Page 57 of King of Ruin

He’s quiet as he holds his hand under the water, his back moving slowly up and down with his steady breath. The silence is long, and the tension filtering in is becoming thicker the more time passes, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he waits. When he’s satisfied with a temperature he secures the stopper and stands, turning toward the sink.

My lips itch to break the stillness, but my determination for him to do it is stronger. I can’t help but wonder though, with what little time left we have left together, one would assume he wouldn’t will it away so carelessly. I know my favorite part of our encounters is when we’re tangled in one another, breathless and connected. Releasing control while sharing the rare moments where we feel pleasure when all there’s been is pain.

All of it almost too precious to waste on his impossible desire to hear me beg.

Kane finds what he’s looking for–a bottle with a white label and purple script. He returns to the tub and pours some out under the stream of water, and the intense smell of lavender soothes my aching body almost immediately.

He returns the bottle before tugging my hand from my hip and ushering me into the tub. I remain quiet but move stiffly, my disdain obvious as I enter the water. Though the moment my calves submerge in the warmth, I nearly melt, sliding the rest of the way down with a fake disgruntled expression pitching my face.

Kane, with all his irritatingly all-knowing demeanor, smirks and shakes his head as he files behind me. The tub is wide, but I doubt his large frame will actually fit until he proves my internal thoughts wrong and it does.

We sit in the thick silence, only it morphs into something much more tender as he wraps an arm around my waist. His free hand dips into the water momentarily before he pulls it out and drips water down my chest.

I watch as the droplets make small rivers down my breasts before disappearing back into the soapy water, enjoying the moment I now understand is peace.

Such a rare thing to possess in our world.

For a second, I let myself really settle in his arms, my body molds to his too perfectly, but I allow the pleasure to overtake me. My eyes flutter closed and my breathing evens out, my lungs soaking in the calming fragrance that flows from the water.

“What’s your favorite color?” he asks, surprising me with what he decides to break the silence with.

I guffaw, and turn to face him, but he presses down on my stomach to hold me in place.

“Tell me.” His voice is warm in my ear, and the low timbre sprouts goosebumps along the flesh not submerged. “When you said I was stubborn, I wanted to laugh. Tell you to turn over your shoulder and look in the mirror. But then, something else crossed my mind. I only knowofOnyx Embros, Queen of the Embros family and a mere ghost before she cuts out her enemies’ hearts. I know of your untold strength and leadership. Your fearless heart and cunning mind.”

His free hand strokes my hair until I lean back into his shoulder. My body is both tight with trepidation and complacent in the safety of his hold. I’ve no idea where he’s headed but I can’t deny hearing how Kane perceives me is anything other than alluring.

“I know the armor you show the world, the one you need to, in order to thrive. But I want to know more. The things people deem as meaningless but are the small pieces that make up who we are.”

“Why?” Apprehension works heavy through my bloodstream. The instant defense embedded in my flesh stands at full attention. “Unless you plan to write a biography or use what you learn to somehow take over–”

“I willneverhurt you.” His voice is strained as it comes through clenched jaws. “And how you imagine I’ll use your favorite color as a way to convince your men into a coup is far too impressive. Even for me.”

I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling, though I tell myself it’s from his latter comment and not his constant reassurance to my well-being. Clearing my throat, I readjust between his thighs, ignoring his slight erection prodding my back.

While I still have my reservations and think it odd that he’d rather spend time discussing minuscule subjects than losing himself inside of me, I oblige.

For a cost. “And what will I receive for this very private information?”

He doesn’t hesitate. “What would you like?”

“To know what’s happening out there. To be privy of the plan you’ve somehow concocted to, as you say, ‘save me’.”

He brushes his knuckles over the shell of my ear, sending shivers through me. My body’s response to this man is becoming too visceral–too needy–to be healthy. Another moment passes before he pushes out a heavy breath that causes stray hairs to tickle my neck.

“As you wish. A piece of information in exchange for answers to my questions.”

I consider his proposition. If he only asks mundane information that won’t provide him any leverage, I don’t see the harm in entertaining him. There is also my curiosity to factor in as well. No one has ever asked me my favorite color and it would be dishonest to say I’m not enticed as to what else he wants to know.

“Black. And before you assume, it’s not because of my name, nor what appears to be my constant state of mourning.”

“Are you in mourning?”

I nod against his shoulder, peering up at him through a fan of lashes. His gaze is focused on where his fingers are splayed across my stomach and it’s only now that I realize my own hand is on top of his. It feels natural to lay with him like this. Like our world isn’t on the verge of exploding into flames around us and stealing one of us away.

And itwilltake one of us. We won’t both make it out alive.

Why does that fact bother me so much now? Why does it make my chest tight with the idea of killing Kane, when I’ve thought of little more since we first met? I continue to say I knew he’d be trouble, but the more time passes, the more I come to the conclusion that while yes, he would be my ruin, it wouldn’t be at the doing of another.

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