshole. You never made any promises. I’m not asking for any either, but I believe one day you’ll be able to hug me.”
Rowena smiled. “Really? That’s your ambition? Because my goal is to have you properly, not just cuddle you.”
Slay’s whole body went white hot.
8.
With all her heart, Rowena wished she could hug Slay now.
Fear kept her feet immobile. Not of him but of what might happen in her head if she dared. So far, she’d been unexpectedly fine when they touched, but that didn’t mean she’d surmounted the problem. Better wasn’t cured, and maybe she never would be. She’d settle for tiny steps forward, even if it meant also taking a few paces back.
Until her confidence increased she’d savor flirting with him. He didn’t see her as damaged or worse, tainted by her association with the tyrant. She smiled, hoping Slay could tell how happy she was to see him, how relieved she felt to have him back more or less unscathed. People died in the box, and others went mad. To her knowledge, nobody had gone back as often as Slay and emerged with their minds still intact. Maybe his stubbornness was an Animari thing—she had no idea—or it could be unique to Slay.
He seemed thunderstruck by her playful response, unable to respond for a few moments. Finally he said, “You saying you’d like our pretense to be real?”
“Not right this minute. But yes, if it’s possible. Eventually. I want to choose a lover, just like everyone else does. That would be…” Here, words failed her.
She hadn’t wanted that from Prince Alastor, whatever he’d thought about her case of hero worship. He was too close to the tyrant, biologically related. As for Dedrick and Graff, they felt more like siblings. And fighting with the other soldiers, marching with them, smelling their sweaty bodies and breathing in their farts while watching them peel the skin off their scaly feet? Close quarters didn’t always lead to attraction. There had been absolutely no one in the prince’s cohort who tempted her. She’d never expected she’d feel a spark for the first time after returning to the undercity.
Slay still hadn’t said anything, and she started feeling awkward. “Uhm. It’s not a requirement or anything. I would never pressure you—”
“I’m just marveling at my luck,” he said quietly. “Could be our circumstances but I’m feeling pretty special.”
When his hot golden gaze glided over her mouth, it felt like a kiss, and excitement quivered through her. The feeling was new enough that it gave her the shivers. She wasn’t used to having another person involved in her sexual urges. Instead of panicking, she breathed through her nerves and just…experienced everything—the arousal and the anxiety and afterward, he was still there. Not impatient, not annoyed, only puzzled and a little concerned.
“I hope you always feel the way,” she said. “To explain my issues, I would have to tell you things that I prefer not to think about, let alone discuss and—”
“Nah,” Slay cut in. “Don’t dig into old wounds for me. I mean, if you need to, I’ll listen, but I don’t believe that every wound needs lancing. Sometimes they heal over and the scar tissue is tough. You want that protection, right? So leave it be and do whatever’s right for you. I’m here regardless. Not going anywhere.” He flashed an endearing grin. “I mean, I literally can’t leave, but I think you get what I’m going for here. Did I ruin it?”
It felt like her face might crack open, she was smiling so wide. “Never.”
The bell tolled, signaling their curfew. Though they were close to their quarters, it would be bad for guards to catch Slay breaking the rules so soon after returning from the box. They likely already had him on a watchlist. Rowena tried not to fret about what Lucan had said as she headed to their pallets.
“You’re worried,” Slay guessed.
She glanced at him, startled. “How can you tell?”
“Your scent changes. Being Animari gives me a leg up in that regard.”
Oh.
“Does that mean you can tell when I…”
“When you’re entertaining wicked thoughts about me? Yes.”
The heat in her cheeks blazed until she had to press both palms to her face to soothe the sting. “I can’t decide if it’s better or worse that I’m now aware that you’ll know.”
“It makes certain things easier,” he admitted. “Because we usually don’t need to be concerned about moving on someone who isn’t into it. If there’s any reciprocal attraction, it’s generally tangible to both parties.”
She considered briefly. “That would be convenient.”
“You never have to wonder about me,” Slay said.