Page 55 of Court of Wolves

Bryon shot her a look and tried very, very hard to keep his attention on her face. Partly because he was greedy for the sight of her tits, partly because any more scars and he’d erupt. “Old,” he said dryly, holding up a crystal bottle with pearly liquid sloshing inside. “This shit’s probably as ancient as the castle—do you want to risk it?”

“It’s the difference between having clean and filthy hair, so yeah I want it.”

Bryon’s lips curled at the edges.

“Stop thinking about me using the word filthy,” she grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I can think ofplentyof ways we can use that word,” he said with a low chuckle, kneeling beside her again and pouring some of the pearly liquid into his hand. When he massaged it into her scalp, she released a deep, erotic moan that made his cock strain against his trousers. He could do with a bath of his own, especially after Marszton. “That noise makes me think of several more,” he added.

“You’ll just—sulk if we fuck again,” she said, her voice hitching as he worked the soap into her hair, her head lolling back. The black hole that had lived in his chest since Nimara’s death shrank a fraction at her obvious pleasure, at taking care of her and fulfilling his instincts. The same thing happened earlier, when his blade and brutality got her wings healed. It was natural to take care of her; resisting it had been unnatural and painful.

“I won’t.”

“You will.”

“I’m not ignoring the connection between us anymore, princess. That means you’re mine, and I’m done pushing you away.”

“So you’re saying no sulking ever?”

“Not after sex,” he huffed, stroking through the long strands of her hair now, making sure no lock was left untouched. Saints, it was erotic. Just running his hands through her hair had his cock jumping. “Like most men, that usually puts me in a good mood. But I’m not promising a full personality change.”

“God forbid you become an optimist,” she drawled.

He tugged a lock of hair. “You’re talking about optimism? You? Really, princess?”

“Shut up,” she muttered. “Dick.”

His heart warmed at the insult. “How did you get away from him? The bastard who hurt you.”

Maia sighed, resting her head on her knees. Bryon’s jaw clenched as he traced the path of suffering on her back with his eyes, and when that wasn’t enough, he brushed his fingertips over each one.

“I didn’t,” she said eventually. “He tortured me, then had me healed up, then tortured me again in a twisted cycle. I tried to escape at first, but then I didn’t have the strength or I was in too much pain. I only got out because Ismene was satisfied I learned my lesson. I would have died there.”

“But youdidget out,” he said quietly, rough with emotion he couldn’t suppress. He leaned over the bath and kissed her shoulder, letting his lips linger, remembering that first hot kiss they’d shared. His restraint had broken then, and it did now, though its heat was much softer. He didn’t want to ravish and ruin her. He wanted to cherish her, protect her, and mutilate her enemies—in that order. “You survived, and you gave her hell.”

“And then I got taken by the saint who pulls her strings,” Maia laughed bitterly. He kissed the scar on her shoulder, then skimmed his lips over her wings and delighted in the way she shuddered.

“Because you’re a good person, and your heart is gentle and full of light.” He followed the line of her arm with his fingers until he reached her hand, locking their fingers and bringing her hand to his mouth. “You came to Venhaus trying to save Vawn. You went to the island trying to fix the saints' circle.”

“And I didsucha good job at both. What was it you called me back in Eosantha? A naïve, foolhardy princess with a death wish?”

Bryon groaned. “I was wrong.”

“You weren’t,” she sighed.

He scraped the edge of a canine over her hand. “I barely knew you then, and what I did know… I liked too damn much. I realise this is going to be a shocking revelation for you, so brace yourself.”

“Consider me braced,” she played along, humour lightening her voice.

“I’m not entirely over losing my family.”

“No?” Maia gasped. “But you hide it so well.”

He snorted, that black hole shrinking another fraction. He kissed Maia’s knuckles and released her hand, gathering up water to rinse the soap from her hair. “Thanks.”

She laughed at his tone, but when she turned her face to look at him her expression was serious, her golden eyes sad. “No one’s expecting you to be over losing them, Bryon. Especially not me. But seriously, what iswrongwith you? Why are you being so… nice? Are you ill?”

“After sleeping in that cell for so long? Probably. My point is, I was a dick to you because you scare the shit out of me, princess. It was easier, safer, to keep you at arm’s length.”

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